Chapter 264
Guaizai clutched his clothes tightly and said in a very small voice, "Elder Sister and two elder brothers, they don't like Guaizai. They said, what the heck is that stuff on Guaizai's head?"
Guaizai put one little hand on top of his own head and said, "They said Guaizai's hair looks like armpit hair."
Fang Zichen: "..."
Fang Zichen's gaze fell on Guaizai's hairline on his forehead, where there were many little fine hairs growing.
Guaizai's hair was on the softer side, and also very fine. Before, its color was very light; later, after eating well, it became much darker. The ends of his hair had a slight natural curl, not too obvious, but the little fine hairs just growing at his hairline were curling quite noticeably.
Fang Zichen was used to seeing it and didn't think much of it, but those few children were truly a bit too much, actually saying that about his son, it was really outrageous.
Guaizai said very distressedly: "But, what is armpit hair?! Guaizai doesn't know. Guaizai has seen chicken feathers, wool, duck feathers, dog fur, but has never seen armpit hair. Father, what is armpit hair?"
As he spoke, he raised his arm, his little hand touching his own armpit: "Will hair grow here too? But Daddy and Father don't have any."
Fang Zichen: "..."
A ger's constitution differed from a man's, with body hair naturally sparse. Zhao Ger, being a ger, had none, while Fang Zichen, as a fastidious and refined man, had no use for such things anyway.
The thought of raising his arm to reveal a dark, hairy armpit was neither proper nor appealing.
"It's okay, let them talk." Fang Zichen kissed Guaizai, then patted his head and said, "Next time they say that to you again, you tell them their hair looks like butt hair."
Guaizai nodded vigorously: "Mn!"
Between children, scuffles or small conflicts were normal, so Fang Zichen didn't take it too seriously.
After coaxing his son for a bit, seeing his mood improved, he then took him towards the Wu residence.
Guaizai was led by a servant to the classroom. Fang Zichen went to find Old Master Wu, fumbled in his pouch for a long time, counted several times, and after confirming there was no mistake, he put the silver on the table and pushed it towards Old Master Wu.
Old Master Wu's brow twitched, his heart suddenly pounding with alarm. He stared at the silver for a moment, then looked at Fang Zichen, confirming he seemed normal, before saying: "Has the sun come out from the west today? You're actually giving me silver."
Fang Zichen, already heartbroken, feeling like someone had cut out a piece of his flesh, replied grumpily upon hearing this: "What do you mean by that?!"
He was a bit unhappy; this old man really didn't know how to talk.
"Zhao Ger asked me to give it to you. My little son eats lunch at your place, it can't be for free all the time. I'm just not the kind of person who likes taking advantage of others."
He stated it with such conviction, not showing the slightest hint of guilt or embarrassment, as if it were completely true. If Old Master Wu didn't know his character, he really might have almost believed it.
He felt Guaizai was just a child, didn't eat much, and his family wasn't short of that one meal, so he didn't want to accept it. But thinking about Zhao Ger's honest nature, if he didn't accept, Fang Zichen would definitely be overjoyed, but Zhao Ger would probably feel embarrassed.
Thirty taels, if measured by village standards, not just for one child, but for a whole family, it would be enough for several years. If frugal, it could last eight or nine years.
But Yuanzhou was different from the village. After Zhao Ger had a meal at the Wu residence, he asked Guaizai about it when he got home. At the Wu residence, every meal came with several dishes—sometimes four or five, other times seven or eight. Naturally, the cost couldn't be calculated the same way as it would be in the village.
His own child ate a lot, so it had to be calculated based on an adult's portion. Thirty taels was neither too much nor too little.
And in a situation like this, it was better to give too much rather than too little, lest it appear he was trying to take advantage.
Old Master Wu accepted the silver, then warned Fang Zichen that since the payment was given willingly, he had better not even think about ambushing him on the road with a sack over his head later.
"What kind of insult is this? My character is top-notch, an outstanding young man. Am I the kind of person who would do something like that?" Fang Zichen snorted, his tone displeased.
Old Master Wu laughed, reminding him: "Last time, weren't you planning to put a sack over Bai Wenhui's head?"
Fang Zichen was choked up, gave an embarrassed little laugh, desperately trying to save face.
"Ah, I was just joking then! You know, I'm a very humorous person."
Old Master Wu was noncommittal. He hadn't noticed any humor, but he could certainly see someone who needed a good lesson.
He changed the subject, asking Fang Zichen if he had been studying recently, and if he had encountered any problems he didn't understand.
Fang Zichen shook his head, said he had studied, but hadn't encountered problems. Before, when he was in university, he had practically worn out the history books and some documents in the library. Not to mention things like the Rites of Zhou, eight-part essays, policy questions, the Spring and Autumn Annals, the Doctrine of the Mean. He had also read basic theories and knowledge in fields like historiography, ancient writing, and historical geography, including general Chinese and world history, Chinese and Western historiography, and Chinese and foreign history. That bald history professor often guided him and always tried to persuade him to switch majors. But he felt that this major had limited job prospects, and his parents expected him and his older brother to eventually take over the family business. Becoming a company president and driving a Ferrari—now that was an appealing future.
He already had a solid foundation, so how could he not understand?
If he didn't have some knowledge, would he have overreached and boasted like that about going to Class A?
No way!
Failing the exam would be really embarrassing.
He, Third Young Master Fang, couldn't afford that kind of embarrassment.
Fang Zichen waved his hand dismissively and said to Old Master Wu: "Enough talk, I need to go home. Daxiong said he's taking me to earn some extra money today. I'm off!"
Old Master Wu watched his retreating back and felt like taking off his shoe and throwing it at him.
Fang Zichen came back, busied himself in the courtyard for a while, then slipped back into the house to make paintbrushes.
He was more proficient now, having developed a feel for it. So, while his hands moved, he also looked at the books on the table.
He had been making paintbrushes for several days, and now they were almost all finished.
He had made many colors for Guaizai, sixty kinds. He could have finished a few days ago, but Xiao Feng said he wanted some too, and Liuliu and Jiaojiao also looked at him with expectant eyes. He still had materials left, so he simply made them for everyone as well.
He had bought paper himself and bound it into a sketchbook. Using a self-made pencil, he drew small patterns in the top left corner of each page, including cats and dogs, all very lifelike.
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