The news that Fang Zichen had not only passed the imperial examination but achieved the top rank spread like wildfire, quickly reaching every household in Xiaohe Village.
Those who originally wanted to wait and see Fang Zichen fail directly shut their mouths.
Some people, however, were happy.
Fang Zichen was registered in Xiaohe Village, from now on, he was one of them. Even if they weren't relatives, being from the same village meant that if the village produced a Tongsheng or Xiucai, it would be a matter of great face—not looking at the hated face, but looking at the Buddha's face. In the future, if they went to town looking for work, people wouldn't dare to easily deceive or bully them.
[不看憎面看佛面 (bù kàn zēng miàn kàn fó miàn): lit. not looking at the hated face, but looking at the Buddha's face; fig. Even if you dislike someone, show respect for the sake of a respected mutual connection/for the greater good]
He really brought honor to their Xiaohe Village.
This was a joyous event for the village. Everyone, willing or not, now thought about going home to discuss with their families what would be good to give as a gift.
Ma Wen stood outside the crowd, his face ashen, fists tightly clenched. He was a perfect example of a tiger who descended to the plains only to be bullied by dogs—he had fallen from his previous status, was currently unemployed, and at home, both Li-shi and Sun-shi now regarded him with open contempt.
['虎落平阳被犬欺' (hǔ luò píng yáng bèi quǎn qī): lit. A tiger who descends to the plains is bullied by dogs; fig. A great man, once fallen from power, can be bullied by anyone.]
Old Man Ma and Old Lady Ma used to dote on him. When he returned from sailing, they would shower him with attention and concern. But now he was at home all day, not traveling for trade or leaving home. Furthermore, seeing someone too often bred annoyance. Furthermore, Ma Xiaoshun, being young and adept at sweet talk, had now become the primary object of Old Lady Ma's affection, surpassing Ma Wen entirely.
Eldest Aunt Ma, Li-shi, and Sun-shi argued every few days, a small quarrel daily, a big fight every three days. When angry, they hurled all kinds of foul language and even came to blows.
He attempted to break up the fights, but found himself in an impossible position. If he tried to restrain Li-shi, Sun-shi would immediately accuse him of taking sides. If he moved to hold back Sun-shi, Li-shi and the others were not ones to suffer in silence; they would turn their sharp tongues on him, sneering that a grown man like him possessed so little capability. They would mock him, saying it was no wonder he was over twenty and still unmarried, claiming that not even a lowly ger would be willing to have him.
The most promising person in the village had also changed from himself to Fang Zichen.
Falling from the clouds into the mud was just like this.
Ma Wen had never felt life so oppressive and vexing.
Ma Lao'er glanced at him: "Alright, let's go back."
"Uncle... I feel awful."
"I know."
Ma Wen hung his head, still immersed in jealousy and resentment, when a gloomy voice suddenly sounded by his ear, catching him off guard.
Ma Laosan had arrived at some point.
Seeing his enemy succeed, Ma Laosan was also displeased. Their families were enemies. The higher Fang Zichen climbed, the more fear he felt in his heart.
As if thinking of something, Ma Laosan suddenly laughed, patted Ma Wen's shoulder, and said: "Don't worry, he won't be proud for long."
Ma Wen looked up sharply: "What?"
"You don't need to understand,"Ma Laosan said.
____
After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, Zhao Ger saw the guests off. Once the pots, bowls, ladles, and basins were washed and the cleaning was done, the Liu family's bowls and chopsticks, now clean, were placed in a basket for Zhou Ger to take back.
He closed the courtyard gate. Turning back, he saw Fang Zichen still sitting on the doorstep holding Guaizai.
"Son," Fang Zichen hugged Guaizai, pressing his face against his, nuzzling, and asked: "Do you love your father?"
Guaizai hugged his neck: "I do, I do!"
"That's good!"Fang Zichen said: "Father loves you too. You must love Father. When Father is old and can't move, you can't just think about attending the funeral banquet and eating braised pork. Your father is strong and mighty now in his youth, and when he's old, he'll still be old but vigorous. Maybe he can still be saved. If you bury me alive, then I'll really become a great wronged soul."
Fang Zichen continued to ramble incessantly. Guaizai, snuggled affectionately against him, quickly fell into the rhythm of his chatter. Within moments, their exchange resembled a call-and-response duet—Fang Zichen would murmur "I love you," and Guaizai would chime in with his own earnest "I love you." The same three words passed back and forth between them in a tender, repetitive loop.
Zhao Ger watched for a long while and realized something was wrong. Fang Zichen was probably drunk.
Zhao Ger approached and tried to pull Fang Zichen to his feet, intending to tell him it was time to bathe and go to sleep. Fang Zichen lifted his head. The line of his neck was smooth, and his skin had a peach-blossom hue—pink with a delicate, luminous quality. His hair had grown considerably over the past few months. Tied back now, with his bangs parted seventy-thirty, it revealed more of his full forehead. His gaze was slightly unfocused, lacking its usual sharpness, which gave him a rather gentle and refined appearance. Dressed in a suit and glasses, he would have perfectly fit the image of a scumbag in fine clothing.
"What?" Fang Zichen shot him a glare. "Can't you see I'm having a heartfelt talk with my son? Don't be so impatient—you'll get your turn later."
"You're drunk," Zhao Ger insisted, tugging at his arm once more. "Come on, let's get you to the bath."
Fang Zichen didn't budge. "Who's drunk?"
"You are," Zhao Ger replied, his tone helpless.
Fang Zichen dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "What a joke. I only had a little. You think one bowl of wine can take me down? Impossible. Absolutely impossible!"
Zhao Ger could only stare, utterly speechless.
Guaizai chimed in: "Daddy, Father isn't drunk. He didn't hit anyone."
In Guaizai's experience, Ma Lao'er became violent when drunk. Therefore, the child's definition of drunkenness was simple: if someone hit others, they were drunk. Since Fang Zichen was neither hitting anyone nor slurring his words, Guaizai was convinced he wasn't drunk.
Fang Zichen gently pinched his son's cheek. "My son understands me. You really are my precious treasure."
Seeing that it was late and arguing with a drunk man was pointless, Zhao Ger tried a different approach. "You should still go and wash up."
"Alright then!" Fang Zichen conceded, rising to his feet. "Only because I love you. I'll do as you say."
Zhao Ger's cheeks flushed uncontrollably. "What nonsense are you saying?" After saying this, he pushed him towards the kitchen.
After Fang Zichen went inside to bathe, Zhao Ger put Guaizai to sleep and then waited in the courtyard.
Soon, he saw Fang Zichen walk over, his clothes open, revealing a large area of his lean, firm chest, carrying a basin of water.
"Would you like me to help you wash your hair?" Zhao Ger asked.
"No," Fang Zichen shook his head, setting the basin down. "This is for washing your feet."
Zhao Ger blinked in surprise. "Why are you fetching water for my feet all of a sudden?"
"To show you what a peerless good man I am,"Fang Zichen declared. He knelt before Zhao Ger, lifted one of his feet, and carefully removed the shoe and sock.
Zhao Ger laughed. "And then what?"
"Don't you feel incredibly happy?"
Zhao Ger answered with complete honesty, "Yes..."
He truly hadn't expected such a gesture. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly admire Fang Zichen more, the man always found a way to surpass his expectations, becoming even better than before.
"So," Fang Zichen asked, "which do you prefer? My cute side or my handsome side?"
Remembering their past banter, Zhao Ger lifted his bare foot and gently tapped Fang Zichen's knee with his toes.
A radiant smile spread across his face. "I like your 'goat madness epilepsy' style the most!"
Fang Zichen: "..."
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