Chapter 353
That evening, when Xie Xiaoyu returned, Zhao Ger called him over to eat some lychees. Even Uncle Tang, Feng Momo, and Yu Ger got a share.
Since most ger had a sweet tooth, Yu Ger and the others squinted their eyes in pure bliss as they ate, looking as if they were enjoying something truly extraordinary.
Zhao Ger liked them too, but didn't dare eat too many. Xiao Feng gave a bunch to Xiu Ger, and the group of ger sat on the steps of the inner courtyard, looking utterly delighted. Guaizai was among them. It wasn't that he was lazy—ever since Yu Ger and the others arrived at the Fang family, Guaizai had never treated them like servants. Although he was the young master and should maintain some distance so that servants wouldn't overstep their bounds, Fang Zichen had never allowed that kind of attitude.
Back in the modern world, even when hiring a nanny to help with housework, he'd still call her "Auntie." They were employees, but they were still people, and basic respect had to be given. Yu Ger and the others were simply unlucky in life; aside from that, they were no less than anyone else. If they made mistakes, he could correct them or scold them, but he couldn't just beat or abuse them. If they ever got too arrogant and tried to walk all over him, he had his own ways of dealing with them. Making people obey didn't have to rely solely on "using power to crush them."
Guaizai remembered every word Fang Zichen said. He knew how terrible it felt to be beaten and scolded, so he treated Yu Ger and the others well. Not just Uncle Tang, Feng Momo, and Da Li, but even Dou Ger and the rest. When Guaizai went to help out at the shop, he would call them "uncle" this and "uncle" that—never addressing them by name directly. He even sang for them. When he went to get ice cream, he'd ask if they wanted some too. And whenever Dou Ger and the others came back from work, he'd often go running to the kitchen to fetch water for them to drink. His temperament was still the same as when they lived in the village.
Yu Ger and the others were also very fond of Guaizai. After all, he was the only child in the household right now. He didn't even have to lift a finger—when he turned his head to the left, Yu Ger would happily peel a lychee and feed it to him; when he turned to the right, Dou Ger would feed him another.
Guaizai was utterly delighted, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying being pampered left and right. He puckered his lips and gave each of them a kiss as thanks.
Yu Ger and the others laughed and fed him even more eagerly.
Fang Zichen's eyelid twitched uncontrollably at the sight.
Oh no. This kid needs a trip to juvenile detention for some serious correction.
Look at him—barely a few years old, already acting like some spoiled emperor enjoying his harem. Even a mediocre emperor who'd ruled for a decade probably couldn't compare.
Zhao Ger came over and sat down next to Fang Zichen. The sun had already set, the sky was a deep blue, and although the cicadas were still chirping, it wasn't as hot as it had been at noon.
"I want to teach Yu Ger and the others arithmetic in the evenings, when I have time. Is that okay?" Zhao Ger asked.
Right now, only Xie Xiaoyu and Feng Momo handled the accounts at the shop, and they could barely manage. But it was exhausting—one was in charge of cooked foods, the other cold drinks, so neither could leave their post. Last time, Xie Xiaoyu urgently needed to relieve himself and couldn't hold it any longer. He had no choice but to let Da Mi take over for a bit. The result? She messed up the accounts. Xie Xiaoyu didn't blame her—not only because he wasn't the type to be harsh, but also because he knew he'd be in no position to blame her.
He knew perfectly well that Yu Ger and the others couldn't do arithmetic, yet he'd still asked one of them to fill in. When a mistake happened, he bore most of the responsibility. Fortunately, he'd only been gone a short while, and only one customer had checked out. That customer saw Da Mi counting on her fingers and, having bought things several times before without ever seeing her handle payments, immediately started rushing her. Da Mi panicked, and in the end, miscalculated—charging the customer thirteen copper coins less than she should have.
It wasn't a big deal, but Da Mi still came back and voluntarily apologized to Zhao Ger.
After observing them for some time, Zhao Ger found them all to be good people. Having come from a village and experienced poverty and hardship, they worked diligently now that they finally had a stable life. That said, Zhao Ger knew that not everyone who had been poor turned out good. Some people were so terrified of poverty that once they got a taste of wealth and the comfort it brings, they grew afraid of going back to their old lives. That fear could push them to scheme and climb upward, breeding bad intentions.
But Yu Ger and the others had none of that. They respected Zhao Ger, never loitered around Fang Zichen, and although their gazes toward him were sometimes a little dazed and straightforward—occasionally even accidentally meeting Fang Zichen's eyes and making them turn bright red—Fang Zichen could clearly see that they just thought he was handsome. Nothing more.
Zhao Ger thought about training them up. After all, they weren't going to stop at just one shop.
"Sure, that's fine!" Fang Zichen understood his intentions. "I was going to bring this up even if you hadn't. I was thinking of letting Xiao Feng handle it, but if you think you can teach them, go ahead. Just don't overwork yourself. I heard that if pregnant gers don't rest well, they give birth to ugly kids. A child might not despise an ugly mother, but a father might despise an ugly son."
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Zhao Ger punched him. "Last time you said you'd love whatever I give birth to! You're lying to me again."
"That was last time! I was on top of you then, so of course I agreed with everything you said. Now…"
Zhao Ger's face darkened, and he raised his hand. "Now what?"
Fang Zichen flinched. He quickly leaned in to appease him. "Now it still counts, of course! I've always been a man of my word. A real man."
"Liar. That's not what you meant just now."
"I was just joking," Fang Zichen said, putting an arm around Zhao Ger's shoulder and pointing at Guaizai. "Not lying to you. Look at our son—all goofy. Do I hate him? I love him to death. Whatever you give birth to, I'll love. As long… as long as they don't look too much like big fat grubs. Those things terrify me."
Zhao Ger was speechless. To this day, he still didn't understand why Fang Zichen thought newborns looked like grubs. Back in the village when Wu Ger gave birth, the midwife brought the baby out, and Fang Zichen took one look, then refused to look again. He came back pale as a ghost, saying the baby was terrifying—absolutely terrifying. Later, when Wu Ger came to thank them and brought the baby along, Fang Zichen still didn't dare look. It wasn't until New Year's that he saw the baby again. He was stunned for a moment, then muttered something about whether the child had gone to Korea for plastic surgery or if lightning had struck the Du family's ancestral grave and made it smoke.
[Ancestral grave emits smoke: extremely lucky — as if one's ancestors are sending a sign of blessing from the afterlife. Usually said when someone achieves unexpected success or good fortune.]
Zhao Ger pinched his arm. "If you say stuff like that again, I'll hit you."
Fang Zichen nodded frantically. "I know, I know. Don't be mad, my little Brother Zhao."
The teasing aside, he truly didn't mind. It didn't matter if the child was ugly or not. As long as they were his own, even if one looked like a bear and the other like a ghost, he'd love them anyway.
Zhao Ger was still glaring at him. "You can't call our son ugly. If you do, I'll hit you."
Fang Zichen: "…"
The two younger sons aren't even born yet, and I've already fallen out of favor? This ger—just yesterday, when we were all lovey-dovey, he said he loved me the most.
Guess people really don't appreciate what they already have.
Looks like my ger is even more of a heartbreaker than I am.
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