Guaizai talked to himself, making it seem very real.
"You do? Big brother misses you too. Oh, you ask what big brother ate today? Big brother ate chicken meat today."
"Was the chicken meat tasty? Of course it was! Rich but not greasy, tender and delicious. When you come out, Big brother will personally kill a chicken for you to eat. Is big brother good? Do you love big brother?"
"You do?" Guaizai laughed, his brows curving as he leaned close to Zhao Ger's face. First, he puckered his little pink lips and kissed him. "Daddy, the little brothers say they love big brother the most."
Zhao Ger smiled and patted his head. "Then Guaizai must love his little brothers the most too!"
Guaizai furrowed his brows, troubled. "Love the little brothers the most?"
Zhao Ger looked at him. "What's wrong? Don't you love your little brothers?"
"I do love them! But what Guaizai loves the most is Daddy and Father," Guaizai said.
Zhao Ger cupped his face and kissed him. Guaizai pressed his forehead to Zhao Ger's, clutching his clothes tightly with one hand, and suddenly asked seriously, "Daddy, are you tired?"
Zhao Ger was startled, then pulled him into his arms and stroked his back gently. He knew his son was no longer easy to fool, so he told the truth: "Yes."
Guaizai looked up at him.
"But Daddy is very happy," Zhao Ger said, seeing the confusion on his face. He pinched Guaizai's little nose and asked, "Do you feel tired when you help Daddy and Father wash clothes and do chores?"
In those days, there were no underpants, just simple undergarments. Fang Zichen was too embarrassed to let Uncle Tang or Aunt Jiang wash the three of theirs. Zhao Ger was heavily pregnant and could barely squat down, let alone wash clothes. Fang Zichen certainly wouldn't let him. Sometimes Fang Zichen washed them himself; sometimes Guaizai did. But most of the time, it was Guaizai. Small as his hands were, he could still scrub the clothes clean. Summer clothes were thin and easy to wash, but winter clothes were thick. After soaking in water, Guaizai couldn't even wring them out, let alone lift them out of the basin. He would break out in a sweat after finishing just one piece. Of course it was tiring.
Plucking duck feathers was tiring too, as was gathering firewood. When the family was poor, Guaizai had to work from a very young age—pulling weeds, feeding chickens, he could do it all. Now that their circumstances had improved, he hadn't turned into a spoiled young master. He often helped Zhao Ger with chores.
Zhao Ger saw him nod. "Then next time, would you still be willing to help Daddy and Father wash clothes and do chores?"
Guaizai didn't hesitate. "Yes! When Guaizai washes them, Daddy doesn't have to wash them. Then Daddy won't get tired. Guaizai can help Daddy with chores. Even if Guaizai gets tired, he's still happy."
Zhao Ger smiled. "Daddy is the same as Guaizai. Even though Daddy is tired, he's happy. Daddy loves your little brothers, so even when Daddy is tired, he's still happy."
Guaizai understood. His little hands were soft as he touched Zhao Ger's belly again. "Daddy, carrying the little brothers is very tiring and hard. It must have been just as tiring when you carried Guaizai before. Guaizai will be good from now on, protect Daddy, love Daddy very much, and not make Daddy angry anymore."
Just as Zhao Ger was feeling warm inside, Guaizai suddenly let out a giggle.
"Daddy, when Guaizai touches your belly like this, it feels like Guaizai is being a little rascal!"
Zhao Ger: "..."
He'd been touching it for almost two months! This realization was way too late! Zhao Ger pinched his little butt. He was six years old, yet his butt was still only the size of a bowl. Zhao Ger was a little worried.
Fang Zichen came in with hot water and soaked Zhao Ger's feet for him. Lately, Zhao Ger's feet had been severely swollen. Fang Zichen knew this was normal, but it still pained him to see it.
As the due date approached, Zhao Ger's pregnancy grew more difficult. The rapid growth of the two babies placed a heavy burden on his body. He often felt soreness in his limbs, frequent and urgent urination, and sometimes difficulty breathing.
He didn't hide any of this from Fang Zichen—not that he could. Fang Zichen's full attention was on him. His eyes might as well have been refined in Taishang Laojun's pill-refining furnace; not a single move by Zhao Ger escaped his fiery gaze.
[Taishang Laojun's pill-refining furnace (太上老君的炼丹炉, Tàishàng Lǎojūn de liàndān lú): the mythical furnace of Taishang Laojun (a supreme Taoist deity) used to refine immortality pills and treasures.]
Fang Zichen knew Zhao Ger was suffering. His heart ached for him, but there was nothing he could do except come home every day and tease him. Even though every time he teased too much, Zhao Ger would chase him out of the room.
Fang Zichen massaged his feet while Guaizai came over, stood behind Zhao Ger, puffed out his cheeks, and started massaging his shoulders.
"Daddy, does it feel good?"
Zhao Ger turned his head and kissed the back of Guaizai's hand. "Yes! It feels good."
Guaizai smiled and pounded even harder.
The capital began to turn cold in the last ten days of the tenth lunar month. Zhao Ger's due date was the next month.
On the 27th day of the tenth lunar month, a courier escort service arrived with two boxes of goods sent by Zhou Ger.
Inside was a letter. The handwriting was crooked, probably from a beginner—the strokes were still very immature. Easy to guess: it must have been written by Liuliu.
Sending just a single letter from Yuanzhou to the capital cost several taels of silver. With goods, the cost was even higher. These two boxes were large and heavy, probably costing over ten taels.
Business in Yuanzhou was doing well, so Zhao Ger had written to ask Lin Xiaoxia to raise the Liu family's wages. Not only because of their past relationship, but also because the Liu family had worked hard for so long—they deserved a raise.
He occasionally wrote to Zhou Ger as well. Zhou Ger couldn't read, but Liuliu could. At first, when Liuliu still couldn't write well, replies were rare. Later, as Liuliu's calligraphy improved and he could write more characters, Zhou Ger began sending letters frequently. The two gers were truly best friends and had so much to say that every letter was a thick stack.
Guaizai also often wrote to his little friend, saying how much he missed him and asking if he was doing well at the academy, whether anyone had bullied him. If anyone had, he should tell Guaizai, and Guaizai would tell his father to go back and deal with them.
Given his connection to Fang Zichen and Old Master Qin, naturally no one dared bully Liuliu at the academy.
Fang Zichen happened to be resting that day. He carried the boxes into the main hall and opened them. They were packed full of dried goods.
These were gifts from the villagers of Xiaohe Village.
There were plenty of dried vegetables and some blackish cured meat. The other box was full of children's clothes: hats, shoes, and some cloth diapers.
The fabric felt decent enough. Though it couldn't compare to what was available in the capital, having lived in the village before, Fang Zichen knew—this was the best gift a farming family could offer.
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