Chapter 81
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Zhao Ger was almost laughing.
"I'm not talking nonsense!" Fang Zichen sat to the side, huffing and puffing. "You are a scoundrel of a ger, specializing in deceiving pure young boys like me. I know you only like my beautiful body and interesting soul. Now that you've gotten me, you don't know how to cherish me anymore."
Zhao Ger burst out laughing.
Fang Zichen poked him, very displeased. "How do you still have the face to laugh? We are currently discussing a very profound topic. Facing a young boy who has just been deceived in body and mind, you should be serious!"
Zhao Ger held back his laughter and pinched his waist. "Who deceived you?"
Fang Zichen looked at him. He hadn't thought much of Zhao Ger before—having seen many people in the modern era, at most he found him clear-eyed and fine-featured, quite cute. But now that he'd fallen for him, every part of him seemed to grow right from the bottom of his heart—round face, big eyes, small pink lips—really, unbearably cute.
He said it deliberately to annoy him: "I don't know who, I only know his name is Zhao Ger, and his face is round like a plate."
Zhao Ger hit him. "...Your face is the one like a plate."
"Did I say it was you?" Fang Zichen dodged left and right, not letting him hit. "Don't assign yourself to the role!"
Zhao Ger could not land a hit, so he hurled a pillow instead. They wrestled and tussled for some time, only stopping when Fang Zichen finally lay back. Zhao Ger then settled atop Fang Zichen's chest, complaining, "My waist truly aches."
Hearing his softened tone, Fang Zichen was immediately disarmed. He dutifully began to massage Zhao Ger's waist, applying pressure that was neither too gentle nor too firm. Having just bathed in cold water, his palms were still slightly cool. The sensation reminded Zhao Ger of how those same hands had gripped his waist in the kitchen, making his whole body tremble. That overwhelming, terrifying feeling of his blood surging hotly rushed back to him. Annoyed, he struck Fang Zichen again.
"Why are you hitting me again?" Fang Zichen asked.
Zhao Ger raised his head and glared at him, though the look held little force. "I told you to stop earlier, but you kept going."
"This isn't my fault!" Fang Zichen rubbed his earlobe, saying cheekily, "It was my first time, no experience! Besides, you said stop, but you were biting down so tight. I stopped and you didn't seem too happy, kept rubbing my waist with your legs."
Zhao Ger buried his head into his chest like an ostrich, his voice muffled and shy. "You, shut up."
After retorting, Fang Zichen felt refreshed in body and mind. He never knew this matter could be so comfortable. He had truly wasted his first eighteen years. But then he thought, eighteen years ago he was underage. Minors, whose psychology and physiology hadn't reached maturity, really shouldn't do this sort of thing.
Feeling good, he couldn't sleep. Rubbing Zhao Ger's soft waist, he said, "Zhao Ger, let's chat!"
Zhao Ger: "Chat about what?"
Fang Zichen: "Anything!"
"But I don't know what to talk about," Zhao Ger was already sleepy, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "Nothing to say."
"Nothing to say??" Fang Zichen said, shocked. "Back when we first got together, all lovey-dovey, talking all night long, was it your mother helping you chat then?"
Zhao Ger: "······"
How does his little husband love to talk such nonsense so much!
When had they ever talked all night long?
Fang Zichen suddenly took on a nagging tone, as if he had aged decades in an instant: "Your name is Zhao Xu, my name is Fang Zichen. I truly feel we are fated to be together."
[旭 (Xù) means the rising sun or dawn, 晨 (Chén) means morning or daybreak]
He found out Zhao Ger's name last month when they went to the government office to register their household registration, Zhao Ger himself said it.
"Xu refers to the sun rising. Chen also means the sun rising. I feel the two of us are really too destined."
Zhao Ger remained silent.
Fang Zichen added: "No wonder you like me so much."
Zhao Ger couldn't stand his self-satisfied look. Although he was right, having just been bullied, he had to be stubborn this once. He said, "Where do I like you? Don't talk nonsense."
"You're saying one thing but meaning another again," Fang Zichen said, turning onto his side and propping his head up with one hand. Zhao Ger opened his big eyes to see Fang Zichen's collar slightly parted, revealing fair skin, a slender neck, and a flawless jawline. He gazed at Zhao Ger with a smile, his expression brimming with self-satisfaction.
Fang Zichen declared with certainty, "Stop making excuses. I love to eat, and you love to eat too. How could such a coincidence exist in this world? It simply means you adore me."
Zhao Ger: "······"
Zhao Ger was convinced.
They fooled around all night. The next day, Zhao Ger made breakfast, somewhat worried Fang Zichen wouldn't be able to get up. He prepared to go back to the room to call him, but Fang Zichen was already awake. With pickled green beans fried with minced meat paired with congee, he himself finished two bowls and didn't even glance at the steamed buns.
On the way to work, he felt refreshed and clear-headed, as if he were walking on air. He was in such high spirits that everyone he passed seemed pleasant to look upon. When he arrived at Zuixiao Restaurant, Shopkeeper Yang was already present.
He happened to be wearing new clothes today, dark brown. Fang Zichen praised him: "Uncle Yang, wearing this set, you look good, several years younger instantly."
Shopkeeper Yang loved hearing this. He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He was just about to modestly decline the compliment when Fang Zichen added: "You look about forty-five or forty-six."
Shopkeeper Yang: "······"
A fire ignited in Shopkeeper Yang's chest. Almost through gritted teeth, he said, "I just turned forty-four this year."
To have one's flattery miss the mark and hit the horse's hoof—if it were someone else, they might have been embarrassed.
But Fang Zichen simply didn't know how to write the word 'embarrassment'.
When a person became utterly impervious to shame, it was often mistaken for remarkable mental fortitude. Without a trace of embarrassment or hesitation, he stated righteously, "I know! I was just joking with you earlier."
Guaizai was wearing new shoes today and was very happy.
Fang Zichen had good taste. He bought light purple ones for Zhao Ger and yellow ones for Guaizai, with two little yellow chicks pecking at rice embroidered on them.
The embroideress had executed her work skillfully—the chicks were rendered with such lifelike vividness they seemed almost real, their plump and rounded forms exuding an endearingly simple charm.
Fang Zichen remembered Guaizai squatting by the chicken coop learning to cheep like a chick and thought he would probably like them. Even though they were expensive, he bought them.
They were just a bit big.
Once Guaizai put them on, he started walking carefully, looking down every two steps to see if his shoes had gotten dirty. Zhao Ger found it funny and put him on the goat's back.
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