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墨書 Inktalez
It was Xiao Ye who brought the gardener before him. Just a moment ago, the girl had said she wanted to go out to play, but soon she returned, bouncing with excitement and pushed a man toward him, saying, “Dad! This uncle says he’s here to apply for a job!”
The man, wearing somewhat worn cloth shoes, looked quite awkward. After the girl walked away, he hesitantly spoke in a thick accent, “I can plant flowers.”
This statement reminded him of how long he had been looking for a gardener for the yard but had yet to find anyone suitable. He quickly wiped his wet hands on his apron and approached to invite the man to sit down and offer him a cup of water. However, as he walked over, the man actually took a few steps back, shaking his head and repeating his earlier statement.
He could tell that this man was a farmer; his dark skin and rough hands indicated that he had spent many years working in the fields. Although his clothes were old, they were clean, and only his shoes appeared tattered from much wear. Moreover, since the Jiang family courtyard was a private residence, anyone visiting such a secluded estate for the first time would naturally feel nervous.
He reached out and grasped the man's hand, forcibly pulling him into a chair. After handing him a cup of tea, he sat beside him and asked gently why he had come to the city to seek a living.
“There was a disaster in the village; a mountain flood buried my home, and everyone died. I was in the city buying supplies at the time, so I survived,” the man replied succinctly, almost answering one question at a time while keeping his gaze fixed on the ground and sitting straight with his hands tightly gripping his pants.
“This yard is mainly looking for a gardener; we provide food and accommodation. If you can plant flowers, you can stay. If not, I can arrange for you to work in another position. My name is Chen Meng; I’m the steward here, and everyone calls me Uncle Meng.”
Perhaps it was his gentle demeanor that made the man relax. He saw him take out an ID card wrapped in plastic from his pocket and push it toward him. “My name is Yang Guang; I can plant flowers. There’s a flower business in my village.”
The steward smiled as he accepted the ID card and stood up. “Have you eaten? Let’s grab something to eat in the garden. I’ll show you around and let you know where you’ll be staying. If you need any daily necessities, just tell me; we’ll take care of everything except your personal items.”
The honest farmer took everything seriously. Sometimes his stubbornness led to conflicts with others in the yard; when someone who couldn’t articulate their thoughts argued with him, he would sit by the flowerbed with a stern face, rarely retorting but also not complying with their wishes.
Whenever such incidents occurred, it was Uncle Meng who resolved them. This time was no exception. He had never been angry with anyone before and managed to persuade those wanting to pick flowers away with just a few words. Once they left, he squatted beside the gardener and explained what had happened earlier, urging him not to be upset.
The gardener looked up at this kind man who had always treated him gently and said flatly that he wasn’t angry. Upon hearing this, the man smiled even more brightly and murmured that it was good he wasn’t angry. He also mentioned that the cook would be making dumplings for everyone that evening and encouraged him to come early.
However, the man was always busy; just as he turned to leave again, Yang Guang felt reluctant to see him go. Before he could fully straighten up, Uncle Meng bent down slowly again, one hand clutching his stomach as he breathed strangely. The gardener quickly got up to support him and noticed that he was frowning in pain, taking deep breaths while beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
Not long after arriving here, an older employee had given him some medicine and mentioned that the steward often suffered from stomach pains; if they saw him clutching his stomach, they should remember to offer him a pill. But today he hadn’t taken any; the medicine lay on the table in the break room, which was quite far from here.
The steward always wore a suit; as Yang Guang helped him toward a resting chair, he felt how cold Uncle Meng’s body was when their hands touched. Perhaps it was because of his frail constitution that he caught cold easily and experienced stomach pains. Thinking this way without considering whether Uncle Meng would mind or not, he rubbed his hands together to warm them before placing them on his indeed very cold belly.
“When I caught cold and had stomach pains, my mother used to do this,” Yang Guang said softly. “Once you feel better, I’ll go get you some medicine.”
The steward was very thin; there wasn’t even an ounce of extra flesh on his belly—his hands nearly covered its entirety.
The warmth radiating from Yang Guang’s hands spread throughout Uncle Meng’s body and effectively alleviated his pain. As he lay back on the chair looking at the gardener, Uncle Meng softly said thank you. The honest farmer didn’t show much expression but pulled back his hands only to rub them together again before placing them back on Uncle Meng’s belly: “You’ve been good to me; it’s only right.”
It was likely this incident that brought Yang Guang closer to Uncle Meng; whenever he went into the garden now, regardless of whether Uncle Meng felt well or not, he would warm up his hands again to help ease his discomfort. Because of this connection between them, they smoothly ended up lying together on one bed.
Although things went well before getting into bed, there were still some twists along the way.
One night while picking flowers in the garden, Yang Guang saw Uncle Meng still diligently weeding away as it approached midnight. He called out for him to rest and finish tomorrow instead. The quiet man did stop working but followed closely behind him as if there was something he wanted to say.
“I’ll take the flowers inside first; will you wait for me in your room? I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”
When he returned, he saw the gardener sitting on the edge of the bed, holding an intricately designed bracelet with a serious expression on his face.
"What’s wrong?" he asked as he sat down beside him, noticing the gardener offering the bracelet to him.
"This is my mother's keepsake and the most valuable thing I own. It was meant for my fiancée, but she was buried in a landslide. You have treated me the best since I came here, and I really like you. But since you have a daughter, you probably don’t like men, so please accept this bracelet as my way of repaying you."
The butler listened intently, surprised yet unsure whether to feel shocked or pleased. In truth, he also had feelings for the gardener, which is why he always made time to visit the garden to chat and relax, even just watching him tend to the flowers made him happy.
Now that the matter was laid bare, he no longer held back. He unbuttoned his suit jacket to reveal a gruesome scar on his abdomen for the gardener to see.
"My daughter is my biological child." This statement clearly startled the gardener, who stared at him in confusion, blinking repeatedly. The butler realized he needed to explain further: "I had her because although I appear male, my body is both male and female. I've never been married; I don’t even know who her biological father is—he was just someone whose seed I borrowed to have a child."
He gently pushed the bracelet back towards the gardener. "I really like you and have thought about how you might feel if I expressed my feelings for you. Hearing you say this today makes me very happy. I'm ten years older than you and am what they call a 'yin-yang person.' If you think I'm unclean because of that, just pretend tonight never happened..."
He shared with the gardener about how he had once paid workers for certain services, his voice trembling with emotion as tears filled his eyes. He had lived half his life under the shadow of that experience, which had kept him from seeking companionship all these years. The harsh words from that worker had robbed him of confidence in loving someone else.
Before he could wipe away his tears, rough hands cupped his face. Looking up, he saw the gardener leaning closer and heard him say, "You are clean. I haven’t been educated much and don’t understand what a yin-yang person is; it doesn’t matter to me whether you have both male and female parts—I just like you. Your daughter is yours no matter what; losing your uterus is significant, and if you're often in pain now, it’s likely because you didn’t recover well after surgery. I’ve never been with anyone; if you don’t want to do anything, that’s fine—I’m content just holding you. Wear the bracelet; my mother will know and will surely protect you."
Upon hearing this, the butler cried even harder as if releasing years of pent-up emotions. He held onto the gardener tightly, burying his head in the man’s broad shoulder while feeling gentle pats on his back.
Once he had cried enough, he asked the gardener not to sleep yet and went to take a shower while waiting for him. He retrieved lubricant and condoms from his room and also made sure to clean himself thoroughly. The gardener had never done anything like this before, and neither had he.
When he returned to the gardener's room, he found the man only wearing underwear and drying his hair; water droplets slid down his strong physique, looking far more attractive than any fitness model.
The butler slowly removed his own clothes until only his underwear remained before reaching out to grasp the gardener's package. The gardener initially protested but then accepted a condom handed to him as the butler knelt on the bed and began pleasuring him: "If it’s you, I’m willing."
Neither of them knew much about anal sex, but the butler had more knowledge than the gardener did. He guided him gently to use his lubricated fingers on himself; it was painful at first with two fingers inside him, yet there was sensation—he could feel moisture dripping from places he hadn’t intended to use.
The gardener was incredibly gentle as if treating this person in his arms like a delicate flower—he didn’t dare apply too much pressure. His slender hands helped bring pleasure in a way that felt entirely different; it had been so long since he had experienced this kind of touch that simply being stimulated made him hard.
But he was afraid—afraid of hurting the butler—so he let him guide every action.
Once all four fingers were comfortably inside the butler without any movement at first, he watched as pleasure overtook him; soon enough, he put on a condom and turned into a kneeling position facing him: "Go ahead; I want you."
The man’s body felt tight and warm; experiencing this for the first time made the gardener instantly addicted. He grasped the butler's slender waist instinctively pushing deeper inside him. The fragrance of flowers in the room mixed with their own scents and created an intoxicating atmosphere filled with desire.
Due to not having done this in a long time, he couldn’t last long inside the butler. When he finally stopped moving, the butler slowly collapsed onto the bed; watching his chest rise and fall rapidly filled him with panic—he feared that he might have hurt him.
Not having time to worry about the condom still stuck on him, he embraced the butler anxiously asking what was wrong. The flushed face breathing through his mouth smiled softly as he leaned against him: "It feels good; being with you feels good."
With that said, the butler wrapped around him and fell into a deep sleep while leaving him cautiously kissing those soft lips. Looking at their disheveled bed sheets, after discarding the condom and cleaning himself up, the gardener dressed quickly before gently covering the butler with a clean blanket and changing out all of their sheets.
Just as he was about to wash up himself, someone called out softly from outside. Stepping out, he found the butler's daughter blushing as she handed him a bag filled with items while unable to contain her laughter: "Daddy Flower! Remember to help my dad clean up after you're done; there’s lubricant inside which can cause infections if not washed off properly! After washing up just apply some medicine for him! You both should rest early; give me those sheets—I’ll throw them in the washing machine! Here’s some medicine."
He felt envious of the butler for having such strength yet gentleness while maintaining an imperfect yet happy family. Now it seemed that he too had become part of that family.
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