Chapter 131
Zhao Ger didn't want to go and pretended not to hear, pressing himself close to Fang Zichen as he watched him pull things out.
Fang Zichen had bought a lot: food, clothes, toys. The largest and most eye-catching item was a small, wooden bicycle.
"What is this?" Zhao Ger asked curiously.
"A bicycle, for our son," Fang Zichen said.
He had wanted to have one made before, but the carpenter in town wasn't up to the task. He looked at the drawing for a long time, then asked Fang Zichen if he had a wife yet.
Fang Zichen was famously considered a 'golden bachelor' in Fu'an Town: no in-laws to serve, no younger siblings to support, an iron rice bowl job with three taels of silver a month—his conditions were truly excellent.
Fang Zichen glared at the man, took the drawing, and left.
It wasn't until he reached Yuanzhou that he found someone else to make it. The craftsman's skill was good, but when Fang Zichen went to collect the goods after the prefectural exam, the old man looked at him as if he were an idiot.
He probably thought Fang Zichen, being a scholar, had read too many books and become foolish. The contraption had two wheels and appeared to be for sitting, but the seat was tiny. If one sat on it, half their backside would be off the edge. The rider wouldn't even have time to push the pedals before they and the bike toppled over. How could anyone possibly ride such a thing?
Guaizai didn't have any toys, just a nine-linked rings puzzle that he played with over and over, never seeming to tire of it. Also, the village children's play was very limited.
What kind of boy plays in the mud every day? My son should play with something more manly, something more exciting.
He took out a light blue hair ribbon. Embroidered on it with gold thread were a few floating clouds, and at the ends hung two small round balls, dignified yet slightly playful. "This is for you."
Then he pulled out a set of light blue clothes. "This is also for you. It's winter clothing. The shop owner told me the cotton inside is from this year's new harvest and is very warm to wear. I don't know if it's true or not. See if you like it."
It felt as if his beating heart had been grabbed tightly, surviving in a crack, beating with difficulty. Yet with each beat, it felt more intense than any before, thump... thump, one after another, like thunder, even making her eardrums vibrate.
Zhao Ger didn't take it, just stared fixedly at Fang Zichen, the adoration in his eyes obvious. Fang Zichen felt a little embarrassed under his gaze.
"Hey, why are you staring at me like that? I know I'm handsome, but you're making me a bit shy! It's only been a few days apart... you... you need to restrain yourself a bit!"
Zhao Ger smiled and suddenly kissed him.
Fang Zichen's words didn't match his feelings, he told him to restrain himself, but after being kissed, he was still delighted. "Give me two more."
Zhao Ger kissed him on the other cheek.
The clothes were pressed into his arms. He gently stroked them, feeling an indescribable comfort in his heart.
Previously, when they went to buy fabric together, Fang Zichen had no experience and let him choose. He browsed in the shop for a while and picked two bolts of dark-colored fabric. Actually, he originally wanted to buy that light blue one, but the material looked so good, soft and shimmering, made of silk. It probably wasn't cheap, so he couldn't bring himself to buy it. While paying, he couldn't resist taking a few more glances. Fang Zichen hadn't said or asked anything at the time. It turned out he had noticed and remembered it all.
"Husband," Zhao Ger said softly, lowering his eyes. "You're so good!"
"Are you blind?" Fang Zichen was happy inside but put on a proud face. "Only realizing it now? Your man's goodness is consistent from start to finish."
Zhao Ger laughed. With Fang Zichen back, his heart felt settled, he had someone to rely on.
Fang Zichen turned his face and whispered a few sentences into his ear.
His face immediately turned bright red.
Seeing his expression, both troubled and embarrassed, Fang Zichen raised an eyebrow and laughed. Guaizai called out again from outside, seeming very anxious.
"Daddy, come quick, come help Guaizai! Come quick~"
Fang Zichen poked Zhao Ger. "Go on. After dinner, once I've put him to sleep, we'll have plenty of time."
Zhao Ger seemed unable to take it anymore and 'whooshed' as he stood up.
'A short separation is better than a new honeymoon; tonight will probably be like dry wood meeting fierce flames...' Those joking words from noon suddenly flashed through his mind.
He shot Fang Zichen a look that was both annoyed and shy. "Shameless."
Fang Zichen was stunned for a moment, watching Zhao Ger run out, completely baffled.
What did I do? How is that shameless?
Guaizai had a strip of cloth, like a towel, and was tightly clutching the little puppy in his arms.
"Daddy, help Guaizai. Guaizai wants to carry the little doggie."
When the village women were busy, if their children were small, they would carry them on their backs with a cloth strap. When they were older, they let them run wild in the village.
The puppy was still small, so naturally, it needed to be carried too.
Upon hearing this, Zhao Ger was speechless for a moment.
He had seen people carrying firewood, children, and pigweed on their backs, but never a dog. But since Guaizai asked, he complied, to avoid the child making a fuss.
The puppy lay sprawled on Guaizai's back, its limbs splayed out. Zhao Ger used the cloth strip to tie it securely in place.
Guaizai took a couple of trial steps. Seeing it didn't fall off, he smiled. "Thank you, Daddy."
He rushed into the kitchen and brought a bowl of water for Fang Zichen. "Father, drink water."
Fang Zichen's eyes widened seeing him and the little puppy tied together with the cloth strip.
"Why are you carrying it? Just put it on the ground."
"The doggie is still small, should not be left alone, it needs to be with someone," Guaizai said like a little adult.
Fang Zichen: "..."
After Fang Zichen finished drinking, Guaizai took the bowl to leave. The puppy suddenly let out a few whimpers. He stopped, tilted his head, shook it a couple of times, and gently patted the dog's bottom, coaxing, "Oh oh oh... don't cry oh~"
Fang Zichen: "..."
It seemed playing house too much had given him some after-effects.
Look at my son. Is this any way for a boy to be?
So virtuous and motherly, even the village women probably can't compare.
If he were a little ger, Fang Zichen would be overjoyed, laughing his head off. But he was a boy!
When I played house in kindergarten, I always took the role of the little prince. But my son?
He seems to be playing the part of the little maid.
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