The Ma family did not treat him as human. They either beat or scolded him. The villagers' curses were harsh, crude and vulgar. They treated him like an animal.
This kind of life went on for a long time, day after day, year after year. Gradually, he began to force himself to get used to it, to force himself to accept it.
He thought, just consider it as atonement for his sins.
When the villagers saw him, they often shook their heads and said: "Committing a sin!"
[造孽 (zào niè): lit. to commit a sin; fig. What a tragedy! / You poor thing! People say this when seeing someone suffer greatly, implying their misfortune must be punishment for some past wrong.]
He didn't understand what sin he had committed. He clearly had never done a single bad thing, but since everyone said so, then it must be true.
Yet, even while comforting himself like this, he would still often wake up at night, curled up in the straw pile, feeling sad.
So sad that it made him feel suffocated, made him feel that in this world, no one loved him, cared about him, needed him, or cherished him.
He was dispensable. He was alone. All the children in the village had parents. No matter how bad the Ma family was, they were still one big family, lively and bustling, their world vast and wide. There were many people in the world, but only he was alone, just by himself.
He was like a leaf.
A leaf only had the tree, but the tree had many leaves.
No one, not a single person, would care about him.
Perhaps, if he died one day, died in this narrow, dark, damp woodshed, no one would find him until he started to rot.
Not necessarily. The Ma family needed him to work. If he didn't get up, the Ma family would surely discover him.
He still had to cook breakfast for the Ma family tomorrow, feed the pigs, sweep the yard, fetch water, weed, and chop firewood. He needed to sleep quickly, sleep quickly. If he slept, it would be better...
Fang Zichen was the first person who made him feel that he, too, was cherished.
He was like a ray of light, shining down from the dark clouds, dazzling and gentle.
People often call the beam of light that shines into the darkness 'salvation'.
Zhao Ger knew Ma Wen's intentions towards him, and he also knew Ma Wen's importance in Old Master Ma and Madam Ma's hearts. He wanted revenge on the Ma family, and he also thought about having Fang Zichen rescue him from the Ma family cage, so he complied.
But when the night passed, Fang Zichen left. He took his body, and without leaving a single word, he left.
That beam of light vanished. He still had to remain in the darkness.
During that brief night, he hadn't developed any feelings for Fang Zichen. He left, and Zhao Ger was only disappointed, not feeling particularly devastated.
But this time...
He had never felt so desperate before. Through days and nights of living together, amidst Fang Zichen's sweet words, he had entrusted both his heart and body to him.
Fang Zichen was bold and unrestrained, radiating a brilliance as intense as the midday sun. His cheerful nature was infectious, and when he spoke words of comfort, they carried a profound sincerity.
Though Zhao Ger's existence had been a still and lonely pond, the mere presence of Fang Zichen was enough to send gentle ripples stirring across its surface.
Zhao Ger liked him. He liked him so much that the moment he appeared, he simply couldn't look away.
His affection was undisguised, utterly sincere and genuine.
He had absorbed Fang Zichen into the very marrow of his bones, presumptuously considering him his one and only. For Fang Zichen to leave was no different from carving out his flesh and blood.
Was he truly so inadequate that he couldn't retain anyone by his side? Or had he completely misjudged Fang Zichen's character from the very beginning?
In the darkness, his overwhelmed emotions were infinitely magnified.
This half afternoon also felt as long as a century.
Pain and despair had submerged him several times.
He couldn't imagine how he would live without Fang Zichen.
The true punishment was not in the loss itself, but in the remembering.
He had never known sweetness before, so he never understood its taste, nor could he fully comprehend bitterness.
But having finally tasted that sweetness only to have it suddenly torn away, returning to his former existence felt like being cast into hell.
He kept thinking of Fang Zichen uncontrollably, over and over. In the end, he almost broke down.
Fang Zichen was truly gone.
Zhao Ger was unable to accept this fact for a long time.
In pain, he curled his body up, holding himself tightly, burying his face in the crook of his arms. Raindrops dripped, one by one, staining and soaking him.
Even the heavens seemed to frown upon him. The rain grew heavier and heavier, carrying a bone-piercing chill.
A torrent of water, thick with mud, stones, and dead leaves, cascaded down the slope and swirled around him, covering him in filth. He stared blankly, then stretched out his hand. The water flowed past, lingering briefly between his tightly clenched fingers before flowing away again.
He couldn't hold onto it.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold it.
An encounter could happen in a single moment, but letting go of someone would take an entire lifetime.
Fang Zichen... had truly become the very breath he could no longer catch, the life that was draining from him.
He whimpered mournfully. Guaizai knelt on both knees beside him, stretched out his thin arms to hold his head, buried his face in his neck, and pleaded: "Daddy, can we go home? Guaizai wants to go home. Guaizai wants to go back."
Zhao Ger held him and cried bitterly.
Now, he only had his son left.
Going round and round, in the end, he still only had his son.
The past six months felt like a dream. When the dream ended, he once again had nothing.
Sobbing, he climbed to his feet and said: "We... will go back."
Full of weariness, despair in his eyes, his frail body, with child in tow, he walked with unsteady steps, a lonely figure disappearing into the dark night.
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