I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Having a Child with You

When Yang Tongchuan came to offer New Year greetings, Xiangxi happened to be in the courtyard washing hawthorns and skewering them. The hands he had managed to heal with such difficulty were swollen and red from the freezing water once again.

“Sigh.” Yang Tongchuan was beyond words at this point. After putting down the gifts he’d brought—and the items he had bought specifically for Xiangxi—he left quickly. The Yang family had relatives visiting for the New Year, and he had to return to help.

Before he left, Xiangxi stuffed a few sticks of candied haws into his hands.

Yang Tongchuan brought these children’s treats back to the Yang house. The eldest brother, seeing them, happily took two for his wife. Yang’s parents didn’t care for them, so one was given to the maid, Yanzi, and a few others to the children of visiting relatives. One stick remained, which Yang Tongchuan ate himself.

Why does this sugar taste so bitter in my mouth? he wondered. Perhaps it was because his heart was uneasy.

The New Year temple fair was a sea of people. Yang Tongchuan proactively volunteered for patrol duty during the holiday. It was called a patrol, but it mostly involved wandering through the fair to prevent brawls, theft, and lost children.

As luck would have it, he picked one up right then—a little ger who had just learned to walk, crying so hard that snot covered half his face. Yang Tongchuan couldn’t soothe the little ancestor and couldn’t find the parents anywhere. At his wit’s end, he carried the child to the Xiang family’s stall.

Since the sister-in-law’s belly was too large, she stayed home, leaving Xiang Qiang and Xiangxi to run the stall. It was small; aside from the space for the candied haws, the rest was used for Xiangxi’s sugar paintings. There was a big spinning wheel—two wen for a spin. Whatever it landed on, Xiangxi would paint. This was a craft learned from the sister-in-law’s late alcoholic husband, which she had passed on to Xiangxi.

When Yang Tongchuan arrived with the child, Xiangxi had just finished a small sugar rabbit and handed it to a customer. Seeing Yang Tongchuan’s furrowed brows, Xiangxi guessed what had happened. After all, he worked the fair every year and saw lost children every year.

“Hand him to me. When you hear someone wailing nearby, that’ll be the parents.”

Xiangxi took the little ger into his arms, unbothered by the mess. He found a handkerchief, dipped it in clean water, and wiped the child’s face. “Be a good boy and spin the wheel. Whatever you get, I’ll paint for you.” Xiangxi’s way with children was truly remarkable. The “God of Crying” grew quiet almost as soon as he reached Xiangxi’s arms.

The child spun a large snake and began dancing with excitement. Xiangxi held the child with one arm while painting a large sugar snake with the other. By the time the child had nearly finished eating the sugar and fallen asleep in Xiangxi’s arms, the parents finally came searching, crying out in panic.

It turned out the couple had brought four children to the fair, and this was the youngest. With so many people, they had gotten separated; each parent thought the other was holding the youngest. They only realized he was missing when they gathered to leave.

Yang Tongchuan, face dark, gave the careless couple a harsh scolding. They were so ashamed they couldn’t even lift their heads. Xiangxi handed the child back. Having held the boy for so long, his shoulders were aching.

“Go back and rest if you’re tired,” Yang Tongchuan said.

Watching Xiangxi soothe that child to sleep just now had triggered a vision in his mind: he seemed to see Xiangxi sitting in the west wing of the Yang house, humming a lullaby to their own child.

“It’s still early. There’s no curfew during the temple fair; we’ll wait until the crowds thin out before heading back.” Tonight, perhaps stirred by the festive atmosphere, Xiangxi found he wasn’t afraid of Yang Tongchuan anymore and even dared to say a few extra words to him.

“Xiangxi, the crowd isn’t too thick right now. Go wander the fair with your fiancé. No rush to come back; I can handle the stall myself,” Xiang Qiang said.

“But Brother, your sugar paintings are so ugly. They won’t sell well.”

Xiangxi was too literal-minded; he didn’t realize his brother was trying to give them time to build their relationship. Xiang Qiang was nearly worried to death by his brother’s “wooden head.”

On the final day of the fair, Yang Tongchuan wasn’t on duty. He arrived at the stall in civilian clothes. He sat behind Xiangxi like a stone statue, watching him paint. Xiang Qiang felt immense pressure; his brother-in-law’s gaze was sharp enough to pierce right through him.

“Xiangxi, stop painting. It’s the last day and the fair will end early. Go stroll with Tongchuan; I’ll watch the stall.” Without giving Xiangxi a chance to argue, he pushed him toward Yang Tongchuan.

Satisfied, Yang Tongchuan took Xiangxi’s hand and led him through the fair he had patrolled for days. He bumped into patrolling colleagues and boldly introduced Xiangxi to them, speaking as if he had already married the boy.

Yang Tongchuan discovered that despite being eighteen, Xiangxi still had the heart of a child; he loved snacks. Rice cakes from one stall, sweet soup from another, and fried chestnuts from the vendor nearby. They bought their way through the fair until they couldn’t carry any more. Yang Tongchuan ended up buying a bamboo basket to hold all the treasures.

“Is it good?” Yang Tongchuan asked, watching Xiangxi peel the sugar-fried chestnuts with great efficiency.

“It’s delicious. Try one.” Xiangxi handed him a whole chestnut. Only then did he notice that Yang Tongchuan’s left hand held the toys he’d bought for Bao’er and his right hand held the basket. He had no free hand to peel chestnuts.

“Peel one for me,” Yang Tongchuan said, looking at the uninitiated boy and thinking: I’ll have to train him slowly.

Obediently, Xiangxi picked out the largest chestnut, peeled it, and brought it to the man’s lips. Yang Tongchuan lowered his head and took the chestnut into his mouth, lingering just long enough to catch the tips of Xiangxi’s fingers as well.

Xiangxi knew then that he had been teased again.

That night, after returning from the fair, Yang Tongchuan found it impossible to sleep. Feeling restless, he simply got out of bed. He practiced a set of boxing forms in his room to vent his “internal fire,” but as soon as he returned to bed, his mind was filled with Xiangxi’s expression—that look of being provoked but not daring to move. It suited his tastes perfectly.

He still couldn’t sleep. Finally, having tried everything else, he made a bold, unprecedented decision. He went to his desk, took out paper and brush, and began to draw the scenes from his fantasies.

Having looked at his elder brother’s “secret books” as a child, Yang Tongchuan had a photographic memory. He knew exactly how to draw the figures.

On the paper, two small figures were inseparable. One scene was in a bath barrel. One was in a wheat field. One was on the back of a galloping horse. And another… was on their wedding bed. He felt he had captured Xiangxi’s bashful expression perfectly.

His right hand drew the pictures. His left hand was also very busy. It was only when the urge finally passed that Yang Tongchuan stopped.