Chapter 213
Zhao Ger simply couldn't bring himself to be so harsh. Guaizai didn't understand any of this—he couldn't understand. He was just a naive child. All he knew was to dig for wild vegetables, help his daddy with chores, do whatever little things he could, so his daddy wouldn't be too tired. He wanted to dig more vegetables, so his daddy could eat his fill, and he could eat his fill, too.
Wild vegetables did not taste good, but if they didn't eat them, they would go hungry.
He did not want to go hungry. Going hungry was truly too unbearable.
His only worry during those three years was: what if the wild vegetables he dug today were not enough? Would his daddy have to go hungry?
His only fear was being beaten.
He understood nothing. Therefore, when he saw Zhao Ger kneel before Fang Zichen, he plopped down to kneel beside him, his small hands braced on the rough ground, kowtowing, and in a milky voice, he imitated, saying, 'I beg you.'
It wasn't that he and Zhao Ger had no dignity.
Rather, one did not understand, and the other understood but had no choice but to submit to fate.
When Ma Lao'er ordered him to kneel and plead for mercy, Guaizai obeyed without hesitation. He said 'I beg you,' but Ma Lao'er thought these words were not 'pleasing' enough. He said begging was not done like that. He made Guaizai to crawl on his knees to his feet. Stretching out his foot, he commanded Guaizai to hold it with both hands and then lower his forehead to rest upon it.
"You should say, 'I beg the master to spare this slave!' Understand? You are the slave, I am the master."
Guaizai did not hesitate; he followed every instruction. His absolute submission and obedience made Ma Lao'er laugh heartily, seeming to find satisfaction. That time, he truly did not beat him again.
He had grown accustomed to kneeling. If it were before, he would have certainly scrambled up and done as Sun Shangcheng said, to avoid a savage beating. But now...
Sun Shangcheng saw him move, dragging his leg, crawling towards the direction of the door.
He narrowed his eyes, his chest heaving violently, furious. He rose and went to Guaizai's side, looking down at him from above, lifted his foot, and kicked him in the calf, several times in succession.
"Still trying to run? I'll teach you to run, I'll teach you to run."
Like a young beast falling into a trap, pierced by the sharp wooden stakes within, Guaizai let out a piercing, mournful shriek and finally began to sob and cry.
Sun Shangcheng's eyes lit up, his mouth splitting into a wide grin.
"He's crying, finally crying, hahaha, this sound, I like it. Come on, cry a few more times for this young master."
He seemed to have lost his mind, his eyes wide as he kicked Guaizai over and over, covered his mouth, and squeezed his neck—all just to force a cry from him. The neck in his grip was so small and fragile, as if it could snap with just a little more pressure. His fingers slowly tightened, uncontrollably, his excitement growing. Guaizai was nearly choked unconscious, his face turning pale, his two small hands flailing helplessly in the air.
He seemed to want to grab onto something, but there was nothing to grasp, and finally his hands fell powerlessly to the ground.
He could make no sound from his throat, only his mouth moved faintly, almost imperceptibly, as if saying something.
He was calling for Zhao Ger.
He said: Father, Daddy, it hurts, Guaizai... it hurts so much!
Sun Shangcheng was not afraid of beating someone to death.
He enjoyed the process of tormenting children. His fondness was extremely perverted; the more he liked it, the more he wanted to destroy the other.
Children were the best. They were ignorant and innocent, naive and obedient. Even their resistance, to him, was just useless struggle.
Good children did not need to grow up. Once grown, they would no longer be the form he liked.
But people, as long as they live, with the passage of time, will always slowly, slowly grow up.
How to not grow up?
Only through death.
For the dead, time can be completely frozen.
Such a lovely child, death was best. Only then could he remain forever this adorable.
"Young Master." The old steward, hearing no more movement from inside the room, pushed the door open and entered. "Young Master, let the child catch his breath for now. If you kill him, what will you play with tomorrow and the day after?"
Sun Shangcheng released his hand, frowning. "That's true. But I just can't control myself. I like this child far too much."
The steward sighed.
He had been with the Sun family for over twenty years, almost watching Sun Shangcheng grow up. Usually, the more Sun Shangcheng liked a child, the heavier his hand, often killing them within two shichen (4 hours).
He could not understand his young master. If his young master claimed to like these children, then why use such cruel methods against them. He also could not see what was so enjoyable about children. If one simply wanted to vent, they could just visit a brothel. Children only knew how to cry or cause trouble. They did not know how to speak pleasing words. There was nothing appealing about them at all.
But since his own young master liked it, he, a mere servant, couldn't interfere. He only needed to handle the aftermath properly.
Seeing his persuasion was futile, he closed the door and went out again.
...
Fang Zichen had never felt time pass so agonizingly slowly. He couldn't control the trembling in his hands, his mind a chaotic mess.
How is Zhao Ger... is he badly hurt... has anyone called for a physician...
And my son... where is he right now... has he...
"Third Young Master, the person is back." A thug came in through the door, his burly frame stepping aside to reveal a thin, short, small man behind him.
Fang Zichen leapt to his feet.
"You found them?"
"Yes, I did." The small man said. "I did as you instructed—"
Sun Zongze had four children in total, but only Sun Shangcheng was a son. Presumably, he doted on him to the bone. Trying to extract Sun Shangcheng's whereabouts from him would likely be very difficult. Fang Zichen brought a group to cause trouble precisely to intimidate Sun Zongze into submission.
The boss of the gambling den was a local tyrant in the town, with many subordinates and wide connections. If the county magistrate was number one in the entire Fu'an Town, then number two was this gambling den boss, followed by the shipping guild.
The gambling den boss didn't just own one den; the brothel in town was also opened by him, along with over ten other 'establishments' of various sizes, specializing in underworld business. Despite this, the man had decent character, never forcing sales or purchases, or compelling people into prostitution.
The Sun family only ran a cloth business, barely making the list in town, dealing in legitimate trade. They most feared those mixed up in the underworld. Now that Fang Zichen had brought people to cause such a scene, everyone understood.
Fang Zichen, he had backing.
To provoke him, one had to weigh the consequences.
The gambling den was not to be trifled with. Under such circumstances, to avoid escalating the matter, Sun Zongze had only two paths.
Either immediately hand Guaizai over, or hurry and finish the deed, leaving no trace.
The fact that Sun Shangcheng could live to this day, still take the imperial exams, without his deeds being exposed, clearly meant someone was cleaning up after him.
Whether for the sake of face or for Sun Shangcheng's future prospects, Sun Zongze would certainly choose the second option.
As soon as he was helped to the rear courtyard, he called for the personal servant who always attended him. "Go, find the Young Master. Tell him to quickly take the small path back to Yuanzhou. You and the steward dispose of that child. Do it cleanly, leave no trace. Go quickly."
The servant received the order and left. He came out from the shop, looked left and right, saw no one from the gambling den, and then hurried towards the city gate. The small man followed him all the way to Fuhe Village. After watching him knock and enter, he immediately turned around. Knowing how urgent the situation was, he ran back as fast as he could.
When Sun Shangcheng was called out of the room by the steward, he was somewhat displeased. Seeing the servant standing beside him, he frowned.
"What does the old man want now?"
The servant said respectfully, "The Master wants you to return to Yuanzhou immediately."
Sun Shangcheng: "Go back? This young master has only been back a few days. No."
"Young Master, the father of the child you captured today has come looking for him." The servant said.
Sun Shangcheng leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "So what? Just a country bumpkin from the village. Send him away, that's all."
"The other party is not to be trifled with," the servant said. "The Master ordered this servant to dispose of that child."
"This young master hasn't had enough fun yet!" Sun Shangcheng's face was full of gloom.
"But Young Master..."
"Get out! This young master will go back when he's had enough." Sun Shangcheng said impatiently. Qinghe Academy had strict rules, allowing only one break every seven days. Silver was tightly controlled, and afraid of being seen by the many teachers and fellow students at the academy, he had always behaved properly, not daring to step out of line in the slightest. Now, having finally returned for a rare visit, on his own turf, he could play however he wanted and was unwilling to go back so soon.
His trip today had been discreet—he hadn't encountered anyone on the road. The carriage was taken away to be altered immediately upon return. The whole affair was handled secretly. No one could possibly know.
Even if the Wu family's daughter-in-law were to point a finger at him, without any proof, there was nothing she could do.
He was currently studying at Qinghe Academy. Barring any mishaps, his name would be on the pass list after the next examinations. No one would dare to cross him.
He thought to himself, his father was just getting old—scared of his own shadow, far too timid.
The servant opened his mouth to say more, but Sun Shangcheng had already gone back into the room and wouldn't come out no matter how much the servant called.
The servant said bitterly, "What should we do?"
The steward glanced towards the room. The door was tightly shut, so of course he saw nothing. Originally, the child could still let out some cries, but later he hadn't heard much.
"It's fine." The steward waved his hand. "That child won't last much longer anyway. There's no rush for this moment. You go attend to your tasks first. Wait until he..."
His words were cut off as a knock sounded on the outer door.
The two exchanged a glance but weren't particularly concerned. This location was a well-kept secret. Aside from Sun Zongze and his son, the two guards watching the yard, the steward, and Sun Zongze's personal servant, no outsiders knew of its existence.
The steward thought it was just a villager coming to deliver vegetables. He lifted his chin towards the two courtyard guards, signaling them to go open the door, while he followed the servant into the adjacent room.
The knocking was urgent. One guard said, "Coming, coming."
As soon as the door bolt was lifted, the courtyard gate was kicked open. The guard opening the door hadn't even reacted before he was kicked in the abdomen, doubling over and flying backwards into the courtyard.
The other guard grabbed a weapon, warily looking towards the entrance. "Who's there?"
Fang Zichen led a group of people inside.
The servant looked out the window, startled.
"It's him! How did he find this place?"
The courtyard wasn't too large, with not many buildings, just five rooms. One door was particularly nice and located in the very center.
Fang Zichen didn't speak, striding directly and urgently towards that room.
The two house guards and the servant came out to obstruct but were pinned down by the thugs.
The noise outside was growing louder. With his robe hanging open, Sun Shangcheng yanked the door open and barked, "What's all this racket? You're ruining this young master's fun—do you have a death wish—"
He saw the man with eyes full of dark malice and widened his own eyes.
"It's you."
Fang Zichen bent his arm and swung it hard into Sun Shangcheng's chest, sending him crashing to the ground, then kicked him in the stomach.
The air inside the room was thick and stifling. Afraid that sound might leak out, the doors and windows had been shut tight. Fang Zichen didn't know what he saw, but his whole body froze in the doorway, instantly unable to move.
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