Chapter 76
Before the sun had set, Madam Ma, Li Shi, and Sun Shi had already gathered the grain and moved it into the house.
Fang Zichen had asked Zhao Ger before, and Zhao Ger said that rice grains were small, unlike corn which needed to be sun-dried for a long time. Grain usually only needed to be sun-dried for four or five days. It had rained the previous two days, and calculating now, about a week had passed, so it should indeed be dry.
In the evening, after bathing, Fang Zichen sat in the yard. He kept looking up. Guaizai sat on a small stool at his feet, imitating him, but his neck ached from looking, and he didn't see anything interesting. He squeezed between Fang Zichen's legs and asked, "Father, what are you looking at?"
"Reading the celestial phenomena," Fang Zichen said.
Guaizai tilted his big head: "What are celestial phenomena?"
Fang Zichen rubbed his sore neck, not hesitating to brush off his son: "You're still young, it's profound. You wouldn't understand even if I told you."
Zhao Ger, after washing his feet, brought a stool over. The room was stuffy, so he wanted to cool off with them for a while. But he had barely sat down for a moment before Fang Zichen pulled him back into the room: "Let's sleep early tonight."
Zhao Ger thought he was just tired. Then, just past midnight, he was shaken awake by Fang Zichen.
"What's wrong?" he asked groggily.
"Get up quickly," Fang Zichen urged. "We're going to do something big."
Zhao Ger looked outside and reminded him: "It's still dark outside."
"That's exactly why it's the best time to do things. A dark and windy night is perfect for stealing chickens and touching dogs," Fang Zichen said.
[偷雞摸狗 (tōu jī mō gǒu): lit. To steal chickens and touch dogs; fig. To do sneaky or underhanded things]
There were no dogs in the village. Zhao Ger thought he really meant to steal a chicken and was utterly stunned.
Could someone as radiant and impressive as Fang Zichen really do something like stealing a chicken?
Should I stop him?
Does he want to eat chicken?
In the past few months, their family indeed hadn't eaten chicken once. If he wanted some, Zhao Ger still had a little silver. Though not much, it was enough to buy a chicken.
____
Even when they arrived outside the Ma family's courtyard wall, Zhao Ger was still in a daze.
Seeing his sleepy, confused state, Fang Zichen poked his bun-like cheek and whispered, "Do you know which room is the kitchen?"
These past few days, he had taken Guaizai for walks, pretending to stroll, but actually casing the Ma family's place. Unfortunately, the Ma family's mud-built courtyard wall was a bit high, and from a distance, he couldn't see inside.
The Ma family had many people, so they had built many houses—six rooms next to each other—making it hard to tell which one was the kitchen.
The last time he came to the Ma family to teach them a lesson, he had only been focused on showing off his authority.
Zhao Ger snapped back to reality and, without hesitation, pointed directly to the small room on the far right, with an air of risking his life to accompany a gentleman, replying: "That one."
[舍命陪君子 (shě mìng péi jūnzǐ): lit. To risk one's life to accompany a gentleman; fig. To keep someone company at all costs, even if it means great personal sacrifice or danger]
"Mm!" Fang Zichen said. "Wait here."
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhao Ger saw Fang Zichen take out an object resembling a small bamboo tube from his chest pocket. A fuse was inserted into its center. Then, bracing his left hand against the top of the wall, he vaulted over with a nimble, practiced motion and landed inside the Ma family's courtyard.
Fang Zichen took out the explosive and threw it through the kitchen window, and tossed another into the Ma family's main hall. He led the fuses outside the wall, took out a fire starter, and lit them. The fuses hissed and burned.
"Run!"
Zhao Ger only heard him shout this, then his hand was grabbed, and Fang Zichen pulled him along as they ran.
They hadn't run far before he still hadn't figured out what Fang Zichen was doing.
Zhao Ger turned his head, about to ask in confusion, when a deafening 'boom' erupted from behind them.
The ground beneath their feet seemed to shake. His ears rang from the blast. In the silent night, the explosion echoed throughout Xiaohe Village.
As the dust settled, the Ma family's kitchen and the main hall next to it had completely collapsed.
Zhao Ger was dumbfounded, unable to speak for a long time: "This... this..."
"Hmph, let them bully you and our son," Fang Zichen said, pulling his hand as they walked back. "I'm teaching them a lesson for you, giving you a chance to vent."
He had originally thought about going up the mountain at night to blow up the Ma family's ancestral graves, but upon reflection, that seemed a bit too morally lacking.
He had made the explosives a long time ago. He waited so long to target the Ma family because he wanted to do something big.
Having been in Xiaohe Village for several months, he understood many things. He knew how important grain was to farmers. The Ma family had worked hard to harvest the rice and then worked hard to dry it. If it were all blown to dust, he wanted to see what they would eat then.
Blowing up the grain was wasteful, but he couldn't just steal it. Besides, giving it to those Ma family scumbags was practically wasting it anyway. Rather than feeding those beasts, it was better to blow it all up.
Before time-traveling, his grandmother was an official's daughter, his grandfather was a soldier, and his adoptive mother was an heiress of a wealthy family. His family upbringing was strict, and he received top-tier education. Combined with his innate personality, his manners and quality were impeccable. He wasn't arrogant, respected the elderly and loved the young, and didn't look down on anyone. But he also believed in 'if you respect me an inch, I'll respect you a foot.' If anyone dared to stab him, he would definitely turn them into a sieve.
Daring to lay a hand on his fulang and son was no different from slapping him directly in the face.
Hearing this, Zhao Ger only felt an inexplicable soreness and swelling in his heart, as if something was about to overflow from his chest. He had thought... thought that Fang Zichen had already forgotten about this matter. It turned out that Fang Zichen had always remembered, even though many days had passed.
His throat was dry, and he couldn't speak. Fang Zichen looked up—the moon was bright, indicating good weather for tomorrow. But if he wasn't mistaken, it should rain in the latter half of the night.
By then, the traces of the burned fuse would be washed away completely. In this era, gunpowder didn't exist yet. The Ma family could rack their brains and probably still wouldn't figure out it was him.
No comments:
Post a Comment