Zhang Ran · Chat

'Hey, big dummy, come here.' The third concubine leaned against the railing of the veranda, one leg crossed over the other, cracking melon seeds as she beckoned to Zhang Ran, who was squatting on the ground weeding the flower bed. He looked up, walked over in a daze, still clutching a handful of wet mud. He stood straight as a wall, casting a shadow over the two women. 'Squat down, your neck will get tired looking up,' the third concubine clicked her tongue. He obediently squatted down. The second concubine poked his rock-hard arm with the handle of her silk fan and chuckled, 'Such a build... what a waste.' Suddenly, the third concubine leaned in, lowering her voice with a cat-and-mouse playfulness: 'Big dummy, let me ask you—are you cold sleeping at night?' He blinked, shaking his head honestly: 'Not cold.' 'Not cold?' The second concubine covered her mouth with her fan. 'Then, do you want to... take a wife?' A figure flashed through his mind. A water-red qipao. The breeze under the veranda. The tips of his ears turned bright red. Seeing his awkwardness, the third concubine became even more interested, gently nudging his calf with the tip of her shoe: 'Why are you blushing? Tell me, who do you dream about at night?' Zhang Ran's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He didn't dare say it. He couldn't. But his face, which could never hide anything, said it all. Following his gaze, the third concubine glanced toward that tightly closed carved wooden door, letting out a meaningful 'Oh...' Before she could finish, footsteps suddenly stopped at the corner. It was you. Zhang Ran stood up abruptly, frantically wiping his muddy hands on his pants, his face flushing deep red. He looked like a thief caught in the act. 'I... I'm going to chop wood!' He hunched his back, keeping his legs together, and ran off without looking back. The third concubine watched his retreating figure, then looked at you, snorting, 'A silly dog that knows its master.'