Xiaohe Village wasn’t too far from Fu’an Town. Fang Zichen was tall and long-legged, it only took him about thirty minutes to walk there. Zhao Ger went to town every day to sell things. There was no one at home to help look after Guaizai, and he felt bad always troubling Zhou Ger and Aunt Liu. The village children didn’t play with Guaizai, so Zhao Ger always took him along.
The dirt road from the village to Fu’an Town was not easy to walk. It was pitted and bumpy, uneven, with many small stones. Guaizai’s shoes had thin soles. He was afraid of tiring Zhao Ger out and wouldn’t let him carry him, walking by himself every day.
A child’s skin was tender. After over a month of this, the soles of his feet were covered in blisters. Zhao Ger bathed him every day but had actually not noticed. It was only a few nights ago, when he was playing with Fang Zichen and Fang Zichen tried to tickle his feet, that it was discovered.
His feet were covered in blisters, and the ones that had formed earlier were worn open again, revealing the red flesh inside. Fang Zichen saw this and felt deeply distressed. He asked if it hurt, but the child shook his head and said it didn't.
Guaizai was small, much smaller than the average three-year-old child. His feet were barely the length of his thumb. Fang Zichen gently held them, gave a slight squeeze, took a deep breath, and asked, "Why didn't you tell your father and daddy?"
Guaizai wiggled his little toes. Zhao Ger was still busy working in the kitchen. He hugged Fang Zichen and whispered in his ear, "Daddy would be sad. Guaizai is a good boy, cannot make Daddy sad."
Fang Zichen patted his head, feeling a sense of loss of control and agitation. He thought about how he had lived for eighteen years without ever being beaten or scolded. If he had to name the greatest harm, the greatest pain he had ever suffered, it was only having a tooth pulled.
Just how far had one walked for the soles of the feet to be rubbed raw into blisters? Would it hurt when the blisters broke? How much would it hurt? He had never experienced it, but even without experiencing it, he could imagine.
His son had suffered.
After Zhao Ger finished bathing, he closed all the courtyard gates and returned to the room. Guaizai was already asleep.
The oil lamp cast a feeble glow. Fang Zichen had not taken his eyes off Guaizai, a deep frown etched on his face. He looked genuinely worried and upset, his expression uncharacteristically serious and heavy.
Zhao Ger moved Guaizai to the inside of the bed, lay down himself, hugged Fang Zichen's lean waist, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Our son's feet are covered in blisters," Fang Zichen said.
Zhao Ger immediately sat up again and lifted Guaizai's feet to look. The soles of both feet didn't have a patch of good skin. He understood almost instantly what had happened, and his eyes reddened.
His heart ached, and he felt guilty.
He was with his son every day, yet he hadn't noticed at all.
"Don't cry," Fang Zichen hugged him.
Zhao Ger stared at Guaizai's feet, took a long time to calm down, and said in a low voice, "It's all my fault."
Fang Zichen poked him and said, "Don't talk nonsense. How can this be your fault?"
"I..."
"If you keep talking nonsense, I'll hit you, huh."
Zhao Ger, threatened by this ruffian, ultimately didn't dare to say anything more. He got out of bed, fetched a needle, and helped Guaizai pop the unbroken blisters.
Fang Zichen tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. He thought about it all night and still wanted to buy a horse for his son. With a horse cart, his son's two short little legs could be liberated.
Oxen and horses were large. Chickens and ducks could be sold on West Street, but livestock like oxen and horses were only available at the horse market on East Street.
The smell in the horse market was overwhelming. Fang Zichen was nearly stunned by the stench. The moment his figure appeared, the owner came forward to greet him, asking what he wanted to buy.
Oxen and horses weren't cheap, often costing over ten or twenty taels. It was rare for someone to spend so much silver all at once. Often, there weren't any customers for ten days or half a month.
There were also those who couldn't afford to buy but came to watch the excitement, but those people were mostly shabbily dressed, unlike Fang Zichen, who had exquisite features and a noble demeanor, like a pampered young master from a privileged family.
Fang Zichen had learned horseback riding at an equestrian club when he was young. Later, after he mastered it, on his thirteenth birthday, his adoptive father bought him a white pure-blood Arabian from abroad. He would go riding during holidays, so he had some knowledge of horses.
The horses in this market truly had all the "old, weak, sick, and disabled." After walking around, Fang Zichen found only one that was barely passable.
Fang Zichen pointed at the reddish-brown horse and asked, "How much for this one?"
"Young master, you have excellent taste." The owner was a man who looked a bit comical, with a goatee and two eyes... about the size of soybeans. He rubbed his hands together, smiling: "This horse is only four years old, right in its prime for running and pulling. We're selling it for twenty-nine taels."
"..." Fang Zichen wondered if he had misheard: "How much?"
The owner's attitude was very good: "Twenty-nine taels."
A strong laborer from the yahang only cost six taels, but a single horse was twenty-nine taels??!
[牙行 (yá háng): A historical Chinese brokerage agency that mediated transactions, including the hiring of servants, laborers, and the sale of goods (e.g., livestock, property). While it arranged contracts for indentured servants, it was distinct from outright slave trading, operating under government-regulated terms.]
This is the series where people are worse off than horses.
Fang Zichen wanted to turn around and leave, but that would feel like losing face. Back in the day, he could buy BMWs and Ferraris whenever he wanted. If he fancied one, he'd throw down his card and casually say 'charge it.'
Now... damn, it's really true that a good man doesn't boast about his past bravery.
He coughed, his face not red nor his heart racing, and asked, "Can it be a little cheaper?"
"Aiyo, young master, it really can't be cheaper. This horse is a fine horse!" The owner pried open the horse's mouth, then felt its legs, explaining: "Look at its teeth, look at its legs, look at this coat, jet black and shiny. We transported it from the Western Regions, traveling countless miles. When facing obstacles, its joint movement, flexibility, and stability are all excellent. It can travel a hundred li in a day, comparable to a Ferghana horse."
Fang Zichen: "..."
The wind is strong today, just like your ability to boast.
He said, "Make it a bit cheaper!"
"Really can't!"
"Then forget it." Fang Zichen raised his foot to leave. The owner pulled him back, looking heartbroken: "Then, young master, how much cheaper do you want? We can discuss it!"
Fang Zichen had never haggled when buying things before. Now he found it somewhat amusing. He went back and forth with the owner, haggling for almost an hour until his mouth was dry. He managed to bring the price down from twenty-nine taels to twenty-one taels. The owner's heart was bleeding.
Actually, twenty-one taels wasn't a loss, just less profit. In their business, they first set the price at the highest point, leaving room for the customer to bargain.
The discounted portion makes the customer feel like they got a great deal.
Then everyone was happy.
The buyer was smiling, the seller was also laughing.
The owner asked Fang Zichen if he would take it for twenty-one taels.
Fang Zichen shook his head, waving his hand: "Can't afford it!"
The owner asked: "Young master still finds it expensive? Then just name your price! If it's suitable, I'll sell. If not, you can also look at others."
Fang Zichen smiled: "Six taels of silver."
The owner: "..."
Six taels of silver?
Want to buy a horse with six taels of silver?
Go buy shit!
____
Fang Zichen ultimately felt too embarrassed. In the end, he still bought a goat at the horse market.
It was only two taels of silver, about the same price as a pig.
Couldn't afford a horse, so just ride a goat!
An adult probably couldn't ride this goat, but Guaizai definitely could.
And goats were much easier to raise than horses, eating less. Just cut some grass and throw it to them.
When he brought the goat back that evening, Zhao Ger was stunned.
"You, why did you buy a goat?"
Fang Zichen waved to Guaizai: "For my son to ride."
Zhao Ger: "..."
Zhao Ger didn't know what to say. Fang Zichen picked up Guaizai and placed him on the goat's back, had Guaizai hold onto the horns, and then led the goat around the yard himself.
"Son, is riding a goat fun?"
None of the village children had goats to ride. His was the only one. Moreover, the little goat was white, well-behaved, and would bleat at him. Guaizai was so excited his little face was flushed red, gripping the horns tightly: "Fun~"
Zhao Ger didn't know what to say.
He had heard of people riding oxen and horses, but never of anyone riding a goat.
While teaching Guaizai to ride the goat, Fang Zichen said to Zhao Ger: "Once he learns how to ride the goat, in the mornings you can just have him sit on the goat's back and you hold the rope. The goat doesn't bite, so don't be afraid. Oh, right, I also bought you both a pair of shoes. Go see if they fit."
Zhao Ger had seen them earlier. He felt them, the soles were very sturdy, and the color was one he liked. The corners of his mouth curved slightly, his heart feeling warm. He pulled Fang Zichen, stood on his tiptoes, and kissed him.
Fang Zichen's heart suddenly tightened, his heart rate quickened, and his eyebrows furrowed: "Damn, you tormenting little enchantress. Go cook quickly. Tonight we'll have an in-depth exchange."
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