The Liu family had been poor all their lives and hadn't seen many good things, but they also knew that wealthy people like Qin Hengxuan would surely give something extraordinary. Moreover, looking at the luster of that jade pendant and the lifelike tiger carved on it—which was their child's zodiac sign—the Liu family didn't dare accept it at first sight. But they couldn't refuse, and in the end they accepted it.
Gungun and Dandan weren't impressed by the gifts. The two little guys had no eye for such things. The jade pendant couldn't be eaten and was hard like a stone. If someone had given them half a catty of meat, they probably would have been happier. Qin Hengxuan watched the two little guys put it in their mouths and bite it, couldn't bite through, glance at it again, and then directly give it to Zhao Ger.
Qin Hengxuan: "..."
Really, these little brats with no sense.
"Brother." Gungun and Dandan went to pull Guaizai: "Let's go blow up rat holes."
Guaizai and Liuliu carried a bag of firecrackers and led the two children out.
After watching them leave, Yang Mingyi lowered his eyes.
Fang Zichen went back to his room and busied himself for quite a while before coming out. Seeing Yang Mingyi sitting alone in the main hall, with everyone else gone, he couldn't help but be curious. He went over and patted him on the head.
"Brother Fang?"
"Why didn't you go with them?" He remembered Yang Mingyi was the best at finding mouse holes—found one every time—and loved playing this the most. Had he changed after not seeing him for a few years? Did he really want to be a cool, aloof male god?
Yang Mingyi didn't speak.
He felt he was older now, so how could he still go out and play?
But in Fang Zichen's eyes, a boy in his teens was just a young lad.
"If you want to play, go!"
"People will laugh," Yang Mingyi said gloomily.
In the village, gers his age stayed at home waiting to be married. How could they still run out to play all day?
For a young man, it was still somewhat acceptable.
"Why would they laugh?" Fang Zichen looked at him. "Playing gets you laughed at?"
Yang Mingyi didn't speak.
"Are you afraid people will laugh at you?"
Yang Mingyi shook his head.
If it were before, he definitely wouldn't be afraid.
But now that he had come to Hezhou to seek refuge with Fang Zichen, he felt he was marked with Fang Zichen's label. He didn't dare make a single mistake in word or deed, afraid of causing trouble for Fang Zichen.
Fang Zichen understood what he was thinking.
"Then what are you afraid of? Who says you can't play once you're a bit older? So what if you're a ger or a man? Aren't we all just people? As long as we don't steal or rob and don't harm others, what can't we do? Life is about enjoying yourself while you can. Don't trap yourself in rules and boundaries. Let people say what they want. If people are full and have nothing better to do, why care about them? No one gets to decide what you should do at this age or what you must do. Your thirteen, your fourteen, even your future—all of it is decided by you, not by others. And you don't need to worry about causing me trouble. You know your Brother Fang has never been afraid of trouble."
People always like to 'define' others.
At this age you should do this, you must do this. Or they think that because you're a scholar, or because you're a girl, you should act such and such a way.
Most people think scholars should understand reason and be upright and kind.
Hooligans mostly have tattoos, so tattoos are improper—as if whoever has one isn't a good person.
But Fang Zichen didn't think so.
He had seen a big brother who wore just a tank top, with a green dragon on the left and a white tiger on the right, looking like a gangster. But he had seen that man, without fear of danger, catch a child falling from the third floor of a shopping mall with his bare hands.
He had also seen people in suits and ties, dressed like elites, walk past an overpass and kick a beggar's bowl flying.
When he told dirty jokes and took advantage of people, Zhao Ger had also said he didn't seem like someone raised by a wealthy family, but more like a small-time hoodlum.
But what difference was there between a child from a wealthy family and children from other poor families?
Essentially, weren't they all people?
If you insisted on saying something, it was just that his circumstances were more comfortable.
Since they were all people, what others could do and say, he naturally could too.
There was no reason to say that every son of a rich family was refined and gentle. On the contrary, because their circumstances were more comfortable, they were more 'lawless,' arrogant, and domineering. Therefore there were plenty of scoundrels and trash among them—racing cars, chasing girls, ending up in jail—too many to count.
Girls and gers didn't have to be quiet, gentle, and weak to be good.
Feudal thinking can't be changed overnight. He didn't have that much ability. He could only try his best to let the people around him live comfortably and follow their hearts.
People call following the crowd normal, and anything else strange.
But as long as you're not doing anything bad, do what you want. Gossip can be frightening, but as long as your conscience is clear and you don't harm others, you have nothing to fear.
After Yang Mingyi was fed this bowl of chicken soup, the way he looked at Fang Zichen couldn't help but become a little admiring.
No one had ever said such things to him—only Fang Zichen.
Fang Zichen clasped his hands behind his back and spoke with the pompous air of an old veteran: "This kind of life insight can only be comprehended by people with very high ideological awareness. Yi Ger, you're still a bit short."
Yang Mingyi: "..."
Just now he had felt Brother Fang's figure suddenly become very tall. His eyes really were bad.
Fang Zichen smiled, lowered his head slightly, and asked, "Do you still want to play with firecrackers? If you do, I'll take you."
Yang Mingyi was extremely tempted, but his expression didn't change much. He only nodded hard. He had few interests in this life—aside from chess, it was playing with firecrackers.
Fang Zichen led him out of the main hall and wanted to tell Zhao Ger so that Zhao Ger wouldn't come back looking for him and hit him again. But after looking around, he didn't see him. Only Xiao Feng was in the kitchen.
"Where's your Uncle Zhao?"
Xiao Feng: "Uncle Zhao went to pick vegetables."
Fang Zichen glanced at the basket of greens on the cutting board and said, puzzled, "Picking vegetables again?"
Xiao Feng nodded: "Yes! That's what Uncle Zhao said."
"All right, we're going to play. Are you coming?"
Xiao Feng glanced at Yang Mingyi, tossed down the firewood, and decided on the spot: "Coming."
The three of them had just stepped outside when they heard a commotion up ahead.
"Daddy, a rat ran toward you!"
"Handsome Grandpa, there's one at your feet too—step on it, quick!"
Meng Ruqing had never seen a rat before. The gray, scruffy thing darted about and looked utterly terrifying. His face went pale on the spot and he cried out in a trembling voice, "Brother Xuan! Brother Xuan!"
Qin Hengxuan had just finished blowing up a rat hole and hadn't had time to run over when Yang Mingyi charged forward first. He lifted his foot—fast, accurate, and ruthless—and pinned the rat beneath it.
When he moved his foot away, the rat was completely flattened.
Qin Hengxuan: "..."
This Yi Ger really can't be judged by his looks — he's probably first-rate at stomping on things too.
Guaizai was delighted to see him. "Uncle Yang, you came too."
Yang Mingyi: "Mm."
"That's great! Then let's go blow up rat holes." Guaizai's eyes sparkled.
Xiao Feng caught up. "I'm coming too."
Guaizai's eyes went wide. "Oh! Brother Xiao Feng, you came too!" Earlier he'd called for both of them and neither would come, which had made him a little sad.
The children ran around the fields.
Seeing that no one was watching, Fang Zichen smacked Zhao Ger on the butt.
This Ger had run off to play and lied about going to pick vegetables — he really deserved a smack.
Zhao Ger laughed, his face flushed pink. "What are you doing?"
Fang Zichen looked at him and sighed after a long while.
This little ger actually likes to play sometimes, but he's always busy, constantly running around after me and the children, with no time at all for himself.
He suddenly felt very sorry for Zhao Ger.
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