Chapter 42
"Kneel and beg me?" Zhao Ger took a few steps back. The sight of Ma Wen nodding made the corners of his lips curl slightly:
"Do you think I have to agree just because you kneel? Back then, I knelt to your parents, kowtowing and begging them, but they never agreed to a single thing. I knelt to them, and now you want to kneel to me. Ma Wen, don’t you find this ironic?"
Ma Wen’s lowered gaze suddenly lifted, landing on his face: "I—"
Zhao Ger cut him off: "Back then, you didn’t stand up and say a single word for me either."
"Right, I’m sorry." Under Zhao Ger’s aggressive stance, Ma Wen’s straight spine hunched even further.
He seemed to be holding his breath: "…Then what do you like about him? What part of me isn’t better than him?"
Fang Zichen might be handsome, but he was penniless, didn’t own a single plot of land in the village, and even lived in the village chief’s house. Many people gossiped that Zhao Ger had jumped from one pit of fire into another—his life was truly bitter.
Zhao Ger clenched his fists, his face cold with anger as he retorted:
"Every part of you is worse than him. When I’m bullied or wronged, he won’t just stand by and watch like you did. He’ll stand up for me. He doesn’t look down on me or treat me like I owe him something. He’s nothing like you."
Ma Wen fell silent for a long moment, his expression darkening. Suddenly, he said: "Then don’t blame me."
"Tsk tsk tsk, this Ma Wen is really a lovesick fool," He Ergou muttered under his breath. "I think his brain’s not right either. Zhao Ger might be good-looking, but he’s already been living with Fang Zichen for so long—they must’ve done everything by now. If it were me, I wouldn’t want him anymore. With his money, he could marry a sweet, soft girl—wouldn’t that be better than a ger? And here he is kneeling for someone, tch, what a disgrace."
Liu Laizi, who had been beaten up by Fang Zichen before and was now traumatized, didn’t want to get involved: "Keep your voice down. If Fang Zichen hears you, you might end up in the medical hall. Don’t say I didn’t warn—"
Before the words "warn you" could even leave his throat, He Ergou’s sudden shout scared them back down.
"Holy sh*t—" He Ergou’s fingers trembled slightly.
Liu Laizi looked over—Ma Wen was clutching his arm, his face pale, bright red blood dripping from his fingers.
Zhao Ger’s expression was icy, a sickle in his hand stained with blood.
Liu Laizi hadn’t been watching earlier and didn’t know what happened. He Ergou explained: "Ma Wen just tried to drag Zhao Ger into the bushes, and Zhao Ger slashed him."
The strike had been swift, without a hint of hesitation.
Men often loved seeking thrills, challenging the impossible.
He Ergou used to think Zhao Ger’s big eyes were captivating when he glared, making his heart race every time Zhao Ger shot him a look. Right now, though, he wasn’t sure if his heart was racing—but his legs sure felt weak.
He remembered back when Zhao Ger would return from hoeing the fields, and he’d block his path to tease him. Zhao Ger had always gripped the hoe handle tightly. At the time, He Ergou thought it was out of fear, that he was holding onto something for courage. But after witnessing this scene, he reconsidered—probably not. Back then, he’d only run his mouth and never actually laid hands. If he had, that hoe would’ve probably come crashing down on his head.
The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.
He didn’t even dare to keep watching. "…Let’s get out of here!"
When something you can’t have lingers in your mind for too long, when you crave it for too long, it becomes an obsession.
Ma Wen’s mindset seemed to have shifted entirely.
Pleading bitterly hadn’t worked, so now he’d resort to force.
If he couldn’t have it, then he’d destroy it.
This malice surged uncontrollably.
Zhao Ger’s eyes were cold: "Your parents, your second uncle, your third uncle—not a single one of your Ma family is any good. I used to hear people say ‘if the upper beam is crooked, the lower beam will be too,’ and I didn’t believe it. But now I see—you’re truly their spawn."
Zhao Ger returned home with a full basket of bamboo shoots. After resting for a while, Zhou Ger came by with Guaizai.
"Why did you pick so many?" Zhou Ger asked. "Are you out of food at home?"
"No, my husband likes these," Zhao Ger said, noticing the basket in Zhou Ger’s hand filled with garlic leaves and cabbage. "Did you just come back from the fields?"
Zhou Ger nodded. "Yeah! Just got to the doorstep when Guaizai said he wanted to come back, so I figured I’d drop some off for you on the way." He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Zhao Ger took the initiative: "What’s wrong?"
After all these years of knowing each other, Zhou Ger spoke up: "Guaizai said your man’s been teaching you all how to read?"
Zhao Ger understood and smiled. "Yeah! If Liuliu has time, he can come over. Guaizai’s been learning well, he reviews for half a shichen (1 hour) every day. Liuliu can study with him."
Zhou Ger beamed with joy.
He didn’t expect Liuliu to become as learned as Fang Zichen. Just knowing a few characters would be enough—unlike them, who couldn’t recognize a single word, toiling under the sun their whole lives, working themselves to the bone and still struggling to fill their stomachs.
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