Chapter 47
At dusk, on his way home from work, before even reaching the village entrance, Fang Zichen spotted Guaizai squatting by the roadside waiting for him from afar.
A tiny little lump.
"Guaizai..." He jogged over in a few strides. "What are you doing here? Didn’t you play with Liuliu?"
"I was waiting for Father here," Guaizai said warmly, taking his hand and looking up at him with big, round black eyes. "Thank you, Father."
Fang Zichen crouched down and patted his little head. "What are you thanking me for?"
"Father bought me meat buns, so I have to thank Father," Guaizai said in his childish voice.
Zhao Ger had brought him meat buns in the afternoon and told him his father had bought them, so he had been determined to thank Fang Zichen.
Guaizai had estimated when Fang Zichen would return from work and came to the village entrance early to wait.
Zhao Ger had told him that only polite children were liked by adults.
So he added, "Thank you, Father. When Guaizai grows up, Guaizai will definitely take good care of Father."
Seeing him speak so earnestly with a serious face, Fang Zichen was amused and deliberately asked, "Oh? How will you take care of Father then?"
"Uh..."
Guaizai didn’t really understand how to be filial to parents. He had just often heard the village elders say to children, "Good child, you know how to be filial to your grandparents. They didn’t spoil you for nothing." Hearing this often, he figured that good children should be filial to their parents—but as for how, he had no idea.
He "uh"-ed for a long time without answering. Fang Zichen watched his little face scrunch up, nearly turning into a tiny old man, and laughed.
Finally, Guaizai said, "When Guaizai has money in the future, I’ll buy Father yummy food too. When Father gets old and can’t move in bed, Guaizai won’t kick Father out. Guaizai will serve you, bring you food and help you pee, feed you meals, bathe you, and when you die, Guaizai will even smash the mourning bowl, carry your coffin, and burn paper money for you during festivals."
[In traditional Chinese funeral customs, the eldest son (or a close family member) smashes a ceramic bowl on the ground during the procession to symbolize the breaking of ties with the deceased and the release of their spirit.]
Fang Zichen: "......"
Fang Zichen couldn’t laugh anymore.
Thanks a lot, kid.
He thought.
"Father," Guaizai said, "Liuliu ate meat buns too. He wanted to come wait for you with me, but Uncle Zhou’s family is super busy, so I came alone. He asked me to say thank you for him."
"Mm," Fang Zichen said, holding his hand as they walked home. "You’re both polite, good kids. Is your daddy home yet, or is he still helping Grandma Liu?"
"Daddy is already home. He said he’s making food for Father."
"Your daddy is really virtuous," Fang Zichen said.
Some of the vegetables in the yard were ready to eat. Zhao Ger stir-fried a plate of greens and a plate of sour long beans.
Pickled long beans were easy to make—just chop them, seal them in a jar, and let them ferment. In the summer heat, they’d be ready in three or four days.
They weren’t too sour yet, so they could be scooped out, stir-fried directly with chopped chili peppers—sour and spicy, perfect for whetting the appetite.
The congee had been cooked at noon and was now cool. Fang Zichen scooped a few spoonfuls of the pickled long beans into his bowl, mixed it in, and slurped down a whole bowl in a few bites.
Guaizai imitated him, asking Zhao Ger to do the same for him.
His eating habits and some preferences were very similar to Fang Zichen’s.
Guaizai wasn’t very good with chopsticks yet, so Fang Zichen had bought him a small wooden spoon. Now he ate happily on his own—though it was a bit pitiful, since he had to stand for every meal.
The corn in the fields would be ready for harvest in another month. Right now, the fields were full of rats. If the weeds were cleared well, there’d be fewer rats.
Uncle Liu had injured his leg and couldn’t even get out of bed, so there was no hope of him working in the fields.
With weeding and selling vegetables, Aunt Liu and Zhou Ger were overwhelmed.
After finishing chores at home, Zhao Ger would take Guaizai to help them.
On the way, he kept running into Ma Wen.
The man still refused to give up, stopping Zhao Ger every time to talk.
After a few encounters, more and more people noticed.
Gossip instantly spread through the village.
"Did Zhao Ger and Ma Wen get back together?"
"Are you blind? Look at Zhao Ger’s face, I’d say Ma Wen is the one pestering him."
"I think so too. Ma Wen used to swear he’d only marry Zhao Ger, everyone knows that! But with his family being what it is, Zhao Ger would have to be stupid to go back to him."
"Pah, listen to you all. He’s just a ger, Ma Wen is decent-looking, has a job, and isn’t good enough for Zhao Ger?"
"Exactly! What’s so great about a ger? Not fully male, not female—not as strong as men, can’t bear as many children as women. They’re just stiff and awkward. If Ma Wen likes him, it’s a blessing Zhao Ger earned over eight lifetimes!"
"You’re just jealous! Everyone knows you want to marry your daughter to Ma Wen! Too bad...he’d rather have a ger than your daughter."
"Zhao Ger isn’t any good either. He’s already with Fang Zichen, yet he doesn’t avoid other men, always wandering around outside. Really shameless."
"Fang Zichen is dirt-poor. I heard he used to carry sacks at the docks for some money, but now there’s no work there. He still goes to town every day, but I never see him cutting firewood to sell. His face is pale and soft—clearly never worked a day in his life. Probably just a lazy bum. Zhao Ger might not get beaten or scolded with him, but with no money or food, I bet he regrets it now. Maybe he’s trying to hook up with Ma Wen again."
"Didn’t someone say they saw them pulling and tugging by the river? If they’re like that in public, who knows if they’ve already slept together in secret!"
"Hey, now that you mention it, that might be true. I bet before long, Fang Zichen will be a cheap father again!"
Laughing and chatting, the villagers speculated endlessly.
Fang Zichen left early and returned late, barely interacting with the villagers, so he hadn’t heard about this.
At noon that day, just as he was resting, a coworker came over. "Brother Fang, someone’s looking for you outside."
All the workers at the restaurant, young and old, called him "Brother Fang," respecting his skills.
Fang Zichen set down his book. "Who is it?"
"Don’t know."
Fang Zichen went out and saw it was He Xi.
Only Aunt Liu’s family and the village chief’s family knew he worked at Zuixiao Restaurant. Zhao Ger had told Aunt Liu’s family.
The village chief’s family knew because He Xi had mentioned it.
Half a month ago, when Fang Zichen was on his way to work, he happened to run into He Xi selling firewood in town and hitched a ride on his ox cart. As the cart rocked along, He Xi had asked casually, and Fang Zichen had answered truthfully.
It was sweltering at noon, so Fang Zichen invited him inside for some water. He Xi hesitated, saying, "No need."
Fang Zichen didn’t insist. He went in, poured a bowl of water, and brought it out to him. "What brings you here?"
He Xi took a sip. "My mother sent me. Have you heard the rumors in the village about Ma Wen and Zhao Ger?"
"Ma Wen? Zhao Ger’s ex-husband?" Fang Zichen frowned, just hearing the surname "Ma" told him this family was probably causing trouble again.
Sure enough, He Xi relayed the gossip about Ma Wen.
The affair between Zhao Ger and Ma Wen was spreading like wildfire. Wang Damei, seeing that neither Zhao Ger nor Fang Zichen seemed aware, decided to warn them first.
Gossip should be stopped before it got worse. If it kept spreading, who knew what outrageous stories would emerge? It would only harm Zhao Ger’s reputation.
Fang Zichen said calmly, "I see. Thanks for making the trip."
"No trouble, I was passing by anyway." He Xi scratched his head, puzzled. "Aren’t you angry?"
If his wife were being harassed and gossiped about like this, whether true or not, he’d be furious.
Fang Zichen smiled. "Let them talk. Their mouths are on their faces, it won’t make me lose flesh or feel pain. Why get angry?"
That’s what he said, but He Xi felt his smile was a bit unsettling, as if he were gritting his teeth.
He usually finished work at six, but today Fang Zichen took two hours of early leave.
Ever since returning from meeting someone at noon, his expression had been dark. Shopkeeper Yang couldn’t resist asking, "What’s wrong? Trouble at home?"
Fang Zichen packed his things. "Yeah. Someone’s trying to dig under my wall while my back is turned."
[Digging under someone's wall is a chinese idiom meaning to undermine someone's foundation, sabotage their efforts, or poach their key people (like employees, partners, or supporters) to weaken them]
"Eh? Who? That’s too much!" Shopkeeper Yang was indignant. "If a house collapses, people die! What kind of heartless bastard would do that?"
Fang Zichen: "......"
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