Chapter 182
Fang Zichen chuckled, and without much effort he pulled off his clothes. easily ripped off his clothes. Seeing Xiao Feng's neck and above were flushed red as if about to drop blood, he lightly patted his bottom.
Xiao Feng's body instantly tensed up. His toes curled, and he held his breath. He tried to shrink back, but Fang Zichen held him firmly in place. Tears welled up in his eyes. He raised his left arm to cover them, as if too ashamed to face anyone, utterly crestfallen. He seemed to believe that if he couldn't see Fang Zichen, then Fang Zichen couldn't see him either.
He was like a fish on the cutting board—motionless, flushed all over, letting Fang Zichen handle him as he pleased.
After wringing out the towel, Fang Zichen dragged it from the base of his thighs all the way down to his ankles, as if mopping the floor.
"Wash, scrub, wash, scrub, wash, scrub, ooh~"
Xiao Feng: "......"
"Don't tense up so much, and don't be nervous. Your brother's service skills are first-rate."
Xiao Feng stayed silent, only feeling his face burn fiercely, the blood rushing straight to the top of his head, as if he were about to steam.
Seeing that he hardly dared to breathe, Fang Zichen comforted him: "No need to be shy! We're both men—what are you afraid of? What you have, I have too, and mine's even bigger than yours! But..." He furrowed his brow, his gaze sharp and puzzled: "You're eight years old this year, right? Why is your little birdie so small? Is it underdeveloped?"
Xiao Feng's little bird was so small, just like a dried lentil, no different from Guaizai's.
Xiao Feng let out a sob and began to cry outright.
These words, while not particularly damaging to a man, carried an intensely insulting weight. Fang Zichen was startled: "Oh dear, don't cry, don't cry. You're not even fully recovered from your illness yet."
The more he tried to comfort him, the harder Xiao Feng cried.
Zhao Ger, hearing the commotion, asked from outside the door what was going on. Fang Zichen panicked for a moment, gritted his teeth, leaned close to Xiao Feng, and whispered, "Stop crying, alright? When we get back, I'll give you the ox p*nis to eat, okay? Eat that and it'll grow big. Please don't cry. If you keep crying, your Uncle Zhao is going to hit me again later."
Zhao Ger was knocking on the door outside. Xiao Feng sobbed, "N-no... don't want ox... ox p*nis."
Fang Zichen was actually glad he didn't want it.
Due to the traditions of farming and weaving, oxen, as important agricultural tools, were not allowed to be slaughtered arbitrarily.
Most often, when an ox grew old, the farmer would hand it over to a government-designated slaughterhouse for processing.
Oxen typically lived for about twenty to thirty years. Combined with their scarcity—for instance, in Xiaohe Village, with several dozen households, only the village chief’s family owned one—ox p*nis had become quite a precious item.
Old Master Wu had given him one, but it was extremely pungent and foul-smelling. Just the sight of it made Fang Zichen lose his appetite. He considered reselling it and asked Shopkeeper Yang about the price. He was so shocked, a single ox p*nis could sell for eight or nine taels of silver, nearly the price of a young calf!
Later, with other matters keeping him busy, the ox p*nis was still sitting at home.
If Xiao Feng didn’t want to eat it, he’d just saved himself several taels of silver!
"Then stop crying."
Xiao Feng sniffled, "I... I want the... the quilt."
"Alright, alright, here's the quilt!"
After Fang Zichen finished wiping him down and came out, Zhao Ger glared at him: "Did you make him cry again?"
What did he mean, 'again'?
Fang Zichen felt both guilty and terribly wronged: "This kid's skin is just too thin! Say a couple of words and he gets so embarrassed he wants to cry. You can't blame me for that!"
Xiao Feng was indeed a bit shy. He had always kept to himself before, and with so much work, he rarely interacted with others, making him somewhat introverted.
"It's fine." Zhao Ger took the basin from his hands: "Once he's been around you long enough, he'll learn to be thick-skinned too."
Fang Zichen: "......"
Fang Zichen glanced around. The young medicine boy was busy at the front, and the courtyard was mostly empty. He reached out and swatted Zhao Ger's butt—it was fleshy and quite nice to the touch—saying, "You and your nonsense."
Zhao Ger's face flushed, then paled, then flushed again.
___
They stayed at the medical hall for another three days. After Physician Xu examined Xiao Feng and saw that his wounds had improved enough for him to move, he told Zhao Ger to take him home.
He had to send them home; he was truly afraid of Fang Zichen by now. The man came asking for red dates every single day, and if refused, he'd call him a quack. Those things weren't expensive, but giving out a handful daily still added up to quite a bit of silver.
After several days at the medical hall, they had accumulated quite a few belongings—clothes and bedding. Zhao Ger packed everything up. Concerned that Xiao Feng was still unsteady on his feet, he went out to find an ox cart. Returning to help Xiao Feng out, he entered the room only to find him gone.
The young medicine boy came over: "I saw him go out earlier. I thought he was looking for you."
Zhao Ger hastily thanked him and turned to search.
Xiao Feng, still unwell, had picked up a wooden stick from the kitchen to use as a crutch. He had originally intended to leave, but after walking a short distance, he found himself standing lost and bewildered at a street corner.
It was an intersection. He didn't know which way to go.
Meng-shi had never brought him to town. In his whole life, he had only been to two places: Xiaorong Village where he was born, and Xiaohe Village.
To him, these two places were hardly different—just different locations for suffering.
Amid the bustling crowd, he timidly glanced around, like a lost child.
He hadn't gone far. Zhao Ger soon found him.
He took Xiao Feng's hand: "Xiao Feng, where are you going?"
Xiao Feng hunched his back and said nothing. Zhao Ger said, "Let's go back. You're not fully recovered yet, you shouldn't wander off."
Xiao Feng hung his head, the old scar on the back of his neck exposed. He was so short that Zhao Ger couldn't see his expression clearly.
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