Chapter 358
Uncle Tang was bouncing the baby in his arms, absolutely delighted with him. "Master…" He looked up, only to find Fang Zichen had already darted over to the bedside.
Zhao Ger lay weakly on the bed, drenched in sweat and pale as paper—so fragile he looked like a porcelain doll that might shatter at the slightest touch.
Fang Zichen rushed over, his voice anxious and full of concern: "Zhao Ger, how are you feeling?"
Zhao Ger's voice was very soft, as if his throat were parched: "Husband, I feel awful."
Uncle Tang and the midwife stood to the side with the baby, while fresh clean hot water was brought in again. Feng momo was about to tell Fang Zichen to step out, but he snatched the towel from her hand and began wiping Zhao Ger down himself. Seeing how practiced he was, Feng momo said nothing.
After changing Zhao Ger into clean clothes, Fang Zichen slipped one arm under his shoulder blades and the other under his knees, lifting him up in a bridal carry.
Feng Momo and Yang Ger quickly changed the wet bedding.
The midwife bustled about as well, and watching Fang Zichen's tenderness, she thought to herself how fortunate Zhao Ger was to have found such a man.
She had been in this trade for decades—she had delivered babies in ordinary commoner homes and in the mansions of the powerful and wealthy alike. Every time a child was born, the head of the household would always rush to see the baby first, asking whether it was a boy, a girl, or a ger. The person who had just given birth had narrowly escaped death, yet if they bore a daughter or a ger, they might not even hear a single kind word—only being called useless. Those luckier might get a half-hearted "visit" out of obligation.
The new mother or dad was drenched in sweat and completely exhausted. The midwives and maids looking after them weren't very strong either, so often the person who had just given birth had to bear the pain and shift their own body. Having a husband who truly cared for his spouse—that made all the difference.
Fresh quilts were brought out from the cabinet, and once the bed was fully made up again, Fang Zichen gently laid Zhao Ger down.
Now clean and nestled against Fang Zichen's warm, solid chest, Zhao Ger no longer felt so miserable.
Uncle Tang brought the baby over again.
The moment the child drew near, Zhao Ger keenly sensed Fang Zichen flinch.
He felt a little like laughing.
He had seen the baby earlier, and it was indeed… rather ugly. The hair on his little head was sparse and wispy, his body and face were red and wrinkled, with some peeling skin—quite a pitiful sight. Even though he was his own child, even if he lied through his teeth, he couldn't bring himself to call the child good-looking.
But most newborns looked like this. Guaizai had been just as ugly back then. Not that he minded—he simply couldn't get enough of looking at the baby.
Right now, the little one wasn't crying, his eyes tightly shut.
Fang Zichen had somehow scurried to the foot of the bed: "Zhao Ger, you should rest now!"
Following Fang Zichen's instructions, Uncle Tang wrapped a red envelope for the midwife containing three taels of silver—which made her overjoyed.
That evening, when Guaizai came home and heard that Zhao Ger had given birth, he let out a string of excited yelps and charged toward the inner courtyard. Seeing Fang Zichen sitting slumped on the steps, looking completely worn out, he stopped short, ran over, hugged him, and asked anxiously: "Father, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," Fang Zichen said wearily.
"Did Daddy give birth to little brothers, Father? Aren't you happy?" Guaizai asked.
Fang Zichen rubbed his face. He couldn't bring himself to be happy: "Son, from now on, you need to take good care of your little brothers."
With two little sons looking like that, they'd probably never find a wife or marry out in the future.
Fang Zichen couldn't help but worry.
He and Zhao Ger—one devastatingly handsome, the other with an adorable round little face—he simply couldn't figure out where things went wrong for the two children to turn out this way. Zheng Peiyao wasn't human, but she still looked human enough. And Zhao Song was decent-looking too—proper features. All the children and grandchildren below him were good-looking as well, so Zhao Ger's genes were fine. Which meant the problem was probably on his own side?
Guaizai was confused: "Huh?"
Fang Zichen's eyes reddened: "Your little brothers are a bit… a bit terrifying. I'm afraid they'll scare people when they go out and get jumped in the street. You and Father have to protect them well!"
Guaizai furrowed his little brow, displeased: "Father, you can't say that about my little brothers. They're the cutest things in the whole world. What you're saying is not right." After lecturing Fang Zichen, he pattered into the room, then pattered right back out a moment later, his little face full of fright and lingering dread. He squeezed into Fang Zichen's arms and hugged him tightly, saying nothing—just looking deeply shaken.
Little brothers really are terrifyingly ugly, like little ghosts. Nothing like Uncle Du's little brother or eldest uncle's little sister. Too scary.
Once the birth was over, the Zhao family finally heard the news and came over, causing quite a lively commotion. But since the weather was cold, only the women entered the room; the men had to stand outside and ask their questions from there.
"Sister-in-law, what does the baby look like?" Zhao Yunyue asked eagerly.
Shi Nianqi said cheerfully: "Oh my, those little faces—just wonderful."
"Indeed. The brother-in-law is already handsome, and Zhao Ger is no slouch either. The children naturally can't be bad."
Fang Zichen and Guaizai exchanged glances.
Zhao Yunyue asked again: "Who does the baby take after?"
Zhao Ersao couldn't quite tell yet, so she replied: "I think he looks a bit like brother-in-law."
Fang Zichen: "…"
This woman is a first-class master at lying through her teeth.
If I really looks like that, Zhao Ger would have beaten me to death long ago.
Zhao Song came over after his shift ended. First, he happily went to the inner courtyard to see Zhao Ger, then came out for dinner, beaming as he talked about the two children. But as he ate, he suddenly started sighing and groaning.
On such a happy day, that was really bad luck. Zhao Yunyue chided him a few times, but Zhao Song glared back: "Can't you shut up even while eating? Want a taste of the wooden stick again?"
His third son was a hopeless case—other than reading storybooks, he knew nothing at all.
Fang Zichen asked: "Is the Hezhou matter still not settled?"
The only thing that could weigh on Zhao Song's mind was this very issue.
Zhao Song nodded: "You're not in court, but you're still sharp."
Fang Zichen said: "Didn't they send someone else over?"
He had heard that the previous deputy prefect from Shangyang had been badly beaten—wouldn't recover for at least half a year—and later someone new was sent.
Zhao Song said: "That man ran into trouble on the way."
Fang Zichen didn't know what expression to put on: "The locals again?"
"Who else?"
Hezhou had been oppressed by officials for too long. Every prefect and deputy prefect who had served there over the years were all birds of a feather—rotten to the core. The people had come to "fear" officials.
Now that the big cancer had finally been removed, naturally they didn't want anyone else to take his place. What if this new one was even greedier than the last? Then they'd truly have no way to survive.
When people are poor enough and hungry enough, they lose all fear. Not just county magistrates—they'd cut down a prefect without hesitation too.
The court officials were all terrified of being sent to Hezhou. Besides, everyone had their own duties and heavy responsibilities, so reassignments weren't easy. Promoting officials from other regions was also difficult—there was no suitable candidate at the moment. Some hadn't completed their terms, and others whose terms had ended didn't have the right qualifications to bear such a heavy burden.
Now, with no one governing Hezhou, no one knew how chaotic it had become. During the autumn harvest, the prefect had embezzled another huge sum, and the taxes were crushingly heavy. In previous years, many had already frozen to death—this year, the people there would likely face even greater hardship.
Zhao Song was a man who sympathized with the suffering of the commoners, so the meal tasted bland and joyless.
Fang Zichen saw him out and returned to the room, where Guaizai was lying by the bedside talking to Zhao Ger.
The two babies were placed in a crib that Fang Zichen had had a carpenter make earlier. Xiao Feng sat beside it, poking one and patting the other, utterly fascinated.
"Uncle Fang, the little brothers are so cute."
Fang Zichen forced a smile.
Xiao Feng knew he was afraid of these worm-like, boneless-looking little things, so he said: "All newborns look like this. They'll get better-looking in a few days."
Fang Zichen lightly kicked the little stool Xiao Feng was sitting on: "You talk like you have so much experience."
"That's just how it is. Uncle Tang and Feng momo both said so. Before," Xiao Feng paused, his voice dropping a little, "before, when Mother gave birth to my little brother, it was like this too."
Zhao Ger noticed his melancholy and beckoned him to sit by the bed, patting his hand: "Homesick?"
"No." Xiao Feng shook his head gently. "This is my home."
He truly rarely thought about it—not because he was heartless, but because thinking about it hurt. Zhao Ger and Fang Zichen treated him well, like elders, making up for the fatherly love he lacked. He was very satisfied with his life now.
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