There weren't many women and fulangs washing clothes by the river in the morning. At this hour, they were mostly at home cleaning, tending to poultry, or cooking for tjwir husbands who would soon return from working in the fields—too busy to manage everything.
They would only take clothes to wash after finishing the midday meal.
However, in households with many sisters-in-law or numerous siblings, chores were divided up. If someone else handled the urgent tasks, the clothes would be washed earlier.
After all, it got hot and sunny at noon, so if they could wash earlier, they did.
When those women and fulangs saw Fang Zichen carrying a washbasin and leading a group of children toward the river, their jaws nearly dropped.
This...
This man washes clothes too?
This was truly the first time they had seen such a thing!
Which man in the village would do this?
When they were young, their parents washed their clothes. After marriage, their wives or fulangs washed them. In old age, their daughters-in-law washed them.
They had never washed clothes themselves.
Even when the women and fulangs were utterly swamped, the men in their households never helped with washing.
They'd say things like, "Washing dishes and clothes are tasks for you women and fulangs. Just look around the whole village—is there any man willing to wash clothes, or even know how to?"
Over time, the women and fulangs also came to believe these were their duties.
But now, seeing Fang Zichen coming to wash clothes, they felt that maybe it wasn't so clear-cut after all.
A few of them greeted Fang Zichen.
Fang Zichen remembered them—they were among those who had brought gifts to his door yesterday afternoon.
The gifts from the villagers were simple: from the poorer families, a handful of dried vegetables; from those slightly better off, some eggs, a piece of cured meat, or some pastries.
Many people had brought gifts, and the items were relatively valuable. Fang Zichen felt embarrassed to accept them—after all, he hadn't even passed the tongsheng exam yet! Why all this fuss? But the village chief explained it was a local custom. Fang Zichen personally didn't consider it a major event worth celebrating, but the villagers viewed it entirely differently. To them, this was even more significant than a festive occasion, and they gave their gifts willingly. It was rare for the village to produce a promising scholar, and everyone wanted to share in the auspiciousness.
[Fang Zichen hasn't yet obtained the Tongsheng title because while he passed the initial county exam, he still needs to pass the subsequent prefectural exam to officially earn the designation.]
The village chief advised him to accept the gifts, explaining that refusing would be perceived as looking down on everyone.
Fang Zichen acknowledged this. After letting the children play nearby, he turned and struck up a conversation with the women and fulangs.
He had a silver tongue, casually addressing them as 'sister,' 'brother,' and 'aunty' while lavishing them with praise.
Seeing that he hadn't put on any airs despite his recent success in the exam, the women and fulangs were delighted. Their initial reserve quickly melted away.
"Young Fang, you know how to wash clothes too?"
Fang Zichen: "..."
However, his covert observation had proceeded smoothly. After watching for just a short while, the process appeared quite simple—it merely involved some pounding, beating, and vigorous scrubbing.
"Of course!" he said without blushing or his heart racing. "I've washed them a few times before."
"Oh my," someone asked. "Didn't your mother help you wash them before?"
"No, she didn't. We always do our own tasks ourselves," Fang Zichen said.
"Do all the men where you're from know how to wash clothes?"
"Yes!" Fang Zichen said. "It's different there compared to here."
"How is it different?"
Fang Zichen then explained.
The women were astonished to learn that in Fang Zichen's hometown, men not only washed dishes, mopped floors, and managed household chores, but also attended to their wives' needs. If a wife said "east," her husband would not dare go west. Furthermore, husbands who hit their wives could even end up in jail.
They couldn't imagine it.
If it really is like that, then... how happy must the women there be?
For the married women and fulangs, their husbands were their entire world. Their unions had been arranged through parental orders and matchmakers' words—some had not even laid eyes on their husbands before the wedding day.
If fortunate enough to wed a decent man, life remained bearable. But those who ended up with the wrong partner and suffered beatings had nowhere to turn for solace. They could only resign themselves to their misfortune and endure their predetermined fate.
Since Fang Zichen hailed from the same place, they presumed he must share these same qualities.
Now, as they looked at him, their expressions transformed, regarding him as fragrant steamed bun.
[香馍馍 (xiāng mó mo): lit. fragrant steamed bun; fig. a coveted person or object, someone highly desirable]
As for Zhao Ger, they felt both envy and jealousy. When he was with the Ma family, everyone pitied him. After he started following Fang Zichen, people still pitied him.
Because at that time, Fang Zichen could be described as utterly destitute—he had nothing. The villagers were poor, but even without silver, they at least had a house for shelter and a few meager fields. Fang Zichen truly had nothing but his good looks.
Long accustomed to poverty, where having enough to eat or a warm place to sleep was never guaranteed, everyone held practical concerns above all else. Nothing mattered more than filling one's stomach.
It was only after Fang Zichen confronted Liu Laizi at his home that the villagers' pity for Zhao Ger diminished slightly.
But only very slightly.
Even though the man was good, having enough to eat was still more important.
Then, when they learned Fang Zichen had gotten a job at Zuixiao Restaurant earning three taels of silver a month, they were momentarily speechless.
And now, this man had not only taken the imperial exams and was establishing himself, but he was even helping Zhao Ger wash clothes.
In their eyes, Zhao Ger no longer appeared the slightest bit pitiable at that moment.
When the clothes were thoroughly soaked, Fang Zichen simply beat them several times against the stone slab, rinsed them again in the river, and wrung them dry—that completed the task.
Fang Zichen picked up the washbasin and was about to call the children to return when he noticed them playing with mud in the shallow ditch.
It wasn't without reason that Liu Dali had lost to Ma Xiaoshun back then. Just look at his mud-playing skills—it was truly hard to watch.
Liu Dali had been playing with mud for nearly two years without any improvement, and his motley crew of followers were even worse.
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