Chapter 14
The thatch in the yard had dried, and the village chief came over, saying he wanted to help patch up the other half of the roof tomorrow.
Fang Zichen thought about it and declined. It was summer, and the heat would make the house stuffy if the roof was fully covered. If it rained, he’d just move to the other room to sleep—after all, the bed was just a few wooden planks put together, easy to move. Hearing this, the village chief let him have his way.
For the next few days, Fang Zichen went to town every day to carry heavy sacks. The foreman said the work might last another half month. Most people could only carry one sack per trip, but Fang Zichen could manage two at once, and he moved fast. He earned at least a hundred copper coins a day. Though the work was hard, he never tired of it.
While he was away working, Zhao Ger stayed home with Guaizai. The village chief’s old house had a large foundation, with an empty yard in front. After telling Fang Zichen, Zhao Ger borrowed a hoe from Aunt Liu the next day and started digging with great effort.
He wanted to grow some vegetables. Relying on wild greens every day wasn’t sustainable. The villagers were poor, and girls and gers were always scrambling up the mountains, trying to find something to supplement their family’s meals—even foraging had competition.
Fang Zichen didn’t like wild greens, but when Zhou Ger sent over some homegrown vegetables, he’d eat a little when Zhao Ger cooked them. Homegrown vegetables really did taste better.
After planting, Zhao Ger didn’t stop. He took Guaizai to gather firewood, busy from morning till night. It wasn’t much different from his days at the Ma family—always working, always laboring. The only difference was that now, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t working for the Ma family anymore. He had his own home now, and he was working for himself, for Guaizai, for Fang Zichen. It wasn’t in vain.
One evening, Fang Zichen came back late and saw Zhao Ger waiting at the village entrance again.
He felt a little helpless, but also warm inside.
Zhao Ger was a person of few words, not one for eloquent expressions. And like most people of this era, he was reserved—never saying things like “I love you” outright. But in his actions, his affection was unmistakable.
Whenever Fang Zichen was even slightly late, Zhao Ger would wait at the village entrance, watching for him. At first, Fang Zichen thought Zhao Ger was afraid he’d leave, that he couldn’t relax at home. But after it happened a few times, he understood what Zhao Ger really meant.
It wasn’t about guarding against his departure, it was about eagerly waiting to see him again.
As darkness fell, Zhao Ger spotted him from afar and jogged over, asking softly, “Why are you back so late today?”
Fang Zichen slung an arm over his shoulders like a brother would. Zhao Ger stiffened for a moment at the touch but quickly relaxed.
“Let’s talk at home,” Fang Zichen said, then suddenly frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Zhao Ger asked.
“Don’t wait for me at the village entrance anymore.”
His tone was unintentionally sharp, almost scolding. Zhao Ger’s heart ached, and he bit his lip. Then a warm breath brushed his ear as Fang Zichen lowered his voice and said, “Look over there.” He pointed to a spot in the distance.
Two figures stood on a path to the left. Fang Zichen had noticed them heading this way earlier, but they turned back as soon as they saw him.
It didn’t take much to guess their intentions.
Fang Zichen could be careless at times. Having lived in a modern world with only two genders for over a decade, he sometimes forgot about the existence of ger. But the locals didn’t see it that way.
To them, ger were no different from women.
Zhao Ger was alone, it was dark, and the nearest houses were far away. If someone wanted to do something to him, no one would even notice.
When Zhao Ger recognized the two figures, his face paled.
Even from their silhouettes and the way they walked, it wasn’t hard to tell who they were—He Er’gou and Liu Laizi, the two biggest troublemakers in Xiaohe Village.
These two were practically the village’s scourges. They stole chickens and dogs, harassed girls and gers, and had foul mouths. Both were still single in their twenties, and they had a habit of stealing women’s undergarments.
Zhao Ger had been cornered by them a few times before—groped, subjected to crude words. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn.
“Damn it, what bad luck,” Liu Laizi muttered, shooting a venomous glare at Fang Zichen. “We’ve been waiting for days, and he just had to come back now.”
“Yeah,” He Er’gou grumbled, flicking a handkerchief in his hand. “What a waste of my eight-copper knockout drug.”
“Why don’t we just break into his house tonight?” Liu Laizi suggested. “That place is pretty isolated anyway. We knock the guy out, and Zhao Ger’s ours to play with!” The more he thought about it, the more excited he got.
He Er’gou hesitated. “W-Wouldn’t that be too much? If he wakes up afterward, he won’t let us off.”
“That guy’s an outsider. He’s got no relatives or friends here. What’s there to be afraid of?”
“He saved Uncle He Liu. If he reports us to the village chief, we’ll be in deep trouble!”
Liu Laizi fell silent for a moment, then said, “Fine. But I’m telling you, that guy’s not someone to mess with. You weren’t around last time, but he beat up all three Ma brothers. Broke Ma Erzhu’s arm.”
“That tough?”
“Yeah. We’d better think of another way.”
Fang Zichen was half a head taller than Zhao Ger. With his arm around Zhao Ger’s shoulders, they walked close together, their silhouettes intimate under the dim moonlight. Liu Laizi watched for a while before looking away, his mind conjuring up images of Zhao Ger’s shy, angry face. His whole body itched with desire.
“Damn it, I’ve got to have that Zhao Ger at least once.”
“Heh, same here,” He Er’gou licked his lips. “I’ve had my eye on him for a while. Last time I managed to corner him, I only got a few words in before he grabbed a firewood axe and chased me. Who knew such a quiet, well-behaved guy could be so fierce? I wonder if he’s like that in bed too.”
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