"Is this a rabbit? So big, so big one!"
"Yes, yes, a rabbit." Xiao Feng stood the rabbit up to show him.
Guaizai ran in, poked it carefully, and asked, "Can Guaizai hug it?"
The rabbit plush was taller and bigger than him. Guaizai hugged it with some effort, but it wasn't hard to see that he liked it too.
Xiao Feng pursed his lips. Seeing Guaizai reluctantly hand the rabbit plush back, he hesitated and struggled for a moment, then said, "I... I don't want it anymore. It's... it's for you."
When he was at the Liu family, Meng-shi often told him he was the older brother. He had to look after his younger brother, to yield to his younger brother. He ate Liu Gouzi's food, lived under Liu Gouzi's roof, so he couldn't fight with his younger brother.
He didn't know what he was supposed to yield. He had nothing, while his younger brother had everything. He had never fought for anything either. But he still remembered these words.
"Ah~" Guaizai looked at the plush, then looked toward Fang Zichen. Fang Zichen didn't speak. Zhao Ger had arrived without anyone noticing when. Upon hearing Xiao Feng's words, he was just about to speak up, but Fang Zichen gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head in his direction.
Guaizai looked up at Xiao Feng, then down at the rabbit plush. Frowning, he thought for a moment, hugged the plush tightly, then stuffed it into Xiao Feng's arms. Immediately after, he averted his gaze resolutely and said firmly:
"Guaizai doesn't want it. This belongs to Brother! Guaizai can't take Brother's things. Also, Guaizai is a man. Guaizai can't have pink things, or else there's no manly smell anymore. This clearly is for little children! Guaizai has already grown up. Can't have it."
"Is that so?" Fang Zichen tutted twice: "Then it seems the Ultraman I specially asked someone to make for you will have to be returned."
Guaizai's eyes widened: "What?"
Fang Zichen walked out. Guaizai, like a little whirlwind, chased after him. In the room, seeing Fang Zichen pick up a bundle and about to leave, he immediately used all four limbs to cling to his leg and started sweet-talking.
Guaizai said he didn't want the rabbit, but he wanted the Ultraman. Ultraman was a man's toy. He liked Father the most, most, most. Fang Zichen sat on the bed. Guaizai eagerly scrambled up, burrowed into Fang Zichen's arms, hugged his neck tightly, puckered his watery little mouth, and kept kissing him. Fang Zichen, his face covered in saliva, finally stopped teasing him.
Zhao Ger was helping him comb his hair. Though the comb tugged a little and stung, he paid it no mind. He held the Ultraman, turning it over and over, examining it from every angle.
So this is what Ultraman looks like!
His two eyes are as big as eggs, and he doesn't wear clothes. But so cool!
These items were crafted by an embroiderer from sketches provided by Fang Zichen. With the New Year approaching, he had also commissioned one for Yang Mingyi. That kid usually put on an aloof air, giving off a 'keep your distance or I'll freeze you with a glance' vibe. Yet, when he laid eyes on his cat plush, didn't he immediately become rooted to the spot?
Hah, kids are just kids.
Trying to imitate me as some aloof male god?
Can just anyone be an aloof male god?
Guaizai hugged the Ultraman, rolling on the bed from the head to the foot, then from the foot back to the head. Even when it was bedtime, he was too excited to sleep.
His hair wasn't too long, just reaching his shoulders. Now with static electricity, it stood on end, making him look like a ghost.
Fang Zichen pulled him over: "Tomorrow, should Father give you a haircut?"
Although in ancient times they said 'the body, skin, and hair are gifts from parents, and must not be carelessly harmed or damaged,' meaning hair shouldn't be cut, it wasn't actually that it couldn't be cut at all. The rule was it couldn't be cut too short. If no one ever cut their hair from birth to burial in a coffin, the hair would be over ten meters long!
Adults couldn't cut it shorter than shoulder-length, but for children, it didn't matter. For example, in the villages, some homes were crowded. If chickens and ducks were kept in the backyard and not cleaned frequently, fleas could easily appear. During the busy farming season, children at home often went days without washing their hair while also helping care for the livestock, making it easy for them to pick up fleas or lice. That kind of infestation couldn't simply be washed away, so most families would just cut their children's hair off.
Some elderly folks, with old-fashioned thinking, viewed hair as part of the body. They wouldn't cut their own and didn't allow others to touch it.
But such people were in the minority.
Guaizai touched his head, somewhat troubled: "Does Father want Guaizai to be a little monk? But Guaizai doesn't like knocking little wooden fish. Guaizai wants to eat meat. Monks don't have meat to eat. Then Guaizai would be barbeque (done for)."
Fang Zichen: "..."
"Don't talk nonsense." Zhao Ger pinched his cheek: "Go to sleep quickly. It's very late."
...
Fang Zichen was off duty today. Yesterday he said he would cut his son's hair. The only pair of scissors at home was too big, so Zhao Ger borrowed a pair from Aunt Liu.
Fang Zichen found an old garment to wrap around Guaizai's neck, then went to the kitchen to find a bowl. Zhao Ger watched as he inverted the bowl and placed it on Guaizai's head. Guaizai's head was big, and the bowl simply wouldn't sit properly on top. Fang Zichen went back to the kitchen and returned with a plate. This time it settled perfectly, fitting just right.
Zhao Ger had never seen this method before: "Husband, you... do you really know how to cut hair?"
Fang Zichen poked his waist, boasting without shame: "You have to believe in my skills. I've invited the spirit of Teacher Tony to possess me. Just rest assured!"
Zhao Ger didn't understand what or who 'Tony' was. Being poked made him a bit ticklish. He blinked and admonished: "Just don't cut the child's ears."
Fang Zichen glared at him: "Can you say something nice? I've been a professional in beauty and hairdressing for over twenty years. Could I possibly make such a low-level mistake?"
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