Chapter 7: Seeking Affection
Zhou Ger sent a basket of vegetables. Fang Zichen gnawed on the two cucumbers that came with it but didn’t touch a single bite of the porridge Zhao Ger had cooked.
Guaizai held his bowl and ate with great relish. Fang Zichen watched and sighed again.
It was just too deceptive.
If he hadn’t already eaten a bowl at noon, he would have suspected Guaizai was eating some kind of abalone porridge with chicken broth.
The house lacked everything. In the evening, the three of them simply washed their feet and, having nothing else to do, went to bed.
The bed the village chief and others had temporarily set up wasn’t very big—after all, they had originally planned for only Fang Zichen. Who knew he would be so capable, acquiring a fulang and a child to warm the bed the very next day?
Fang Zichen had shared a bed with his eldest and second brothers when he was young, so he wasn’t opposed to sleeping beside someone. Even if he were, there was only one bed in the house, and he couldn’t be so heartless as to make the father and son sleep under the eaves.
With three people, it was a bit crowded. Zhao Ger lay on the innermost side, pressing himself as close to the wall as possible. When Fang Zichen got into bed and lay down, Zhao Ger’s heart pounded wildly. For some reason, he felt inexplicably nervous, not even daring to breathe too loudly. Even though Guaizai was between them, he could still seem to feel Fang Zichen’s body heat through the coarse fabric. The scent drifting over was dry, warm, and intoxicating, making him flustered for no reason.
He heard Fang Zichen talking to Guaizai, the voice close at hand.
“Are you well-behaved when you sleep at night? You’re not going to shove your feet in my face, are you? Did you wash your feet properly tonight?” Fang Zichen fired off three questions in a row.
“Washed them clean,” Guaizai replied obediently, lying flat on his back with his hands resting neatly on his little belly, blinking his eyes as if not yet ready to sleep.
Fang Zichen lay close to the edge of the bed. Having napped earlier in the day, his mind was restless now, his stomach empty, making it even harder to fall asleep. He asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“...Mm.” Guaizai nodded.
“So young and already learning to lose sleep like an adult? How impressive,” Fang Zichen chuckled, then turned onto his side to face Guaizai. “How about I tell you a story?”
Guaizai had never heard a story before and immediately grew more excited. “...Okay.”
“Once upon a time, there was a child who couldn’t sleep at night. He closed his eyes and wondered, ‘Why can’t I sleep?’ He thought and thought, and then...”
“...And then what?” Guaizai pressed.
Zhao Ger also pricked up his ears.
Fang Zichen, being utterly shameless, made up the story on the spot without a shred of effort. “...And then he fell asleep.”
Zhao Ger: “......”
Guaizai: “......”
Guaizai’s little mouth pouted, but being so young and having spent the afternoon busy picking wild vegetables, he soon grew drowsy as Zhao Ger patted his chest gently, just as he always did to lull him to sleep. Mumbling a few words Fang Zichen couldn’t quite understand, Guaizai drifted off.
Zhao Ger withdrew his hand and pressed it tightly to his side, staying silent. Fang Zichen lifted his head slightly and, like a thief, whispered, “Zhao Ger, can’t you sleep either? Want me to tell you a story too?”
Zhao Ger: “......”
“...Okay.”
“Once upon a time, there was a ger who couldn’t sleep at night. He closed his eyes and wondered, ‘Why can’t I sleep?’ He thought and thought, and then he fell asleep.”
Zhao Ger: “......”
After a long silence, Fang Zichen listened to his slightly uneven breathing and was about to speak when Zhao Ger’s soft voice came from beside him.
“Guaizai’s asleep... Do you... do you want to?”
Moonlight streamed in through the broken window and the half-collapsed roof, leaving the room not entirely dark. Zhao Ger gripped the rough straw mat beneath him tightly, his face betraying no particular expression, just like when he’d run into a friendly villager and asked, “Have you eaten?” There was nothing to be embarrassed or shy about.
At first, Fang Zichen didn’t understand, staring at him blankly. Zhao Ger kept his eyes down, not daring to meet his gaze. The fair skin at the collar of his clothes gradually flushed a peachy pink under Fang Zichen’s stare.
It was as if Fang Zichen’s meridians had suddenly cleared, and he instantly understood. His pupils constricted sharply, and he sat up with a jolt, the not-so-sturdy wooden bed creaking in protest. “Y-you... How could you say something like that to me?” His face was full of disbelief. “I’m only eighteen! Can’t you act like a decent person?”
His reaction was extreme. Zhao Ger’s expression changed, and he let out a sharp breath. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something else, but Guaizai, disturbed by the noise, mumbled in his sleep and rolled over toward Fang Zichen. Zhao Ger patted his shoulder gently, and soon he was sound asleep again.
The interruption drained most of Zhao Ger’s courage. He fell silent, and just as Fang Zichen thought he had realized his mistake and was too ashamed to say anything more, Zhao Ger spoke again, his voice soft but unmistakably uneasy:
“You... don’t want to?”
Fang Zichen: “......”
He stared at Zhao Ger in disbelief, then suddenly remembered—this was Xiaohe Village, not the modern world he'd come from.
Here, men his age, eighteen, were already settled with wives and children. In Zhao Ger's eyes, doing that at eighteen was completely normal.
Only he, having lived his first eighteen years following a different set of rules, couldn’t shift his mindset so easily.
He wasn’t incapable of understanding Zhao Ger. New to this arrangement, two strangers forced together—as the more vulnerable one, Zhao Ger was insecure. He was desperate to prove his worth. During the day, he obeyed, worked hard, followed Fang Zichen’s lead. At night, he wanted to be something needed, no matter what. As long as Fang Zichen found him indispensable, a compliant thing, then he could stay.
Asking for intimacy again wasn’t without shame for Zhao Ger.
He bit his lip, closed his eyes, and buried his face against Guaizai’s back. Fang Zichen could still see the tips of his ears, flushed red, peeking out from behind the child’s small frame.
Fang Zichen rubbed Guaizai’s head and spoke quietly, no longer reproachful:
“I’m eighteen. Where I’m from, this age is considered too young for that kind of thing. And—” He patted the bed beneath them. “Given our current situation, do you really think I’m in the mood? Even if I wanted to, could this bed handle it?”
His gaze fell on Zhao Ger’s thin, trembling shoulders.
“Not counting yesterday evening, we’ve only known each other for a day. In my mind, that kind of thing should only be done with someone you love. I respect you. I see you as my equal. If I touched you tonight, what would that make me? Doing that with someone who’s practically a stranger, it’s not impossible. If I did it, I’d lose nothing. But for you? That wouldn’t be respect. You’re not an outlet for my desires. Do you understand?”
“I helped you, but you don’t have to degrade yourself to repay me.”
“Making love, you need love to make it.”
Guaizai slept soundly, completely unaware of the heavy conversation between the adults.
Zhao Ger was silent for a long moment before a muffled, slightly choked voice came from behind Guaizai:
“...Mm. I understand.”
Fang Zichen exhaled in relief and lay back down, pressing close to Guaizai. The child curled up small, fists clenched, cheeks pink with sleep. Fang Zichen found it amusing and poked his little nose. Guaizai’s lips twitched, but he didn’t wake up. The summer heat made children’s bodies warm, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Fang Zichen wiped it away with a rough swipe of his hand - not gentle, almost careless, making Guaizai’s head bob slightly.
Zhao Ger’s forehead bumped against the back of Guaizai’s head from the movement. Even with the disturbance, the child didn’t stir. He must have been deeply asleep.
Zhao Ger propped himself up. His eyes were still red-rimmed, lashes damp, expression slightly awkward as he looked at Fang Zichen.
“...Don’t tease him.”
Fang Zichen grinned. “I’m not teasing him, I’m wiping his sweat.”
He was easygoing, not dwelling on what had just happened. Seeing Zhao Ger still seemed uncomfortable, he poked Guaizai’s cheek and joked:
“Poor little piglet, stuck between us in this summer heat. Will he be cooked by morning?”
Zhao Ger, seeing Fang Zichen smiling as if he’d already forgotten the earlier conversation, felt his flush fade slightly. The awkwardness lessened, replaced instead by a flicker of irritation. He defended Guaizai:
“...He’s not a piglet.”
Fang Zichen blinked, then obediently tucked his hands behind his head. “I wasn’t calling you the mother pig, you know. Don’t take it personally.”
Zhao Ger: “......”
“...Stop talking.” Zhao Ger glared at him, eyes round.
Fang Zichen’s mouth was as shameless as ever. He studied Zhao Ger’s face and grinned.
“Let me sing you a song. It suits you right now.” His expression was downright wicked, his smile oozing mischief. Zhao Ger knew at once it wouldn’t be anything decent. He opened his mouth to refuse, but Fang Zichen had already started singing lazily:
“Eyes wide like copper bells,
Shooting lightning-sharp cunning~”
[Opening theme song from the classic Chinese animated series Black Cat Detective (黑猫警长)]
Zhao Ger slapped a hand over his mouth.
Fang Zichen: “......”
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