TAMW CH72

“Uncle Deng, I want this! I want to eat this! What is that over there? I want that too!” Qingming perched on Deng Yongquan’s shoulders, chirping excitedly while pointing at the roadside stalls.

Deng Yongquan was already panting under the boy’s weight. No matter how capable he was, he could hardly bear little Qingming’s solid heft for long. He hurriedly set the toddler down on the flagstones before his neck gave out completely.

“Little Master, the Master and Madam explicitly said you are not allowed to eat any more. Didn’t you already finish your dinner tonight?” Deng Yongquan pleaded helplessly.

“Nobody said you can’t eat after dinner! Daddy does it all the time. Before bed, he always has the servants bring water into the room, several times in fact! Mother is always telling him to rinse his mouth. He is constantly snacking at night, so why don’t you scold him?”

Little Qingming knitted his brows, deeply perplexed.

In his innocent understanding, servants brought water into the bedchamber only for washing up. Every time he hid rice crisp bars or hard candies beneath his pillow for a late-night feast and got caught, the servants would bring in basins of water, forcing him to rinse and brush his teeth under the dire warning that sneaking snacks without rinsing would rot his teeth straight out of his mouth.

Qingming’s room was in his parents’ courtyard, with the main bedroom on one side and his chamber on the other. Many times when he woke in the middle of the night to use the chamber pot, he saw maids waiting outside with warm water to carry in.

Daddy snuck snacks in the dead of night all the time, yet strictly forbade him from having a single bite.

Qingming resented this deeply. He resolved that when his father grew old and died in the distant future, he would eat snacks every single night, forbid anyone from watching, and refuse to share a single crumb with his own son.

Why did his father get to eat whenever he pleased? Because his father was the Master.

In this household, whatever the Master decreed was absolute, and everyone had to obey.

Qingming decided then and there that he would become the Master one day.

Hearing the boy blurt out such unfiltered thoughts, Deng Yongquan shuddered inwardly: a ruthless streak truly ran in the blood. Although the Little Master looked more like the Madam, this vengeful temperament was the spitting image of the Master in his youth.

He said nothing on the surface, yet tallied every grievance in his heart, ready to nurse a grudge into his old age just over a stolen late-night treat.

“My little ancestor, please, do not utter a word of this,” Deng Yongquan begged.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Little Qingming pouted. “If you want me to keep quiet, fine. Buy that for me.”

He seized Deng Yongquan’s hand, tugging and swaying with relentless persistence until Deng Yongquan had no choice but to slap his own forehead in defeat, digging silver coins from his pocket to buy him a sugar figurine.

“Look at that, Deng Yongquan bought him another treat,” Yuqing laughed softly.

Around New Year’s Eve, street stalls were permitted along the avenues of Baizhou without stall fees or commercial taxes. Families who had prepared extra rice cakes or pulled sugar set up tables, their displays stretching along both sides of the thoroughfare all the way down toward the harbor in lively splendor.

Yuqing wore a heavy cloak of inky black wool. His fair skin stood out radiantly against the dark fabric, enhancing the striking elegance of his features.

Zhou Xiao was desperate to hold hands even in the street, frequently slipping his fingers beneath the cloak to check if Yuqing’s hands were growing cold. If he detected a chill, he would immediately call for a servant to swap in a piping-hot copper hand warmer.

Strolling a few paces behind while Qingming and Deng Yongquan explored ahead, the two husbands took in every hop and skip of their child.

“That little glutton,” Zhou Xiao muttered, rolling up his cuffs. “I’m going to twist his ears.”

“Now, now,” Yuqing reached out to catch his sleeve. “It is New Year’s Eve. Let him feast to his heart’s content. Gluttony runs deep in his roots; you can hardly blame the poor boy.”

Yuqing’s eyes curved into soft crescents, warm enough to melt anyone’s resolve.

In earlier years, Yuqing had assumed he would be a strict, unyielding parent. Yet once Qingming was born, his own flesh and blood, everything the boy did was utterly darling. If the child wished to eat, Yuqing happily indulged him.

Seeing his wife look so gentle and radiant, Zhou Xiao felt his chest tighten, grumbling playfully, “So you’re blaming me, then?”

Yuqing chuckled into his collar and stopped walking. Zhou Xiao halted beside him.

Hawkers shouted their wares on both sides of the crowded street, the bustling throngs and passing rickshaws capturing the prosperous energy of a flourishing golden age.

Zhou Xiao tilted his head down to look at him. Yuqing slipped a slender hand from beneath the dark cloak, tapping Zhou Xiao’s nose with a warm, tender fingertip. “What do you think, you greedy cat?”

Zhou Xiao wanted nothing more than to sweep Yuqing into his arms right there on the pavement, shamelessly declaring that he was a greedy cat and proud of it. In bed with his wife, he shed every scrap of dignity. Yet out in public, buttoned into trousers and a tailored suit like an upright gentleman, restraining himself after months of unbridled indulgence felt thoroughly unnatural.

Yuqing smiled, withdrawing his hand beneath the wool, and continued following the child.

They watched little Qingming linger at one stall, then scurry eagerly to the next.

The paper parcels in Deng Yongquan’s arms multiplied rapidly, and he turned back to glance at his masters with a look of pure, pleading helplessness.

Yuqing nudged Zhou Xiao’s shoulder, gesturing for him to lend a hand.

Zhou Xiao walked up and took a bundle of treats that the child had already taken a few bites of.

The sugar figurine was an intricate piece, though Qingming had merely nibbled off two small corners.

“I’ll buy you a fresh one,” Zhou Xiao offered, watching Yuqing take the figurine and lick a piece of the amber candy.

“No need. Have a taste yourself; haven’t you gone years without one?” Yuqing held the confection toward him.

“I have never eaten one in my life,” Zhou Xiao replied.

In his youth, no one had ever given him sweets or bought novelties to soothe his tears. By the time he attained the power and wealth to buy whatever he pleased, he had long outgrown the age for sugary treats.

Yuqing did not need to study his face to know the man was fishing for sympathy. Yet men were weak to such displays, and Yuqing was no exception.

He smiled softly. “In that case, the Master ought to have a taste. Tonight, we shall borrow our son’s good fortune and sample this sugar figurine together.”

He pressed the sweet directly to Zhou Xiao’s lips.

No longer refusing, Zhou Xiao parted his mouth and bit down on the exact spot Yuqing’s tongue had just grazed.

“How is it?” Yuqing asked.

Gazing at his wife’s face as the sugar melted over his tongue, Zhou Xiao murmured, “Turns out, it’s just sugar.”

Puffed and sculpted into the shape of a majestic dragon, it looked novel to the eye, yet the ingredient was plain syrup, lacking any profound complexity.

It was merely sweet, nothing more.

The flavor was almost plain, yet meeting Yuqing’s smiling eyes, Zhou Xiao could not help breaking into a grin.

Their gazes locked, then both lowered their heads in unison, laughing quietly at their younger selves.

In their youth, they had grieved over being denied such simple treats. Looking back, the sorrow was unwarranted, born of innocent longing. Sharing it now felt like quietly fulfilling an old, forgotten dream from a lifetime ago.

It was sweet. And that sweetness reached far beyond the sugar.

“Daddy, Mother, hurry up!” Qingming’s milky voice piped up ahead, ringing crisp and bright over the chatter of the avenue.

The two men picked up their pace. Yuqing took another small nibble of the candy. He had always possessed a sweet tooth; holding the morsel in his mouth puffed his cheek out slightly, making him look endlessly endearing in Zhou Xiao’s eyes.

Even though Yuqing had borne a child, in Zhou Xiao’s heart, his wife remained the one person capable of making his pulse race with a single glance, leaving him desperate to reach out and touch him no matter where they stood.

“We are in the middle of the street; Master Zhou, please show some restraint,” Yuqing murmured, feeling the heat of his gaze.

“Who dares criticize me?”

“The heavens are vast and the earth is broad; no one dares criticize the Master. But we are outdoors, could you not rein yourself in just a little?”

If the man grew excited in broad daylight on a bustling avenue, was Yuqing supposed to duck into some deserted alleyway to perform his wifely duties? That would be scandalous beyond measure. Master Zhou had never been a man of modest decorum; one had to stay vigilant.

Called out so directly, Zhou Xiao’s face flushed crimson.

Yuqing always voiced what he was thinking with calm precision, puncturing his desires without leaving a sliver of cover for his false modesty.

Zhou Xiao replied meekly, “Yes, whatever Madam decrees is law; I shall simply obey.”

Yuqing rewarded him with an affectionate, sidelong glance.

The family strolled from one end of the market to the other until Deng Yongquan’s hands could not hold another package, his knuckles turning pale under the strain of the bundles.

Before heading home, they bought a generous haul of fireworks and firecrackers.

The loud celebratory crackers at the front gates of the Zhou estate had already been set off that morning. These evening fireworks were reserved for the inner courtyard, meant for just the three of them to enjoy in peace.

Qingming managed to sneak two rice cakes from the pantry, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he scampered across the courtyard.

Zhou Xiao unrolled the long strings of red firecrackers across the flagstones.

Yuqing cradled a fox-fur muff in his arms, directing Zhou Xiao on where to lay the fuses.

Qingming toddled over, plopping his round bottom onto the stone steps. “Mother, didn’t we already set off firecrackers this morning? Why are we doing it again?”

Yuqing slipped one hand from the muff, sitting down on the steps beside his son and wrapping an arm around him.

Qingming burrowed happily into the folds of his mother’s heavy cloak.

“You crafty little rascal, where did you swipe those from? Didn’t you eat your fill in the street? How can you still be eating?”

“Walking and eating made me hungry all over again!”

“Such a glutton, with an excuse ready for everything. You are the spitting image of your father, lying with a straight face and always having a reason prepared, hmm?”

Yuqing poked the boy’s plump cheek as he spoke.

Born premature, Yuqing had been terrified the child would be frail, constantly indulging his appetite. Who knew that before he even grew tall, he would turn into a round little ball?

Still, Zhou Xiao was young and robust, and the child he fathered was healthy and thriving, which pleased Yuqing greatly.

Though the Master was improper in private, he was dependable in every matter of consequence.

Poked in the cheek by his mother, Qingming giggled, burrowing deeper into his arms instead of pulling away. “Mother, tell me, why do we have to set off firecrackers? I want to light them too.”

“Children are not allowed to play with fire,” Yuqing said gently. “Setting off firecrackers at night scares away the Nian Beast. Otherwise, it will creep to Qingming’s bedside while you sleep and gobble up all the treats hidden under your pillow. But when the firecrackers pop, the beast gets terrified and runs away, so Qingming’s snacks stay safe beneath his pillow.”

“Ah!” Qingming was at the age where he took bedtime tales as absolute truth. Hearing this, he scrambled out of Yuqing’s cloak in a panic and threw his arms around Zhou Xiao’s thigh. “Daddy, light them! Quick!”

“Oof!” Zhou Xiao felt the impact on his leg, catching the boy by the scruff of his collar with a laugh. “Trying to knock your own father over?”

“Daddy, hurry and light them!”

Chuckling, Zhou Xiao drew matches from his pocket, touched flame to the fuse, scooped Qingming into his arms, and darted back toward Yuqing.

A deafening volley of crackles and pops tore through the courtyard, showering sparks against the night. Qingming cheered with pure delight.

Zhou Xiao cupped his hands over Yuqing’s ears to shield him from the din. Qingming hopped and danced on the steps, turning back to ask eagerly, “Mother, did the Nian Beast run away?”

Hearing this, Zhou Xiao realized Yuqing had spun a story about the beast. He asked with a teasing grin, “Madam, what is this Nian Beast? Could you tell the tale?”

“Mother, tell Daddy too,” Qingming piped up. “Daddy loves eating late-night snacks too!”

Both rascals, big and small, clung to Yuqing, calling him Mother and begging him to tell the story of the Nian Beast once more.