Chapter 45
Now, he still couldn’t sum up all the suffering he had endured in the past with a lighthearted "it wasn’t hard."
Zhao Ger spoke as if chatting, his face expressionless, as though he were talking about someone else’s affairs. He didn’t exaggerate the hardships, and some things he even glossed over with just a few words. But Fang Zichen could imagine it.
Sixteen years old, alone, heavily pregnant, still having to work in the fields despite his body’s discomfort, never having enough to eat or wear. In the dead of winter, he gave birth to a child all by himself in a cramped, drafty hut.
Back then, he was only sixteen. Giving birth was such a painful and dangerous ordeal, yet there wasn’t a single person by his side. He must have been terrified and helpless.
A heavy boulder seemed to press on Fang Zichen’s heart. He closed his eyes slightly, took a deep breath, and said in a hoarse voice, "Zhao Ger, I admire you. I wasn’t there before, so you suffered. But now that I’m here, get ready—from now on, you’ll live a life of luxury with me. I’ll treat you well."
He raised his fist, earnest and solemn: "If anyone bullies you, tell me. If you’re wronged, tell me. I’ll protect you, spoil you, for a lifetime."
Fang Zichen didn’t spout sweet nothings or flowery words. If he wanted to coax someone, he could easily come up with a hundred lines on the spot. But right now, he only spoke the most practical things, the things Zhao Ger most wanted to hear.
Zhao Ger had shown little reaction when talking about the past, but now tears streamed down his face. He put down the knife, turned, and hugged Fang Zichen’s waist with such force it was as if he wanted to fuse him into his very flesh.
In the past, he had always been alone—when in pain, when suffering, when happy, when eating, even during New Year’s Eve when every household was bustling with reunion. No matter what, he was always alone.
Lying like a dog in a tattered woodshed, going up the mountain alone to chop firewood, working the fields alone, foraging for wild greens alone.
Though he spoke of the past lightly, his face blank, he was still trapped in a daze, ensnared by the web of memories that gripped his fragile nerves.
Zhao Ger murmured softly, "Why?"
Why did you leave back then? Why didn’t you come sooner?
Fang Zichen couldn’t tell whether self-reproach or heartache weighed more heavily on him now.
He shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have pried open Zhao Ger’s old scars.
As an outsider, no matter his reasons, his burning curiosity and desire to understand felt like tearing open the other’s wounds—it was cruel to Zhao Ger.
Accidentally touching on Zhao Ger’s pain today, leading to this situation, was the biggest lesson.
Fang Zichen felt dampness on his shoulder. His heart clenched violently. Zhao Ger’s choked sobs reached his ears. He patted his back gently, his palm smoothing over Zhao Ger’s thin spine, warmth seeping through the coarse fabric between them.
Fang Zichen kissed the top of his head, his voice thick with sorrow:
"...It’s all over now."
At some point, Guaizai had run over and was now blinking up at them, his little head tilted.
"Daddy, what wong?"
Zhao Ger wiped his tears, his eyes red like a rabbit’s. He pressed his hands against Fang Zichen’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and warmth through his palms. "You have to keep your word."
Fang Zichen touched his face, then hugged him tightly. A thousand words clogged his throat, but he only managed a few: "Of course! Like I said before, do I need to swear something like 'may lightning strike me if I break my promise'?"
"...I believe you," Zhao Ger said.
Neither of them paid attention to Guaizai, too absorbed in their 'lovey-dovey' moment. Guaizai squeezed himself between them with all his might. Fang Zichen, feeling mischievous, tightened his arms around Zhao Ger, sandwiching Guaizai between them.
Guaizai was trapped like the filling in a biscuit, pinned between four legs, utterly bewildered.
Zhao Ger let out a quiet laugh. Fang Zichen loosened his grip and stepped back slightly. Guaizai raised his arms toward him. "Fahver, Guaizai want hug too!"
"Alright."
Fang Zichen picked him up. Guaizai planted a kiss on his cheek, then stretched to smack one on Zhao Ger’s face too. "Daddy no cwy. When Guaizai pee-pee hurt, Guaizai no cwy. Daddy no cwy too."
"......" Zhao Ger immediately laughed.
Fang Zichen remembered how, back when his second older brother caused trouble, his adoptive father would sigh and say, "Raising sons isn’t as good as raising daughters. Daughters are obedient, little cotton-padded jackets that warm the heart."
Right now, Fang Zichen scoffed at that notion.
Who said only daughters were warm cotton-padded jackets? His son alone could outshine nine of them.
Summer arrived, and the rains began to fall more frequently.
The fence around their house had rotted away in many places after years of neglect, so Zhao Ger went to the back mountain to cut some bamboo and carried it back, planning to build a new one.
After cooking breakfast for Fang Zichen in the morning, he took a hatchet and started splitting the bamboo in the yard. Fang Zichen walked over and asked, puzzled, "What are you doing?"
He had noticed the pile of bamboo in the yard when he returned from work last night but hadn’t had the chance to ask.
Zhao Ger said, "Splitting them to rebuild the fence."
"What’s the point?" Fang Zichen said.
The split bamboo was only as thick as a finger—good for keeping out hens and old dogs, maybe. But the village was poor, no one let their chickens roam free. People barely had enough to eat, let alone spare food for dogs.
He said, "Don’t waste your effort. When we have the money, we’ll hire someone to build a brick wall. That’ll be sturdy."
Zhao Ger gave him an impassive look. "That’ll take seven or eight years. By then, the fence will have rotted away completely."
Now, who did he think he was looking down on?
Fang Zichen didn’t like hearing such words. He glared. "Have some faith in your man! Our yard is small, even the best bricks won’t cost much. Is it really worth waiting seven or eight years?"
"I, Fang Zichen, am a man who can hold up the heavens. If I can prop up the sky, I can damn well build a fence. Otherwise, people would laugh at me."
Zhao Ger thought his confidence was staggering, his tone nothing short of grandiose. But he couldn’t help knocking him down a peg. "If you boast now and can’t deliver later, that’s when people will really laugh at you."
Fang Zichen: "......"
"Go eat your breakfast," Zhao Ger said. Then, after a pause, he added, "After the last heavy rain, Aunt Liu’s roof was damaged. They’re fixing it today, and they’ll probably be busy. Can I go help?"
When he was giving birth to Guaizai, Aunt Liu’s family had helped him greatly. Back at the Ma family, Madam Ma had constantly called Guaizai a bastard, treating him with nothing but scorn. Aside from the frequent beatings, she often denied him food.
The only reason Guaizai had survived to three years old was because Zhao Ger skimped on his own meals to feed him, along with the occasional secret help from Aunt Liu’s family.
This was a favor they had to return.
"If you have time, go ahead," Fang Zichen said. Then, after a moment’s thought, he added, "Actually, maybe I’ll skip work today and go with you."
"No need," Zhao Ger shook his head. "Thatched roofs aren’t hard to fix. We can manage. Besides, you don’t know how to do it anyway."
Fang Zichen: "......"
Looked down on again.
But truthfully, as a modern man who had lived in high-rises, he really didn’t know the first thing about repairing thatched roofs. So Fang Zichen went to work as usual.
The restaurant wasn’t busy in the morning. By lunchtime, customers trickled in, and Fang Zichen was kept busy for a while. His quick calculations and handsome face made customers willing to queue just for him, he didn’t even have time to fart.
By afternoon, things finally quieted down. After eating in the kitchen and seeing there wasn’t much left to do, he pulled out a book to study.
But before long, he felt a scorching gaze fixed on him. When he glanced up, he saw Zhao Ger standing outside the door.
His brow furrowed instinctively. After a quick word to Shopkeeper Yang, he hurried outside.
"What’s wrong?" he asked. "Why are you in town? Did something happen at home?"
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