Chapter 171
When Zhou Ger got married, Zhao Ger watched him and Liu Xiaowen, a perfectly harmonious pair, always going everywhere together, and he couldn't help but feel envy.
Perhaps the longing in his eyes was too obvious, because Aunt Liu told him: For gers and girls, from the moment they are born, Yue Lao has already tied a red thread for them. One end is tied to themselves, and the other end is tied to their destined person. When they grow up, that person will follow the red thread, trek over mountains and rivers, cross hills and valleys, to come find them.
[月老 (Yuè Lǎo): the Chinese deity of marriage and love, who predestines unions by tying a red thread around the ankles of those destined to be together.]
This person might be a man with a very good temper, or he might be someone not very good.
But no matter what, he would eventually marry, would have a husband, and then in the long years to come, they would support each other.
Aunt Liu told him not to be anxious, to wait patiently.
Zhao Ger knew she was just comforting him, but he still chose to believe it.
Living alone felt overwhelming, and he needed something to cling to, something to keep him going.
On nights when it was too cold to sleep, Aunt Liu's words often echoed in his ears. He began to wonder, could he really, like Zhou Ger, when he came of age, meet someone who would be full of heart and eyes only for him?
In the village, most marriages were blind marriages where the couple hadn't seen each other before the wedding. Many had never met before marriage. Most of them just muddled along together. But Zhao Ger never wanted to just muddle along. When Ma Wen said he liked him and wanted to marry him, coupled with his resentment towards the Ma family, he refused.
He didn't think Ma Wen was his destined person.
Moreover, life was short, only a few decades. He didn't want to muddle through life with someone. That kind of muddling along wasn't for a day or two, something that could be endured and then it would be over. It lasted until death.
He wondered countless times what his future husband would be like. Would he be like most of the men in the village, honest, simple, and perhaps a bit slow-witted? Would he have thick eyebrows and big eyes? Would he have a good temper? Where was he now? Was he already on his way? Did he know someone was waiting for him? He himself was a ger, would he mind?
He thought about many things, but the more beautiful his thoughts were, the more agonizing it felt when he 'sobered up' and returned to reality. Everyone outside knew he had been bought by the Ma family. First, he was a child bride for a fool. After the fool died, he became a servant of the Ma family. Later, Ma Wen liked him, and the Ma family spread word outside that he was Ma Wen's concubine.
With all these things, no one would be willing to marry him. Even if someone was willing, the Ma family definitely would not agree to let him go.
In this lifetime, he was destined to die alone in the Ma family...
But now... he had a husband. Fang Zichen's goodness was something he had never dared to imagine.
Because it felt too wonderful to be true, a constant fear lingered in his heart. Sometimes he wondered if Fang Zichen was merely an illusion, conjured by his own desperate mind during the harsh, cold winter nights.
He despised this insecure part of himself, yet he was powerless against the anxiety that overwhelmed him whenever Fang Zichen wasn't around.
He had no sense of security. His fears, his dread, his anxieties, he never revealed even half of them to Fang Zichen. Yet Fang Zichen could always understand those hidden thoughts of his.
Some feelings cannot be hidden; even with a hand over the mouth, they will spill out from the eyes.
Fang Zichen had never been one to express his affections openly. But he feared that Zhao Ger would not understand, that he would not see the depth of his care. So he set aside his pride, repeating "I love you" to him again and again, as if the words themselves were a shield against doubt.
Over and over again, tirelessly, trying to set his mind at ease.
He came to believe that the best state of marriage was this: you are the shelter for me and our child, and we are the home that awaits you.
It was undeniable. Fang Zichen had given him what he desired most.
He had gritted his teeth and held on so desperately until now, precisely to meet such a person and stand side by side with him.
He didn't dare ask for anything more.
When going to sleep at night, he was unusually proactive in bed, clinging to Fang Zichen until he was left weak and exhausted after just two rounds.
Fang Zichen braced his hands on either side of him, looking down at him. The hair on his forehead was a bit damp, sweat dripping from the ends, trailing down his neck, rolling into the hollow of his collarbone. He saw that Zhao Ger, after just two bouts with him, was already spent again. He couldn't help but pout, his expression seeming still lost in desire, yet also tinged with a trace of unwillingness.
This unfamiliar yet extremely attractive expression made Zhao Ger's heart flutter exceptionally. He lifted his foot and gently rubbed Fang Zichen's waist. His brows and eyes were smiling, presenting a demeanor of 'yours to take'.
Fang Zichen was startled for a moment.
Zhao Ger wrapped his arms around Fang Zichen's shoulders, his gaze soft and fragile:
"Husband," he buried his face beside Fang Zichen's neck, breathing warm air as he said, "I still want it."
A man who cannot satisfy his fulang is not a good man.
Fang Zichen had previously been considerate of him. Even if he wasn't fully satisfied, he would always stop after one or two rounds. This time, the pleasant surprise was too sudden. He didn't think deeply.
Possessiveness, like an unbridled horse, erupted from his body. With an 'ao wu' sound, he claimed Zhao Ger once more, and their passionate play lasted deep into the night, leaving the old yellow ox thoroughly spent.
The next morning, Fang Zichen found it a bit hard to get up. Zhao Ger pushed him.
Fang Zichen, hugging his soft son, was desperately sleepy. He casually made an excuse, his voice sticky: "Let me get up later, please, let me sleep for two more minutes. Last night I was almost drained dry by you, I'm too tired."
These words made Zhao Ger both shy and heartached. He tucked Fang Zichen's quilt in properly, and simultaneously felt a burst of pride. This time, even his own small frame wasn't so tired he couldn't open his eyes. This confirmed his suspicion, his husband truly had not fully recovered from his previous exertion.
Later, he needed to go buy an old hen to nourish him.
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