Chapter 378
When Zhao Ger lifted the bamboo basket and peered inside, three children were huddled together, looking up at him.
Old Madam Jia's family raised a fine fat pig. The whole family was counting on selling it at New Year's to earn some silver, so they fed it well—every day they'd cut several basketfuls of grass for it. Zhao Ger had gone over to Old Madam Jia's place to have a look, thinking he might buy one himself and slaughter it for the New Year. The moment he approached the sty, the pig, thinking it was feeding time, grunted and trotted over to the fence, lifting its head to look at him. That pig had looked exactly like his three children did now.
Pouty little mouths, fat heads with big ears, eyes squeezed into slits.
Zhao Ger's heart clenched. For a moment, he couldn't speak.
These three might be pig demons—or maybe he'd just lifted the basket the wrong way.
He covered it, then lifted it again. Zhao Ger wanted to cry.
His three adorable children—gone in a single morning. They were so swollen that Fang Zichen barely recognized them when he carried them home. Even Xiao Feng got a terrible fright, and Uncle Tang was so heartbroken he nearly cried. Zhao Ger had Zhang Quan hitch up the cart to take the children to town for a look.
Zhang Quan usually doted on these kids more than anyone. Seeing them in such a state—barely recognizable—he didn't dare waste a moment and hurried off at once.
In the cart, Fang Zichen looked at Guaizai. His whole face was swollen, but the worst hit was that little mouth. It looked like four sausages stapled right onto his face. He must have been stung quite a few times.
Back when they still lived in Xiaohe Village, when they'd crouch in the grass catching crickets and stumble upon a wasp nest, the wasps would ignore everywhere else and go straight for his pink little lips. And here they were again—he wondered whether his son's mouth just naturally attracted wasp hatred.
And why on earth had they gone playing out west of the village anyway? When he asked, Fang Zichen immediately wanted to give the boy a thrashing.
Daring to bring two tagalongs to poke a wasp nest—who else were they going to sting? There had been so many wasps, a dark swirling cloud of them. The nest must have been enormous. His son had truly inherited his boldness—there probably wasn't another soul under heaven with that kind of nerve.
Zhao Ger watched him scolding the child, only to somehow veer into praising himself, and let out a helpless sigh.
When they reached town, Guaizai fidgeted awkwardly: "Daddy, Guaizai's hair is messy. Can Daddy tie it up first, okay?"
Zhao Ger: "..."
Fang Zichen: "..."
At a time like this, their son still had the presence of mind to worry about his hairstyle.
How could he be so vain? Where did he get that from?
The moment the three children were carried down, the people around them gasped—and then immediately wanted to laugh.
They really couldn't help it—the three little ones looked so funny with all that swelling that it was impossible not to laugh.
Fang Zichen heard them. If these were someone else's children looking like that—eyes completely invisible, swollen like eggs, like little Ultramen, with nothing but mouths visible from a distance, big flappy ears, and bubbles coming out of their noses—he'd definitely have laughed his head off. But these were his children, and he simply couldn't bring himself to.
The old physician kept his lips tightly pursed throughout, holding back laughter as he examined the three children. He prescribed some medicine and told them to apply it at home. Then he warned them to keep a closer eye on the children—too many wasp stings could be fatal. Earlier, a child had been brought to him after a wasp attack, but it had been midsummer and the child was wearing thin clothes; he'd been stung all over and was already gone by the time he arrived.
That story sent a chill through Zhao Ger. On the way back, he held Guaizai tight the whole time.
"Daddy, I'm sorry. Guaizai caused trouble and hurt the little brothers too." Guaizai hung his head, eyes reddening as he apologized. "Guaizai didn't protect them well."
Zhao Ger stroked his head, the hair beneath his palm soft and downy. "Don't go there again. Wasps are very dangerous. You didn't run off and leave your brothers behind when things got dangerous—Daddy is proud of you for that. But it's not your fault you couldn't protect them. You're still little. No matter what happens, now or in the future, your first priority is to protect yourself. Only when you're safe can you protect others. So you don't need to apologize to Daddy."
Guaizai hadn't known the wasp nest would be so huge. His little friends had puffed out their chests, slapping them with impressive thwacks, acting all tough and mighty. The nest had been nearly the size of a carrying basket. When they knocked it down, the wasps came buzzing out in a fury, and his friends scattered in panic. Guaizai had even thought about trying to pee on the nest, but then realized that was probably way over his head—he couldn't possibly drown it—so he grabbed his brothers and ran.
By now, Gungun and Dandan had been medicated and were fast asleep. Fang Zichen pulled Guaizai into his arms and kissed the back of his hand, which hadn't escaped unscathed either. Guaizai burrowed into his chest and called out to him in a soft, childish voice.
Fang Zichen laughed. "Well, looks like you can't be the prettiest kid in town today. You'll have to settle for being a little scruffy chick. What are we gonna do about that?"
Guaizai: "..."
Guaizai clamped his hand over his father's mouth, not wanting to hear any more. "Father is a big meanie."
"A big meanie who's still handsome," Fang Zichen said, closing his eyes and pretending to recoil. "Oof, that's terrifying. Can't bear to look."
Guaizai giggled, prying at his father's eyelids, determined to make him look.
The father and son were at it again.
In the village, villagers usually just gritted their teeth and bore it through any illness, whether serious or minor. Since they'd already brought the children to see the physician, Zhao Ger had the physician prescribe extra medicine, then stopped by the pastry shop to buy a few catties of candy and dried fruit. Back home, he grabbed the medicine along with malt sugar and dried fruit and went door-to-door visiting.
When the other children's mothers heard what had happened and realized their kids had dragged Guaizai into it, they panicked when Zhao Ger came knocking. They tensed up, expecting him to come and blame them. But when they realized he’d actually brought medicine, they felt pretty embarrassed and couldn’t stop apologizing.
Zhao Ger didn't think there was anything to apologize for. The children's intentions had been good, and no one had forced his children to go—there was no trickery or coercion involved, so there was no one to blame.
Besides, he hadn't taught his children that this sort of thing was dangerous and should be avoided, so Guaizai hadn't known how fearsome wasps could be.
After this ordeal, the boy would probably steer clear of wasps for the rest of his life.
The malt sugar and dried fruit he brought were expensive—though he only gave half a catty per household, anyone could tell at a glance they weren't the cheap kind. Villagers had seen them in the shops before, asked the price, and never been willing to buy. Ordinarily, they'd have tucked them away to give as gifts when visiting relatives for the New Year—a decent enough gift that saved them the trouble of going all the way to town to buy something else. But with their children swollen beyond recognition, wailing like stuck pigs from the pain—these were children of their own flesh and blood, after all, and their hearts ached for them—so they broke out some of the treats to soothe the little ones.
The moment the little rascals tasted the candy, the tears stopped.
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