Zhao Ger said: "He went to the prefectural city a few days ago to take the prefectural exam. He's not here."
"Ah!" The older woman was somewhat surprised. "He's a scholar! But scholars are often aloof. They only understand their books and classical allusions all day. They don't understand half a bit of housework." The area around them was bustling with people coming and going. The older woman leaned closer and said: "Are you supporting his studies?"
Zhao Ger shook his head: "No."
Although he had earned some money selling chili sauce, Fang Zichen wasn't lacking. Although he was a 'scholar', from the time he decided to take the imperial exams until now, so many months, he had only bought two books. He didn't need to practice his characters either. It simply didn't cost much money. He also had his own wages. Every month when he was paid, he came back and honestly handed it all over to him. Last time he asked for six taels of silver, it wasn't for himself to spend.
To say he was supporting him really didn't apply.
Zhao Ger had no intention to explain. His own family affairs only needed to be understood by his own family. One knew one's own situation best.
He was vague, but the older woman just thought he was being stubborn. She said: "Don't think my words sound unpleasant. Let me tell you, those who are fickle and lacking in righteousness are often scholars. You're supporting his studies now, working yourself to death, exposed to wind and sun, while he stays indoors, untouched by wind or rain. When you're old and ugly, and he passes the exams, do you think he'll still regard you well? Over on East Street, the Huang family's daughter-in-law, she's similar to you. She washed clothes for people every day, earning silver to support her husband's studies. And the result? A couple of years ago, her husband passed the Tongsheng exam and immediately started criticizing her for being illiterate and not knowing propriety. I heard she was later divorced."
Zhao Ger's eyelashes trembled. "...My husband is not that kind of person!"
"It's easy to know a person's face, but hard to know their heart! He needs you now, so of course he won't find you lacking. Who can say for sure about the future? Men, most of them appreciate beauty." The older woman said: "I've noticed a certain young master often came to find you before. Does he have an interest in you?"
Zhao Ger's brow furrowed tightly, his expression instantly turning displeased. "Auntie, you've misunderstood."
Zhang Huaiwen had indeed been coming to West Street recently to find him. Each time he bought chili sauce, he wouldn't leave immediately but would always stay and talk with him for a while.
Zhang Huaiwen was refined, amiable, and treated people kindly. When conversing with Zhao Ger, his words and demeanor were entirely natural and gracious. He was also candid and had even apologized for his rudeness during their first meeting.
If he hadn't brought it up, Zhao Ger would have almost forgotten about it. He didn't think much of it. Over time, Zhao Ger simply considered him a friend. He never expected it would lead to misunderstandings.
The older woman laughed: "I think he seems to have an interest in you!"
Zhao Ger: "That's not the case at all."
"You're young, you don't understand. Auntie here has been through it, I can tell at a glance. The way he looks at you isn't right." The older woman said: "Although the old saying goes, 'Better to destroy ten temples than to break up one marriage,' but he seems to be from a wealthy family. If he fancies you, you should plan for yourself early. There's no need to hold onto a poor scholar...... Aiyo......"
Guaizai was holding a small wooden stick, his big eyes wide open, glaring at her fiercely.
The older woman clutched her arm: "Guaizai, why are you hitting people!"
"You are a bad egg, a baka (fool)." Guaizai said, raising his head.
"Zhao Ger, look at this......"
Zhao Ger frowned: "Auntie, customers are coming. I need to attend to business. Let's not chat today."
"Oh! Alright then!" Several people were heading straight for the stall. The older woman couldn't delay their business. "Then, think about what I just said. Auntie means well for you, you...... Aiyo, stop hitting......"
Guaizai chased the older woman, hitting her with the stick until she ran far away. Only then did Guaizai drag his stick back.
Zhao Ger attended to the customers, sold a few more jars of chili sauce, then patted Guaizai's head. He didn't scold him, just asked: "Why did you suddenly hit someone?"
He wasn't sure if Guaizai could understand.
Who knew Guaizai would say: "She is a bad egg. Father said, bad eggs deserve to be hit. If you hit a bad egg, you are a great hero."
Zhao Ger found it amusing: "You understood all that?"
"Daddy, don't look down on Guaizai." Guaizai pouted, touching his own head. "Father said Guaizai has a big head. A big head means very smart."
Zhao Ger: "......" And you believe him when he's teasing you!
However, this incident served as a reminder to Zhao Ger. He didn't pay much attention to it at the time, but in his later years, recalling the days of his youth and remembering Zhang Huaiwen, he would only feel regret.
In the afternoon, when they arrived home, Zhao Ger took out the roast duck.
The roast duck's skin was crispy and golden brown, the meat fragrant and tender. It was best right out of the oven, but even now it wasn't bad.
Guaizai drooled. Zhao Ger picked up a duck leg for him: "Eat!"
Guaizai laughed when he got food: "Thank you, Daddy." He took a bite, then his eyes lit up. He jumped down from the small stool, ran to Zhao Ger's side, and held the duck leg out to him: "Daddy, it's tasty. Daddy eat too."
In the past, when there wasn't enough food and they were always hungry, Zhao Ger often shared food with him.
Now, conditions were better. There was clearly a whole large plate on the table, but Guaizai, without realizing it, would always instinctively offer the things he found delicious to Zhao Ger.
Zhao Ger smiled, leaned over, and took a small bite: "Mmm, it really is delicious. You eat it. There's more on the table."
Guaizai pattered back to the other side of the table.
The roast duck's flavor was indeed quite good, very savory. Fang Zichen had said that day that if paired with the 'soul sauce', the taste would be even more exceptional.
When he had time, he should try making that sauce too.
Zhao Ger saw that Guaizai had finished gnawing on it and picked up another piece for him. Guaizai raised his greasy hand, seemingly counting something, then suddenly said while holding the duck leg: "Daddy, where is my little doggie?"
Zhao Ger asked: "The one your father pinched for you out of mud?"
Guaizai: "Mhm, that one."
"It's in the room," Zhao Ger said.
Guaizai said: "Really? Guaizai will go look."
He really liked the little dog pinched from mud. He held it every day. Since he wanted to go, Zhao Ger didn't stop him. After a moment, Guaizai came running back.
His hands were empty. Zhao Ger asked: "Where is the duck leg?"
Guaizai blinked, looking guilty as a thief, and said in a very small voice: "Guaizai finished it."
Zhao Ger was left speechless. Did this child truly believe he could be fooled so easily?
He asked, but Guaizai hemmed and hawed, unwilling to say. Zhao Ger stopped asking. It wasn't until evening when he was looking for clothes to bathe that he opened the chest and a smell of roast duck wafted out.
He rummaged a bit and found the duck leg at the very bottom, wrapped in Fang Zichen's round-necked short-sleeved T-shirt.
He'd hidden it quite deeply!
The clothing was white, and now it was stained with grease, a yellow-orange patch.
The style of this clothing was too unusual to be worn openly, yet Fang Zichen couldn't bring himself to discard it. He carefully stored the shirt, along with the matching pants and slippers, in a chest, preserving them as keepsakes—tangible reminders of a home he might never see again.
Zhao Ger had occasionally seen him staring at these items lost in thought, so he knew that these clothes were no longer just clothes to Fang Zichen.
He usually didn't dare touch them, but now they were stained.
Zhao Ger felt upset and perturbed.
He went to the kitchen, grabbed a stick, rushed to the backyard to catch the culprit, and asked him why he hid the duck leg in the chest. Guaizai, seeing the matter exposed so quickly, hung his head dejectedly: "Guaizai wanted to save it for Father. Roast duck is yummy, tasty. Daddy eats, Father eats, Guaizai eats."
Zhao Ger: "......"
He couldn't bring himself to hit him. Guaizai had dodged punishment once again.
Six days. Not long, but not short either. It passed almost in the blink of an eye.
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