Fang Zichen's tone was full of emotion, as if suddenly realizing the weight of his responsibility. "Single-parent households really aren’t good for a child’s development. You were taking care of him alone before, so there were probably some things you didn’t consider thoroughly or notice. But now that I’m here, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to raise him well—into someone useful to the country and the people."
He spoke with great passion, and Zhao Ger almost laughed.
He didn’t have such grand expectations for Guaizai. As long as the boy grew up healthy and safe, that was enough.
Once they started talking about Guaizai, Fang Zichen had endless questions, firing them off one after another.
"I’ve noticed that a lot of kids in our village have names like ‘Gousheng (Dog Leftover),’ ‘Niudan (Ox Egg),’ or ‘Huzi (Tiger Boy).’ What made you decide to name him Guaizai (Good Boy)?"
After saying it so many times, the name had started to sound quite endearing.
No one in the surrounding villages had a name like that. The village was superstitious—they believed children’s lives were fragile, so they had to be given lowly names to keep them grounded and ensure they grew up well.
Zhao Ger smiled. "Because he’s been very well-behaved since he was little. He rarely cried, only when he was truly starving would he whimper a little."
Fang Zichen licked his lips. There were some things he hadn’t felt right asking before—first because they weren’t close, and second because their relationship had been different. Even now, it wasn’t entirely appropriate, but he couldn’t help himself.
He was like a current partner probing about an ex, carrying a strange sense of hostility.
"What about… that bastard?"
"What?"
"The bastard who forced himself on you!"
"......" Zhao Ger’s expression turned odd. Fang Zichen noticed him staring and paused. "Why are you looking at me like that? You don’t like me calling him a bastard?"
Zhao Ger lowered his gaze and went back to cutting the long beans. His voice was quiet as he said, "He disappeared after that night."
Fang Zichen spat in disgust, his disdain clear. Then he asked, "So when you were pregnant with Guaizai all by yourself… it must’ve been really hard, huh?"
"......Mn." Zhao Ger didn’t deny it.
Because it truly was hard. When the Ma family found out he was pregnant, they flew into a rage, hurling insults and kicking and beating him. The child nearly didn’t survive back then.
They tried to force him to abort it, but he refused to no end. The Ma family, fearing disgrace, considered forcing the matter—so he declared that if the child died, he wouldn’t live either.
Seeing he wasn’t bluffing, the Ma family reluctantly backed down. Not because they cared if he died, but because they’d lose out if he did.
That was how the child was saved.
During the pregnancy, he never had a full meal. Every day, he foraged for wild greens to eat. The Ma family, still hoping the child would miscarry on its own, kept piling work on him. Between the poor diet and overexertion, the baby came prematurely at the end of second month.
The labor started at midnight. He lay in the straw pile he used for warmth in the woodshed, spread a piece of clothing beneath him, and bit down on a stick—terrified, in pain, struggling for hours until his strength was utterly spent. Just when he thought he would die, the child was finally born.
Guaizai was so tiny when he came out, like a newborn kitten. Zhao Ger used scissors he’d borrowed beforehand from Aunt Liu to cut the umbilical cord, wrapped the baby in clothes, and then broke down crying.
"I’d just given birth and wasn’t in good shape, so I couldn’t go out to find food. I starved for two days until Aunt Liu, not seeing me come out to work, grew worried and sent Xiao Wen to check on me at night." Zhao Ger spoke calmly. "When she found out I’d had the baby, she sent over a lot of things through him."
By then, Zhou Ger had already given birth to Liuliu, so they had baby clothes at home. Aunt Liu hadn’t expected Zhao Ger to deliver early and hadn’t prepared anything in advance. Liu Xiaowen brought three sets of Liuliu’s old clothes for Guaizai—so many that Liuliu himself didn’t even have any left to wear.
When Zhou Ger gave birth, Aunt Liu made sure he ate an egg every day during his confinement. She only slaughtered three chickens for him. But knowing Zhao Ger had delivered prematurely and worried about his health, she ended up killing six chickens for him, sending them over with Liu Xiaowen late at night over several days.
At first, Zhao Ger was too ashamed to accept—Aunt Liu’s family wasn’t well-off either. He told Liu Xiaowen just a coarse grain pancake would be enough. Liu Xiaowen immediately scolded him:
"What’s more important, a few chickens or your life? Look at the state you’re in!" Liu Xiaowen was close to Zhao Ger. That night, when he climbed into the Ma family’s yard and saw Zhao Ger lying motionless in the straw, eyes shut, emaciated and frail, his legs nearly gave out.
Even now, the memory made his heart clench.
His voice wavered slightly. He closed his eyes, silent for a moment before saying, "Focus on recovering. If we run out of chickens, I’ll buy more from town. If the Ma family tries to make you work, come find me—I’ll do it for you. Don’t push yourself. You have a child now. You’re not alone anymore, understand?"
Yet before Zhao Ger had even rested three days, the Ma family impatiently ordered him back to work.
Watching him carry the baby and a hoe as he left, they sneered, "This whore’s life is tough, even this didn’t kill him."
Though Liu Xiaowen had promised to help, tasks like cooking, feeding the pigs, and washing clothes were things he couldn’t take over.
Those days were truly grueling. The premature birth had wrecked Zhao Ger’s health. During his confinement, he was frighteningly weak, his face deathly pale, his hands and legs trembling whenever he worked.
That he survived at all was nothing short of a miracle.
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