Fang Zichen wasn't exactly stingy, but he was shocked. After all, they had eaten lunch together before at Zuixiao Restaurant, and Yang Mingyi only ever ate small half-bowls then.
Now he downed three full big bowls. Fang Zichen was a bit worried if he was perhaps experiencing some kind of 'final rally before death' or something.
He leaned closer, his face showing concern: "Yi Ger, you're not feeling unwell, are you?"
Yang Mingyi was baffled:"... No."
"Then you...Ouch! Zhao Ger, why did you step on me?"
"Go get a bowl from the cupboard," Zhao Ger said.
Fang Zichen's intentions were always easy to decipher. Even when he was trying to be caring, his words often came out wrong. The moment he opened his mouth, Zhao Ger had known exactly what he was going to ask.
A question like, 'Then why did you eat so much?' might have been fine if a fellow man heard it, but Yang Mingyi, being a young ger, would likely have been terribly embarrassed.
When it was time to see them off, Guaizai clung to Yang Mingyi's leg, his eyes brimming with tears as if this farewell was a permanent separation between this life and the next.
After Yang Mingyi had left, the boy sat on the doorstep, his little face fallen and his whole demeanor listless and dejected.
Seeing him sitting there all alone, Zhao Ger felt heartache. He sat down beside him, wanting to comfort him. Guaizai turned his head first and asked: "Daddy, did you think Guaizai looked very melancholy just now? Very cool?"
Zhao Ger: "..."
"Guaizai wants to be a melancholy brother! So that Yang Pig will love love Guaizai and won't be able to leave Guaizai."
[忧郁哥 (yōu yù gē): melancholy brother/brooding dude is a slang term used to refer to a man who consistently presents himself as deeply sad, moody, or trapped in a state of melancholy, often in an exaggerated or performative way online]
Zhao Ger stared for a moment, momentarily speechless. "What... what is a 'melancholy brother'?"
Guaizai explained patiently: "A melancholy brother is a super sang guy. He doesn't smile much, has tons of aura, and is just really, really cool!"
[丧 (sàng): lit. To lose, funeral; fig. In modern slang, describes someone or something feeling down, negative, or lacking energy.]
Zhao Ger: "..."
In the evening, after washing up and returning to the room, Zhao Ger opened the gifts Old Master Wu had given them together with Fang Zichen.
There were three small boxes and two large chests.
In one small box was a jade pendant, the color of yellow-green buds on tree tips. It was carved with two green bamboos and a line of small characters... Junzi Yazheng.
[君子雅正 (jūnzǐ yǎ zhèng): The nobleman is elegant and upright]
Another contained a hairpin, simple and elegant in style, without carvings of flowers or phoenixes, only a few bamboo leaves engraved on it, vivid and lifelike, complementing each other well, and it was the same color as the jade pendant.
"This one is probably for you," Fang Zichen said.
Zhao Ger clearly quite liked it, handling it fondly and unable to put it down. Together with the jade pendant, he held them under the candlelight to examine them carefully.
He rarely showed such an attitude and expression. Fang Zichen was somewhat taken aback.
Thinking carefully, it seemed he had never bought any jewelry for Zhao Ger. In his eyes, gers, while identical in appearance to men, were still ger after all. They probably enjoyed things like rouge, face powder, and other small adornments, just as women did.
Before, when the family had no money, it was somewhat excusable that he didn't buy any for Zhao Ger. But now that the family's situation had improved, he still hadn't thought of it. He was truly negligent.
He decided that the following month, after he received his salary, he would buy Zhao Ger another one.
Zhao Ger called him: "Husband, put it on for me."
Fang Zichen inserted it into the bun on top of his head. Zhao Ger reached up to touch it, glanced at Fang Zichen, lowered his eyes, and said shyly: "Husband, is it pretty?"
"It's pretty." Fang Zichen teased him: "The prettiest on the dung heap."
Zhao Ger laughed and kicked him.
The remaining small box was for Guaizai—another golden, shiny gold lock.
Of the two large chests, one contained several bolts of brocade fabric. Last time Fang Zichen went to the cloth shop with Zhao Ger, they had some there too, but only one bolt, and it was ridiculously expensive, as if inlaid with gold.
The young shop clerk, seeing his demeanor and posture resembled that of a young master from a wealthy family, enthusiastically promoted it to him, saying this fabric wasn't just soft and smooth to look at with great color, but the material was also excellent, imported from Chaozhou, and the patterns on it were embroidered by the best embroiderers from the capital. Wearing it, it was warm in winter and cool in summer.
Fang Zichen had seen plenty of good things. One look and he knew the material was high quality, but one bolt cost over a hundred taels. At that time, he had just started working at Zuixiao Restaurant, how could he afford it?
The clerk talked for a long time, but when he finally realized Fang Zichen had no intention of buying anything, his expression turned sour.
He muttered under his breath about having misjudged the customer. He had initially thought Fang Zichen was a young master from a wealthy family, but it turned out he was just a pauper. What a waste of his time.
Fang Zichen couldn't stand this kind of treatment. He immediately pointed at his own clothes and said: "That shoddy goods of yours, it's not that I can't afford it, it's that I look down on it. Do you know where these clothes of mine came from? Who made them? How much they're worth?"
The clerk looked him up and down: "How much?"
"If I tell you, I'm afraid I'll scare you to death." Fang Zichen pointed at the few clouds on his hem: "Do you know who embroidered these? What are embroiderers from the capital? I had the Seven Fairies from heaven personally embroider this for me. This one was embroidered by the Eldest Fairy, this one by the Second Fairy, this one by the Third Fairy."
Then he and Zhao Ger were thrown out.
Later, when he was investigating Sun Shangcheng, he found out this cloth shop was owned by Sun Shangcheng's father.
Good thing they were thrown out back then, otherwise, giving money to that scum would have made him die of resentment.
The fabric he couldn't afford before, now someone had given it to him, half a chest worth in one go.
What kind of extravagance was this?
Fang Zichen felt the excitement of opening a mystery box. The further he opened, the more expensive the things inside became. By the last chest, his eyes were gleaming with a golden light.
When he carried it in at noon, he had thought it was quite heavy. Although Old Master Wu was only a Juren, without any official post, having lived most of his life, his family assets should be quite substantial.
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