Fang Zichen was taken aback for a moment, then slightly tilted his head, refusing to comply. "I didn't say anything."
Zhao Ger immediately grew anxious, tugging lightly at his sleeve. "You just said it. You said you only like me."
Fang Zichen acted recklessly. "You're hearing things."
Zhao Ger almost stamped his foot. "No, I'm not! You really said it just now."
Fang Zichen twirled the umbrella handle, rainwater flying off like snowflakes. He shrugged. "So what if I said it?"
"Say it again," Zhao Ger said.
"You want to hear it?"
Zhao Ger nodded hurriedly. "Mhmm! I want to hear it. Husband, say it again, please?"
The word 'please' was deliberately drawn out, like the sweet moans during their playful moments in bed.
Fang Zichen raised an eyebrow, smiling nonchalantly, his posture elegant, but his words utterly heartless: "Then... you'll just have to keep wanting."
Zhao Ger was both moved and angry, hitting Fang Zichen once. Fang Zichen clutched his chest. "You, this ger, really... hitting people again? Addicted to hitting? Do you want to beat me to death so you can become a widow?"
Zhao Ger: "..."
Zhao Ger hugged one of his arms, trying to please him. "Husband, I only like you."
Fang Zichen looked utterly confident. "I know that!"
Zhao Ger laughed, his eyes curving slightly. "Then you must only like me too, okay? If other girls approach you in the future, can you tell them you have kidney deficiency!"
Fang Zichen: "..."
Fang Zichen was ready to explode at the mention of these two words now. He jumped in anger, shouting, "My kidney deficiency your ass."
Seeing Zhao Ger pout, looking wronged, the rain getting heavier, and the muddy road slippery and hard to walk on, Fang Zichen sighed. Suddenly, he bent down. "Get on."
Zhao Ger snorted but obediently climbed onto his back.
In the distance, mist rose over the mountain peaks, a haze of smoke and rain. Raindrops pattered onto the not-so-large oil-paper umbrella. Zhao Ger tightly wrapped his arms around Fang Zichen's neck, his face pressed against his broad, warm back.
"Don't ask that kind of question again in the future," Fang Zichen suddenly said.
Zhao Ger was confused. "What?"
"Don't ask me if she's pretty, if I like her," Fang Zichen said. "For us immortals to fall in love with mortals violates heavenly law. I've already broken it once. If I do it again, the Queen Mother of the West will probably chop my head off."
[The Queen Mother of the West: the supreme goddess of Chinese mythology, the immortal ruler of the Kunlun Mountains, associated with longevity, immortality, and cosmic order].
He paused, his gaze falling into the rainy mist. "Being with you isn't a choice I made after weighing the pros and cons. It's the unwavering certainty I feel after my heart skipped a beat, a sweetness I willingly embrace."
His voice, wrapped in the cold air, reached Zhao Ger, who felt as if he'd been suddenly scalded.
"Right now, I might not have a lot of money, but since you've become my fulang, you don't have to carry everything alone anymore. You can tell me when you're wronged. When there are difficulties, we can solve them together. If I have something delicious, the first bite will definitely be for you. My love for you will never change."
The voice of the eighteen-year-old youth had already become steady and sharp. When expressing feelings, the infinite tenderness within was something no recording device could replicate.
The surge of warmth emanating from his few words had an impact that was unforgettable and etched in the bones.
He had said these things to Zhao Ger many times before, but each time, he never tired of it.
Actually, judging by his appearance alone, apart from an air of nobility, another point was that his features were too sharp and striking, like the bright, clear, cold, and distant moon hanging in the sky, giving a sense of aloofness and pressure.
But in reality, his appearance and his behavior were seriously mismatched.
Anyone who spent any real time with him soon realized he was no refined gentleman, but more like the legendary monkey king let loose from the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit—mischievous and unrestrained.
Apart from giving birth, he seemed capable of everything. Optimistic and cheerful, frivolous in manner, he appeared very playful and unreliable, often making people feel like an ox was flying in the sky while he was blowing on the ground. But... he had a stronger sense of responsibility than anyone; beneath his laughing and carefree surface was an extremely meticulous heart.
[吹牛 (chuī niú): lit. blowing the ox; fig. bragging or talking big]
"How good others are has nothing to do with me. However lacking you are, I still like you. I'm eighteen this year. There's still a very, very long road ahead. I won't be stuck in Xiaohe Village forever. The sky outside is vast, the world is big. I will meet many different kinds of people. But I will never leave you behind. With you here, it's better than thousands upon thousands."
A drop of water fell into boiling oil, causing it to sizzle furiously. In the biting cold wind, Zhao Ger could no longer feel the piercing chill.
His heart was convulsing wildly, his throat blocked, momentarily seeming to lose the ability to speak.
Battling the sourness in his eyes, with Fang Zichen's face so close, he leaned in to kiss him, devoutly, passionately.
He said, "Husband, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be jealous and suspicious. I'm not petty either. I... I'm just afraid of losing you."
"I know." Fang Zichen looked straight ahead, his steps steady, tightening his grip on Zhao Ger's legs. "A person's worth lies in self-awareness. Someone like me, brimming with charm, handsome and dashing, easily likable—it's inevitable for you to feel insecure about me. But being with you is something I do willingly and happily. Even though when we're together, others might say I must be blind, otherwise how could I fancy someone like you, I don't mind."
He shook his head, sighing with genuine feeling. "In this day and age, how many eighteen-year-olds are like me—financially independent, able to pay for a steamed bun without a second thought? It's only natural you'd feel a little insecure, having such an outstanding and perfect partner."
Zhao Ger: "..."
Zhao Ger couldn't help but hit him again.
Fang Zichen winced, rubbing the sore spot. After all that sweet-talking and racking his brains to make him feel better, Zhao Ger still wasn’t fully satisfied?
He actually hit him.
This person's heart must be made of a little d*ck!
Why does it get harder the more you soften it!
Fang Zichen thought he couldn't indulge him any further. Seeing they were almost home, Fang Zichen dumped him by the roadside and ran into the courtyard.
Zhao Ger hadn't expected him to be so wicked. Caught off guard, he staggered a few steps, almost falling. Clenching his teeth, he picked up a stick from the roadside and chased after him in a few quick steps.
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