Chapter 63
He had memorized numbers from one to thirty and mastered addition and subtraction, allowing him to solve problems with ease. Yang Mingyi worked diligently at his task. Since Fang Zichen wasn’t around at the moment, he closed the door.
Meanwhile, Guaizai entertained himself by counting on his fingers, and once bored, he didn’t wander or touch things randomly inside the room—remaining obedient and well-mannered.
The window behind him was open, facing the street. Seeing that Yang Mingyi wasn’t paying attention, he climbed off the stool and leaned on the windowsill to watch the passersby.
One big, one small—the atmosphere was peaceful.
____
He had woken up early that morning. Fang Zichen told him to go home and rest, but Zhao Ger didn’t take a break upon returning. Instead, he headed straight to Zhou Ger’s house.
Zhou Ger was currently in the vegetable field.
Previously, fearing the vegetables wouldn’t sell and with few mouths to feed at home, only half the field had been planted. Now, they intended to plant the entire plot. Without an ox, plowing and loosening the soil relied entirely on manual labor.
Zhou Ger toiled under the scorching sun, his straw hat doing little to shield him from the heat as sweat poured down his face. Aunt Li arrived.
“Zhou Ger.”
“Mother,” Zhou Ger paused his work, his voice devoid of surprise and his tone flat. “What do you want?”
Perhaps feeling guilty, Aunt Li glanced around—no one was nearby—before speaking. “About what we discussed last time... have you made your decision?”
Zhou Ger fell silent for a long moment before raising his head, staring straight at Aunt Li. “Tell me truthfully, Mother. When you urged me to divorce, was it really for my sake?”
Aunt Li panicked instantly, avoiding his gaze. “A mother always wants what’s best for her child. I wouldn’t harm you.”
“You wouldn’t harm me,” Zhou Ger said, his tone resolute—whether from exhaustion or provoked by her evasive eyes. “But you haven’t treated me well either.” Words he had never dared to say before, or felt unnecessary, now poured out:
“If you truly cared for me, why haven’t you visited me all these years? We live so close. When I came home to see you, why didn’t you ever stand up for me when Eldest Sister-in-law and Second Sister-in-law belittled me?”
Aunt Li stammered, falling silent.
She couldn’t refute a single word.
Zhou Ger pressed on relentlessly: “Father called me a ‘money-losing burden.’ Eldest Brother and Second Brother bullied me. You said Father was the head of the household, and you couldn’t defy him. That when you grew old, you’d rely on Eldest Brother and Second Brother to support you, so you couldn’t stand up for me. But what about Eldest Sister-in-law and Second Sister-in-law? I’m your own flesh and blood!”
The more he spoke, the more bitter he felt.
His father never called him “Zhou Ger”—only “money-losing burden.”
He always said: What’s the use of having you? We raised you with so much effort, only for you to marry into another family. Once you’re gone, you’re someone else’s. What does that have to do with the Zhou family anymore?
Father Zhou was sharp-tongued and saw nothing wrong with his words. Though he looked down on Zhou Ger, he still had some conscience—he fed him.
But sometimes, the most hurtful, the most fatal wounds didn’t come from kicks or scoldings—but from the relentless repetition of money-losing burden.
Aunt Li masked her panic. “Zhou Ger, listen to me. Come home with me. Even if you don’t want to remarry, you can stay with us. Your Eldest Brother and Second Brother will support you. Liu Xiaowen died out there—he got off easy. But you have to care for the child and two elderly parents. How will you endure?”
The moment she said “Liu Xiaowen died out there” with such certainty, Zhou Ger’s composure shattered. “What did you say?”
“Zhou Ger, my words may sound harsh, but I wouldn’t harm you! I—”
“Get out! Get out!”
They parted on bad terms again. Only after Aunt Li had left did Zhou Ger crouch on the ground, burying his face in his hands as he wept.
Behind a tree—
Zhao Ger frowned. Aunt Liu, her eyes red, handed him a basket and said, “Zhao Ger, go comfort him. I… I’ll head back first.”
The basket contained some water. Zhao Ger took a deep breath before approaching.
Zhou Ger looked up slowly. “Zhao Ger, why are you here?” His gaze landed on the familiar basket in Zhao Ger’s hands, and understanding dawned.
“Was Mother here just now? Did you both hear?”
“Yes.” Zhao Ger pointed under the shade of a tree. “Let’s talk over there.”
Zhou Ger had no energy for work now. He followed, and the two sat on the edge of the field. Zhao Ger relayed what Fang Zichen had said the previous night.
“…So that’s how it is,” Zhou Ger murmured, picking at a hangnail. “No wonder she suddenly cared about me. No wonder.”
“My husband was just speculating. It might not be accurate.” Zhao Ger hesitated but added cautiously, “Maybe we overthought it.”
Zhou Ger said softly, “He's right.”
“Zhou Ger,” Zhao Ger pulled his hand away. “Don’t be like this.”
Tears fell from Zhou Ger’s eyes. Only now did he notice the blood welling beside his fingernail—only now did the pain spread.
“Am I really her child? How could she treat me like this?” His shoulders trembled. His sobs mixed with the cicadas’ drone, grating on Zhao Ger’s ears.
“Zhao Ger, I don’t understand.” Zhou Ger said, “Why are some parents so cruel? I gave birth to Liuliu. I love and cherish him—not because he’s a boy. Even if he were a ger or a girl, I’d still love him like my life. But my mother—how could she treat me like this? Just because I’m a ger, destined to marry out, so in her eyes, only my two brothers matter? How could she be so heartless?”
Zhao Ger didn’t speak.
He had nothing to say. In these times, no ger or girl remained unmarried at home. Even if the Zhou family didn’t care, Zhou Ger would drown in the gossip outside.
Zhou Ger's parents were wrong—Zhou Ger could criticize them, but Zhao Ger couldn’t judge.
After venting for a while, Zhou Ger gradually calmed down.
“Pour me some water. Crying made me thirsty.”
Zhao Ger handed him the water. “Don’t overthink it. Aunt Liu heard everything earlier. If you’ve decided not to go back, tell her—so she doesn’t worry.”
Aunt Liu, after all, was his mother-in-law. She cared for Zhou Ger and wouldn’t pressure him to stay or forbid him from remarrying.
Zhou Ger nodded. “I know.”
____
When it was time, Fang Zichen put away the account books and dashed to the third floor—as if hiding a secret lover waiting for him.
“Sweetheart, Father’s here.”
Guaizai had been sprawled on the table, scribbling with a brush. Hearing this, he beamed and rushed to the door. “Father’s off work! Does Father miss Guaizai?”
Fang Zichen picked him up. “Of course!”
Guaizai was delighted.
Yang Mingyi stood up. “Brother Fang.”
Fang Zichen asked, “Did you finish what I assigned today?”
Yang Mingyi shook his head. “Not yet.”
Yang Mingyi was clever, and Fang Zichen had tailored his “homework” to be light.
“Did Guaizai disturb you?”
Guaizai, perched in Fang Zichen’s arms, blinked at Yang Mingyi. His big, dark eyes held no particular expression—yet Yang Mingyi felt that if he nodded, Guaizai might burst into tears and sever ties with him on the spot. He averted his gaze. “No. At noon, he just watched people by the window. He didn’t make a fuss.”
Yet somehow, this answer made Fang Zichen’s face darken—though not at him.
“Brother Fang?”
Fang Zichen exhaled, shifting his attention to the desk. “How many pages are left?”
“Two.”
“I’ll check them tomorrow at noon. Try to finish them today or tomorrow morning.”
Yang Mingyi said, “Understood.”
“Then I’ll head back first. Guaizai, say goodbye to Uncle Yang.”
Guaizai stretched his arms toward Yang Mingyi, silent but clearly asking for a hug. Yang Mingyi hesitated but stepped forward. Guaizai wrapped his arms around his neck and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
“Yang Pig, Guaizai loves you.”
Yang Mingyi: “……”
Fang Zichen pinched Guaizai’s soft little buttocks, laughing. “You little rascal.”
“Not rascal!” Guaizai, with the intellect of a sixty-year-old, declared solemnly, “Yang Pig is pretty. Guaizai will marry him later. Kissing your fulang is an act of love!”
Yang Mingyi: “……”
He froze. By the time he regained his senses, Fang Zichen’s teasing voice was already drifting in from outside.
“Oh-ho, what does a little brat like you know about fulang?”
“Know! Like Father and Daddy. Later, Yang Pig will sleep with Guaizai and call Guaizai husband.”
Amused by his grand plans, Fang Zichen nearly laughed out loud. He didn’t take it seriously—just a child playing make-believe. At three years old, his brain was smaller than a pig’s.
“Then should Father save up for your bride price?”
“Yes~” Guaizai planted a kiss on him. “Need twenty coppers.”
Twenty coppers couldn’t even buy half a pig’s leg.
Carrying Guaizai, Fang Zichen headed to West Street. He often bought meat there and was familiar with the butcher. Today, he wanted to discuss pig’s blood and intestines—and buy two large marrow bones.
Li Da’s meat business thrived. With over a decade in the trade, he had a loyal customer base. Usually, he slaughtered two pigs daily, and by this hour, only eight or nine catties of scraps remained. Today, however, half a pig still lay on the chopping block.
How strange. Stranger still—Li Da was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a sturdy woman in her thirties stood behind the butcher's block.
From down the street, Fang Zichen watched as she brought her cleaver down with terrifying force. The blade flashed—whether by its sharpness or her brute strength—before striking with a thunderous crack! The massive bone split perfectly in half, the cleaver lodging itself inches deep into the wooden block beneath.
What monstrous strength!
Passersby who witnessed this—even if not for the first time—shuddered and gave the stall a wide berth.
A two-meter radius around the meat stall stood eerily empty.
Fang Zichen approached with Guaizai.
Li Yanmei's eyes had locked onto him the instant his figure appeared at the west end of the street.
How could they not? The young man was striking—his aristocratic features and commanding height making the bustling crowd around him fade into mere background wash
She asked in a sweet voice that dripped with honey, “What can I get for you, young master?”
Fang Zichen shivered. Not from the earlier display of strength—but from this.
“…I’d like some marrow bones.”
Li Yanmei smiled like a blooming flower. “One moment, young master.”
Fang Zichen stood frozen, still recovering from the shock.
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