Chapter 62
Fang Zichen was in a dilemma. He had work to do in the afternoon, and Guaizai had just fallen asleep, snoring soundly. He couldn’t bear to wake him up. Zhao Ger was carrying heavy items, and in the scorching midday heat, making him carry the child for half an hour would surely exhaust him.
Yang Mingyi set down his brush and said, "Brother Fang, let him sleep. I’m not going back today—I can keep an eye on him for you."
"Then I’ll trouble you."
No beard on the lips, unreliable in work—Yang Mingyi was still young, so Fang Zichen hurried to the door but then stopped, turning back uneasily. "Yi Ger, I’ve only got this one son in my whole life, you have to watch him carefully! Don’t let him get lost."
[嘴上沒毛，辦事不牢 (zuǐ shàng méi máo, bànshì bù láo): lit. No beard on the lips, unreliable in work; fig. Young people lack experience and can't be trusted
Yang Mingyi: "..." Whole life?!
Shopkeeper Yang’s eyelid twitched, itching to kick him. "He’s inside the restaurant—where could he possibly get lost?"
The moment Zhao Ger stepped inside, all eyes turned to him. The last time he visited, the others hadn’t known his identity, so they paid no attention. But now that they knew, and the very person they’d been curious about that morning was right there in front of them, they couldn’t help but stare.
Seeing him was a profit in itself.
The gazes were like wolves and tigers, making Zhao Ger feel as if he were sitting on pins and needles. He took a few sips of tea but couldn’t even taste it.
The sound of hurried footsteps came from the staircase. Fang Zichen rushed over with a grin. "Zhao Ger, you’re here! Are you tired?"
Just his presence eased Zhao Ger’s nerves. "Not tired."
Fang Zichen didn’t believe him, pulling him toward the counter. "Liar. Look, you’re sweating."
Zhao Ger smiled but didn’t reply.
The sweat had only appeared after entering the restaurant.
Fang Zichen found him a stool to sit on. "Did you buy everything you needed?"
Zhao Ger: "Mm. Where’s Guaizai?"
"Upstairs, sleeping," Fang Zichen said.
Zhao Ger glanced outside. It was past noon, and the sun was blazing—just looking at it made one feel its scorching heat. But he still had work to do at home and couldn’t wait. "Go carry him down. I should head back."
"Let him sleep. You go ahead."
"But you’ll be busy this afternoon. What if he wakes up?" Zhao Ger was worried.
Guaizai was still young. No matter how well-behaved he was, he shouldn’t be left alone. This was the town, where all sorts of people mingled—not like the village, where kids could be fed and then sent out to play like wild monkeys, free to roam, play in the mud, or climb trees.
Sweat beaded on his temples. Fang Zichen wiped it away, then poked his cheek. "The young master is here. He said he’d watch him for me. Don’t worry. Are you hungry? Have you eaten?"
"...I had blood sausage." People were still staring from a distance. Zhao Ger swatted his hand away, avoiding his gaze and staring at his toes instead. "If you have something to say, just say it. Why must you touch me? We’re outside."
"If I can’t touch you outside, does that mean I can at home?" Fang Zichen curled his index finger against his lips, muffling a laugh.
The counter faced the entrance, brightly lit. His skin, already jade-like, seemed to glow under the light. His eyes were warm, his legs long, his youth and handsomeness undeniable. And when he smirked like that, the very air around him seemed thick with pheromones.
Zhao Ger couldn’t stand it when he acted like this. He punched Fang Zichen’s chest. "Behave! We’re in the restaurant! Who are you trying to seduce like this?"
Fang Zichen caught his hand, kissed it, and just kept smiling without a word.
Zhao Ger’s face turned red.
At home was one thing, but they were outside now! Though they were seated behind the counter, hidden from direct view, the sides were open. Anyone who turned their head even slightly would see.
Luckily, there weren’t many customers at the moment. But Zhao Ger was both nervous and exhilarated, a cold sweat breaking out on his back.
Wang Xiaoji and the others watched from a distance, their expressions indescribable.
Sun Dahu’s face was slightly red as he gulped down half a bowl of water. "For a moment there… I actually thought… thought Brother Fang was quite… quite…"
He didn’t finish, but the men understood. One of the clerks sighed. "Zhao Ger’s life is really hard."
The others immediately turned to him, eyes sharp.
The man spoke gravely. "Brother Fang has the kind of face that makes your heart race. If my husband looked like that, I wouldn’t dare let him out—I’d have to guard him day and night. I’d probably work myself to death. Though, if my husband did look like Brother Fang, working hard might not be so bad."
Wang Xiaoji rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten you’re a man?"
"Ugh, you’re so annoying. Why remind me?"
His affected tone sent shivers down the clerks’ spines. They rubbed their arms, laughing and joking—until a chilling voice came from behind.
"Should I not remind you and let you keep dreaming?"
"Sh-Shopkeeper Yang!"
Shopkeeper Yang commanded respect in the shop. "Have you wiped all the tables?"
"We’ve wiped them all," one waiter said.
These men had worked at Zuixiao Restaurant for years and were diligent. Slacking off when there were no customers wasn’t a big deal. Shopkeeper Yang wasn’t that strict. He just asked, "What were you talking about?"
He’d only caught snippets.
Wang Xiaoji grinned. "We were comforting Dahu! Right, guys?"
The others quickly played along. "Yeah, yeah."
Shopkeeper Yang saw right through them but played along. "What’s wrong with Dahu?"
Betrayal came swiftly. Under Shopkeeper Yang’s stare, Sun Dahu’s hair stood on end.
He couldn’t answer—because he didn’t even know what was wrong with him that required comfort.
Wang Xiaoji, ever the instigator, said mournfully, "Uncle Yang, Dahu’s wife cheated on him."
This had happened ages ago. Sun Dahu’s ex-wife had already had a third child with her lover. The waiters all knew, but Shopkeeper Yang was too busy for gossip.
Hearing it for the first time, he was stunned. Wang Xiaoji nudged Sun Dahu under the table. Sun Dahu snapped back to reality, covering his face in exaggerated grief.
Shopkeeper Yang patted his shoulder, at a loss for words. "Poor boy."
After teasing Zhao Ger a little, Fang Zichen earned a glare—almond eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and anger, stoking the fire in his chest. But Zhao Ger wouldn’t let him touch him: Damn this infuriating little vixen.
Zhao Ger fled in defeat. Fang Zichen, in high spirits, walked over and asked casually, "What’s wrong?"
Shopkeeper Yang sighed but didn’t answer. Wang Xiaoji reopened Sun Dahu’s wounds. "Dahu got cuckolded."
"..." Fang Zichen: "Really?"
"Of course! I wouldn’t joke about something like this," Wang Xiaoji said.
Fang Zichen blinked, studying Sun Dahu. Instead of comforting him, he stated matter-of-factly, "Getting cuckolded means one of two things: either your wife was promiscuous and couldn’t resist temptation, or you had a problem."
If she was promiscuous, she’d cheat no matter how good her husband was.
But if the husband was the problem—abusive, incompetent, or lacking in certain areas—then her infidelity was understandable.
No man could tolerate having his prowess questioned. Sun Dahu immediately said, "I think I’m pretty… vigorous."
Fang Zichen asked, "Then was your wife promiscuous?"
Sun Dahu thought of his ex-wife and shook his head, refusing to slander her. "Not really."
"That can’t be," Fang Zichen said firmly. "One of you had to be the problem."
Sun Dahu insisted, "It couldn’t have been me."
"Why not?" Fang Zichen gave him a sidelong glance. "Let me ask you this—if you looked like me, would your wife have cheated?"
Sun Dahu: "...Probably not."
"No ‘probably.’ She wouldn’t have." Fang Zichen was brimming with confidence. He knew exactly that he was—tall, rich, and handsome. Those three words fit him perfectly. He patted Sun Dahu’s shoulder solemnly.
"Brother, you’ve got to step up. Otherwise, the first green hat won’t be the last."
[綠帽 (lǜ mào): lit. "Green hat"; fig. Symbol of being cuckolded (a wife's infidelity)]
Sun Dahu: "..."
Every word was logical. He had no rebuttal.
Shopkeeper Yang barely held back his laughter. It was a struggle.
____
In the afternoon, the restaurant grew busy. Fang Zichen went upstairs to check—Yang Mingyi was reviewing what he’d taught, and Guaizai was still fast asleep. The child sweated easily when warm, but his forehead was dry now, likely wiped by Yang Mingyi.
Yang Mingyi had some foundation; he just needed to adjust to Arabic numerals. Fang Zichen had tested him and moved straight to double-digit addition and subtraction.
A top student had his own learning system and knew how to improve efficiency. To reinforce his memory, Fang Zichen had assigned him piles of problems.
Yang Mingyi was on the verge of tearing his hair out.
Around shenshi (3-5 PM), Guaizai woke up. The unfamiliar room left him disoriented, as if he’d blacked out from drinking. He called out tearfully, "Daddy? Father?"
Though he adored Fang Zichen, when scared, his first instinct was still to seek the one who’d been with him longest—Zhao Ger.
Yang Mingyi was at a loss. "What’s wrong?"
Guaizai realized where he was. The tears in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a grin. "Yang Pig!"
Yang Mingyi: "..."
He had to admire the kid’s resilience. Sitting beside him, he asked, "What’s the matter?"
Guaizai seemed shy. "Tummy full. Guaizai need pee-pee."
Yang Mingyi took him to the backyard. In the outhouse, he reached to help Guaizai with his pants, but the boy remembered Fang Zichen’s words and clutched the waistband. "Guaizai do self!"
Yang Mingyi nodded. Back home, his younger cousin’s wet nurse would wait outside the outhouse, so he stayed put.
Guaizai was about to wet himself but still managed to warn, "Yang Pig, no peek Guaizai’s lil’ butt and pee-pee, ah!"
Yang Mingyi: "..."
Guaizai added, "Father say see man pee-pee is bad, get needle-eye! Worse, go blind! Blind no see father and daddy, sooo pitiful."
Yang Mingyi: "..."
After Guaizai finished, Yang Mingyi carried him back upstairs. Passing the main hall, Guaizai pointed at Fang Zichen and giggled. "Father!"
"Brother Fang is busy," Yang Mingyi said, heading up. "Come with me."
"Mm! Guaizai knows—no bother father make big money!" Guaizai kept staring at Fang Zichen until they reached the second floor. Then he turned to Yang Mingyi. "Father work look so handsome, the best!"
Yang Mingyi: "..."
At this rate, Guaizai was going to exhaust his lifetime supply of speechlessness.
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