The stench from the outhouse was overwhelming. Entering and exiting it was like being cured into smoked meat, the smell inside and out.
The mountains were teeming with mosquitoes and insects. The outhouse mosquitoes buzzed incessantly. A single trip to the outhouse, from entry to exit, felt like it could make one's buttocks gain two pounds from all the bites.
At first, Fang Zichen was a bit worried, afraid that using the outhouse would leave him anemic from the mosquitoes.
Now, having bathed and being clean, Fang Zichen wasn't too keen on going.
He looked at Zhao Ger: "Zhao Ger, your son wants to pee."
Zhao Ger didn't speak, just glanced at him lightly, walked slowly to the bed, took off his shoes, stepped over him, lay down on the inside, placed his hands on his lower abdomen, closed his eyes, and said: "I'm asleep!"
Fang Zichen: "..."
Fang Zichen was completely stunned.
What kind of move is this??
Falling asleep just like that?
So damn impressive?
You can't fool people like this!
He poked Zhao Ger: "Zhao Ger?"
Zhao Ger didn't move and didn't acknowledge him.
Fang Zichen poked him again: "Zhao Ger?" Zhao Ger was like a dead fish,completely motionless.
"Zhao Ger, darling, sweetheart, my good fulang, honey, answer me! Your son is about to wet his pants." Fang Zichen called out randomly, each term more nauseating than the last. Zhao Ger's face was red to the tips of his ears, but he still pretended not to hear.
You can never wake someone who is pretending to sleep. Fang Zichen was utterly speechless.
Guaizai couldn't hold it in anymore. Fang Zichen was really afraid he would wet the bed. Seeing that Zhao Ger really didn't intend to pay them any mind, Fang Zichen thought about letting Guaizai go by himself.
Guaizai shook his head. He was almost scared into peeing himself just now: "But Guaizai is afraid of ghosts! If a female ghost takes Guaizai away, father will have no son anymore, then father will be pitiful."
Fang Zichen even tried to trick his son. Right then, he said to Guaizai: "Son, no matter what difficulties we encounter, we must not be afraid. Face them with a smile. The best way to eliminate fear is to face fear head-on. Female ghosts, male ghosts, if they come, we'll beat them to death. Don't be afraid. Take the first step bravely. Our first step starts with the outhouse. Go for it, son! Father believes in you. Give it your all!"
He spoke with righteous fervor, sounding utterly convincing.
Children were the easiest to trick. Guaizai listened, his passion inflamed. Fang Zichen whispered a few more misleading phrases to coax him, and he burst into laughter, instantly feeling extraordinarily tough and capable. In that moment, he felt that even if a ghost were to appear, he could punch it with his small fist and shatter its spirit to pieces.
Guaizai stood up, rolled up his sleeves, like a little wolfdog, and howled: "Guaizai is a brave man. Brave men are not afraid of ghosts. I can do it!"
He scrambled off the bed, put on his shoes, clenched his fists, and ran outside with a patter of footsteps.
Fang Zichen saw him go out and rubbed his hands together, ready to teach Zhao Ger a lesson, when a sharp scream from Guaizai came from outside.
His heart sank. He sprang up like a carp, put on his shoes, and rushed outside.
Zhao Ger also got out of bed and followed closely behind.
However, he was a few steps slower.
Passing through the yard and going around the kitchen to reach the backyard, he saw Fang Zichen standing at the entrance to the outhouse, looking shocked.
Zhao Ger paused, sensing something was wrong: "What's wrong?"
Fang Zichen pointed inside the outhouse: "You, see for yourself."
He stepped aside. Zhao Ger entered the outhouse and his eyes widened.
Outside, the moon was bright and the stars sparse, casting a fairly bright light. Though it was still somewhat dim inside the outhouse, he could just make things out.
Guaizai was standing at the bottom of the pit, covered in filthy water, with a few small, not-yet-rotted wooden sticks usually used for wiping stuck in his hair. Tears welled in his wide eyes as he gazed pleadingly up at Zhao Ger, his voice trembling with desperation: "Daddy~ Save me!"
Zhao Ger instinctively looked at Fang Zichen. They shared a comically bewildered look for a few seconds before Fang Zichen managed to squeeze out a sentence with difficulty: "What do we do about this?"
He was speechless.
Having lived for over a decade and seen all sorts of storms and waves, this was the first time he was utterly stumped.
"...Fish him out!" Zhao Ger said.
It wasn't like they could just leave him there!
This outhouse, it must be said, had a bit of history.
It was dug when the village chief's father's father was still alive. The wooden plank near the door had been eaten by bugs and was hollow inside.
Fang Zichen and Zhao Ger had long strides and usually stepped directly on the second plank. Zhao Ger had told Guaizai before to be careful. But tonight, when going to the outhouse, his little head was full of thoughts: when he pulled down his pants, would a hand reach out from the pitch-dark pit to poke his little butt? If he punched it, would he turn the ghost into a dead ghost? He was a brave little man, not afraid of ghosts at all.
Guaizai's brain wasn't very big to begin with. Preoccupied with these thoughts, he forgot Zhao Ger's earlier warning. He stepped on the plank, it broke, and he fell straight into the pit.
Now fished out, he was filthy, like he had just climbed out of black mud.
Fortunately, the waste had dissolved—otherwise, if it were still clinging to him, it would truly be a sight too awful to behold.
Fang Zichen stared at him for a while, his temple throbbing.
This son, can he still be kept?
His sweet-smelling son has turned completely stinky.
Should I pour boiling water over him to disinfect him?
But if I scald him with boiling water, this son probably really can't be kept!
After all... he's my only son!
Guaizai stood pitifully in the yard, his wet clothes clinging to his thin, small frame.
Just as Zhao Ger was about to go into the kitchen to heat water, he saw Fang Zichen cover his mouth, run to the side, lean against the wall, and vomit noisily.
He fell silent, saying nothing.
Somehow, Guaizai had been very strong before, holding back his tears. But upon seeing Fang Zichen vomit, tears fell from his eyes, and he began to sob quietly.
In these times, there was no chemical fertilizer. To fertilize the land, they used the waste water from the outhouse pit.
But with just a few or dozen mu of land per family, that little bit of waste water was nowhere near enough.
So it was usually used to water the vegetables. When villagers went up the mountain to gather firewood and needed to urinate, if home was too far to run back, they would try their best to run to their own field to do it.
The village chief's family had an ox. When it was let out to graze and defecated, they would still pick it up and bring it back!
They were poor! There was simply no other way. They saved every single needle, every length of thread, every minuscule bit they could. If something didn't absolutely need to be used, it wasn't. If it could be saved, it was.
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