Gungun and Dandan were simply too fat. With ordinary chubby kids, their eyes get squeezed into slits, but Gungun and Dandan’s eyes were still big — it was just that their chubby cheeks were so plump they dragged down. If they didn’t watch it, even those little slits might disappear one day.
It didn't matter so much for Dandan, but Gungun was still a ger. If this kept up, any future husband would probably take a detour at the sight of him – how would he ever marry? Zhao Ger had to be tough.
Seeing that they really couldn't get any more food, Gungun and Dandan didn't cry. They spotted some crumbs that had fallen on the plate, picked them up, and ate them clean. There was still cream on their little spoons, so they stuck out their tongues and licked them clean. They even went after the bits that had dropped on the table when the cake was being cut – couldn't pick them up since they were stuck to the tabletop, so they just lay down and licked. However one looked at it, it was pitiful.
Even beggars on the street weren't this desperate.
Fang Zichen sighed helplessly. In the end, he couldn't bear to see his sons like this and gave them his own portion.
"Huh? Father..." Gungun and Dandan's eyes went wide, their breathing growing heavy with excitement.
How could Father be this good!
They really, really loved Father!
Guaizai had originally planned to secretly save some for his little brothers, but now that he saw they were getting more, he opened his mouth wide and wolfed down his entire slice in one go.
After the cake, everyone naturally gave their gifts. Xiao Feng could barely keep up with receiving them all, and even Guaizai looked on with envy.
On the fifth day of the new year, the Wang family came bearing gifts to pay a visit. They hadn't expected Fang Zichen to receive them in person, but the gatekeeper led them in, served tea, and Fang Zichen soon arrived with Guaizai in tow.
Boss Wang was a man in his early thirties, a bit stout and a bit short, with a simple, honest face – and he truly was that way in character. He had a good reputation, unlike Huang Zheng.
Earlier, they had bought grain from the villagers at four copper coins, transported it to the county, and sold it for seven coins – one coin less than the Huang family. It wasn't intentional competition; it was simply that the county people weren't very well off, and many were quite poor. Eight copper coins was truly too much. Boss Wang had even specifically sought out Huang Zheng to discuss setting a uniform price of seven copper coins, but Huang Zheng refused, saying that Boss Wang was certainly kind‑hearted – in that case, why not just give it away for free? Which merchant didn't care about profit?
Making a fair profit was reasonable enough, but there was no need to be so greedy. Even at seven copper coins, there was still a bit of profit to be made—everyone had a family to feed, after all. But eight coins? That was just too much.
The Huang family refused to agree, so the Wang family went ahead and sold at seven coins on their own. The price for coarse rice was even lower—they barely made enough to cover their hard work. As a result, their shop naturally attracted many customers. The Huang family felt their business was being stolen and had been quietly suppressing the Wang family. With no way out, the Wang family was forced to relent and raise their prices to match the Huang family's.
Perhaps feeling guilty about this greedy move, for the past ten years, every winter the Wang family had set up a porridge stall at the city gate, helping countless common people.
The day before yesterday, the prefect sent someone to buy grain from the Wang family. When they learned the grain was for the new recruits, the Wang family sold it to the government at five coins per catty, saying they wanted to do their part for Hezhou too.
Such an honest merchant was definitely worth meeting—after all, if they didn't see him, they couldn't accept his gift!
When the Huang family caught wind of this, they rushed over in a panic, but the gatekeeper blocked them from entering, so they could only pace about outside.
The prefect was ignoring them, and the Wang family was their sworn enemy. If the Wang family managed to get in good with the prefect, what would become of them?
After waiting for most of the afternoon, Boss Wang came out with a flushed face, looking visibly stirred up.
A young servant walked up to him, head held high, and said arrogantly: "Boss Wang, my master requests your presence."
Wang Qiang remembered what Fang Zichen had said, so he went.
First came the usual polite exchange—smiling faces hiding true intentions—then the probing, both overt and covert. Wang Qiang said nothing, giving away not a single detail. Seeing he couldn't get anything out of him, Huang Zheng's face darkened.
"Now that Boss Wang has gotten in with the prefect, you've certainly grown a stiff backbone."
Wang Qiang replied with a hint of fluster: "Whatever do you mean, Master Huang? I'm just a humble merchant—how could I possibly have any connection with the prefect? It was merely the steward of Lord Fang's residence who received me today. But surely Master Huang knows that even a steward in a chancellor's household holds the rank of a seventh-grade official. Naturally, I was pleased to have exchanged words with him."
[宰相门前七品官 (zǎixiàng mén qián qīpǐn guān): lit. At the prime minister's gate, a gatekeeper is a seventh-grade official; fig. A powerful person's subordinates, no matter how lowly their official position, wield considerable influence because of their master's status.]
Huang Zheng studied him carefully, and seeing no sign of deception, asked: "Really?"
"It's true. I'm just a small merchant trying to make a living. If the prefect were to receive anyone, it should be a man of Master Huang's stature," Wang Qiang flattered.
Huang Zheng thought it over and had to agree—the prefect was a third-grade official; he wouldn't grant an audience to just any cat or dog.
Still, the Wang family's actions warranted a warning.
"Boss Wang, you're practically a junior to me, so I'll speak bluntly. In business, one must stay grounded and steady. If you start getting any clever ideas, I'm afraid things will get difficult for you down the road."
Wang Qiang understood perfectly—the threat wasn't even veiled. Huang Zheng seemed to worry he might be too dense to get it if he spoke too subtly, and he clearly didn't fear Wang Qiang at all, showing no regard for saving face. He might as well have said outright:
"What do you mean by sending gifts to the prefect? Are you trying to curry favor with him? Thinking that if you butter him up, you can take on our Huang family? Don't even dream of it. If you dare harbor such thoughts, I'll crush you. And even with the prefect on your side, in the business world, he won't be able to protect you."
Wang Qiang loathed the Huang family, but truth be told, he'd never actually considered going head-to-head with them before—the gap in power was just too vast. He had the will but not the nerve. Having been crushed once before, losing two shops to the Huang family, Wang Qiang would have loved to bite off a piece of their flesh if he could. But the Huang family was too powerful; if he provoked them again, they could easily destroy his family business. However, the prefect had extended an olive branch, and Wang Qiang figured that living under the Huang family's thumb in humiliation was no way to go on—he might as well take the gamble. Succeed or perish.
And besides, if the prefect wanted to take down the Huang family, how much longer could they stay arrogant?
Remembering what Fang Zichen had said, Wang Qiang now looked at Huang Zheng and thought: You're about to meet your doom, and you still dare to threaten me? How utterly clueless.
Let you have your arrogance for a few more months.
With that thought, Wang Qiang broke into a smile again.
He replied courteously, saying, "Master Huang is absolutely right. I understand, I understand."
Huang Zheng felt like he had punched a bundle of cotton. Face dark, he turned and left without a word of farewell — a clear sign that he held Wang Qiang in utter contempt.
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