Chapter 48
As the saying goes: Better to arrive at the right time than early. When Fang Zichen returned to Xiaohe Village, Zhao Ger happened to be cornered by Ma Wen.
[赶早不如赶的巧 (gǎn zǎo bùrú gǎn de qiǎo): lit. Better to arrive at the right time than early; fig. Perfect timing is more important than haste.]
Someone at the village entrance spotted Fang Zichen and immediately ran over: "Fang Zichen, you're back! Quick, go check—Zhao Ger is being harassed by Ma Wen again. They’re arguing right now!"
This was no lie. At that moment, Zhao Ger’s eyes were red with anger as he confronted Ma Wen: "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Ma Wen avoided his gaze: "I... I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"You don’t know?" Zhao Ger sneered. "Blocking me in a crowded place—isn’t it obvious you want people to gossip about us? At first, I didn’t even realize it. I had no idea the villagers were spreading rumors until Zhou Ger told me. If not for him, I’d still be in the dark. Ma Wen, I know exactly what you’re scheming."
"...I didn’t—"
Ma Wen tried to explain, but Zhao Ger cut him off, his voice icy: "Were you thinking that if Fang Zichen heard those rumors, he’d doubt me, abandon me, and then I’d have nowhere to go? With a ruined reputation and a child, I’d have no choice but to turn to you?"
Ma Wen still attempted to defend himself: "Zhao Ger, you’ve misunderstood me. I never thought that."
"Then why do you keep pestering me? Why say things that could easily be misconstrued?"
Zhao Ger’s tone dripped with scorn. "Ma Wen, you’re rotten to the core. I never hated you this much before, but now? You’re utterly despicable."
Ma Wen choked on his words. Zhao Ger’s blunt accusation stripped away any pretense, leaving him both humiliated and furious.
Finally, he admitted it: "Fine. Yes, that’s exactly what I thought. You were supposed to be mine. I’m just trying to get you back, what’s wrong with that? Zhao Ger, I love you!"
Again and again, Ma Wen refused to listen. Zhao Ger was beyond frustrated, but before he could retort, a cold, razor-sharp voice cut in.
"Love my ass..."
Zhao Ger’s eyes widened.
Ma Wen turned to see Fang Zichen striding toward them, his expression dark, a wooden stick in his right hand. The end of the stick dragged along the ground, scraping against stones with a dull, ominous thud.
The sound seemed to reverberate in their chests, tightening the air.
Ma Wen’s nerves frayed. His hands trembled slightly as memories of Liu Laizi’s bloodied, battered face flashed in his mind.
"...Husband," Zhao Ger called out, forcing a weak smile, his palms sweating. "Why... why are you back so early?"
Fang Zichen didn’t answer. He didn’t even glance at Zhao Ger, his gaze fixed solely on Ma Wen.
Zhao Ger pressed his lips together, his heart clenching.
If Fang Zichen had returned unexpectedly at this hour, he must have already heard the rumors.
Panic surged through Zhao Ger, but before he could explain, Fang Zichen grabbed his hand and pulled him firmly behind his back.
Fang Zichen looked Ma Wen up and down, then grinned. "Oh, it’s you!"
He’d seen this man in town before and thought he looked familiar. Now he realized—this was Ma Dazhuang’s son.
"I heard your name is Ma Wen?" Fang Zichen’s smile remained polite, almost scholarly, as he complimented, "Wonderful name. Zhū wēn (猪瘟, swine fever), mǎ wēn (马瘟, horse plague)', and your name Ma Wen (马汶) - what a beautifully matched set of disasters."
Ma Wen’s face turned ashen.
A crowd had gathered, some even running off to fetch Ma Dazhuang and Madam Ma, shouting exaggerated warnings: "Hey, Dazhuang! Your son’s fighting Fang Zichen! It’s life or death—hurry over!"
Fang Zichen was seething, but in front of Zhao Ger, he kept his composure, maintaining an air of detached elegance.
Zhao Ger stood shielded behind him, completely hidden from view. Ma Wen took a deep breath and blurted out, "You must know, Zhao Ger was originally my fulang."
"And?"
"When Zhao Ger was sold to you, I wasn’t home. But he’s my fulang. I love him. I want to buy him back."
Fang Zichen almost laughed. "Dream on. Stay the hell away from Zhao Ger, or I’ll beat you every time I see you."
Ma Wen’s eyes darkened, fear and stubborn pride warring inside him. "What, scared he’ll fall for me?"
"Fall for you?" Fang Zichen burst into laughter, genuinely amused. "Fall for what? Your ugliness? Your short stature? With a husband like me, why would he ever look at a mediocre nobody like you? Unless he’s lost his mind—and his eyesight."
Ma Wen: "......"
He had no rebuttal.
Because it was all true.
Not wanting to lose face in front of Zhao Ger, Ma Wen grasped at straws: "I work at the shipping firm in town. I make six to seven hundred copper coins a month. What about you? All you do is haul sacks at the docks—what else can you do?"
Some in the crowd nodded. Looks weren’t everything, money and stability mattered more.
Zhou Ger, standing among the onlookers, nearly facepalmed.
Bragging about six hundred coins in front of someone earning three taels of silver? It was ridiculous.
Fang Zichen didn’t respond, only thinking how the entire Ma family was rotten to the core.
As the saying goes: If the upper beam is crooked, the lower ones will follow. From the moment a child begins to imitate, they absorb their parents’ traits.
[上梁不正下梁歪 (shàngliáng bù zhèng xiàliáng wāi): lit. If the upper beam is crooked, the lower ones will follow; fig. Bad leadership corrupts the whole system.]
If the foundation is corrupt, and the child never learns right from wrong, they’ll grow up just like their parents.
Ma Wen was a perfect example.
Selfish, shameless, and devoid of conscience—just like the rest of the Ma family.
If Zhao Ger had loved him, Fang Zichen might have stepped aside. But Zhao Ger clearly didn’t. Worse, Ma Wen couldn’t even protect him. Now that Zhao Ger belonged to someone else, Ma Wen’s behavior was downright disgusting.
Madam Ma and Ma Dazhuang came running, shoes half-off in their panic.
From a distance, Madam Ma started wailing, cursing Fang Zichen’s ancestors eighteen generations back. But when she got closer and saw her son unharmed, she abruptly shut up.
Fang Zichen smirked. "Keep going. Why stop?"
Madam Ma didn’t dare utter another word. She grabbed Ma Wen and tried to drag him away.
These days, she was all bark and no bite. When Ma Wen had been slashed by Zhao Ger before, she’d been furious—but she’d only dared to curse at home for days, never confronting Zhao Ger directly.
As Ma Wen turned to leave, Fang Zichen called after him: "Hey, since you make six to seven hundred coins a month, why not visit Zuixiao Restaurant sometime? I work there as the bookkeeper. For a big spender like you, I’ll even give you a discount."
Zhao Ger: "......"
Zhou Ger covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. The sarcasm was lethal.
The villagers stared, stunned.
Zuixiao Restaurant? Everyone knew that place. Fang Zichen worked there as the bookkeeper? That was impressive!
He Xi pushed through the crowd, grinning. "How much do you make a month? I heard the waiters get six hundred coins. You must earn way more, right?"
Fang Zichen shrugged. "Not much. Just three taels of silver. Barely enough to get by."
The crowd: "......"
Eyes flicked to Ma Wen, whose face cycled through shades of green, white, and red.
He Xi gasped dramatically, grinning at Ma Wen. "Three taels?! That’s huge! What’s six hundred coins compared to that? Guess some people have nothing to brag about."
While the villagers were still processing the revelation, Zhao Ger stayed silent, pressing his forehead against Fang Zichen’s back, breathing in the scent of soapberries on his clothes. His earlier panic had faded.
The thin summer fabric let him feel Fang Zichen’s warmth. When Zhao Ger exhaled softly, Fang Zichen shivered slightly, then chuckled under his breath.
Zhao Ger traced idle circles on his back with a fingertip, the touch light as a crawling insect—tingling, teasing.
At that moment, Fang Zichen no longer cared about Ma Wen. He wanted to deal with the troublemaker behind him first.
After delivering a few final threats, he dragged Zhao Ger away.
Guaizai was at Aunt Liu’s house, so the house was empty.
No comments:
Post a Comment