Every autumn after the harvest, the village chief would select a few strong men from each village to help transport grain to the county town.
This year, Brandon Liew was appointed as the leader of the Liew Clan Village's grain convoy to Willowridge County. On his return, he even brought back a skewer of candied hawthorn for each of his cousins—Ryder and Rosie.
The two siblings spent days showing off around the village.
Back then, Adam and his siblings were still living in utter poverty—their mother gone, their father neglectful—and that glimpse of sugar-coated delight had burned itself into their hearts.
But this time, not only would they get to eat candied hawthorn, their father and stepmother were taking them into town to buy it themselves.
The next morning, the four siblings woke up fully rested and excited. After quickly greeting Clara, who was already out in the yard working out, they charged down the hill and made a beeline for the village well.
They found Ryder and Rosie playing there and proudly announced that they were going to the county town in a few days.
Ryder and Rosie didn't believe them, calling it a lie.
Adam lifted his chin. "My Dad already went to ask the village chief to borrow the ox cart. It's true!"
He was definitely showing off a bit.
Deb added with a grin, "We're gonna buy our own candied hawthorn in town!"
The other children nearby stared at them with wide eyes, full of envy.
One asked Deb if she could bring some back for them to try.
Others begged Adam and Ben to come back with stories of everything fun and tasty in the county.
It was the first time the four siblings had ever been surrounded by so many peers. Until recently, no one wanted to play with them.
Only Ryder and Rosie, due to being relatives, would occasionally say a few words.
Kids could be brutally pragmatic. They didn't have the filters or facades adults used. What they liked or didn't like, they said straight out—and often, they didn't hide their meanness either.
Now that the Liew siblings lived in a tile-roofed house, and even had parents taking them to the county town, suddenly everyone wanted to be friendly.
But kids didn't hold grudges for long either. When they were nice, it was genuine.
Soon enough, Deb had joined Rosie and a group of girls in a game of make-believe, playing house.
The boys—Adam, Ben, and Chad—grabbed tree branches and declared they were going to the river to catch fish with Ryder and the other village boys.
The river was much colder now than it had been a month ago. They only dared to stand on rocks near the edge.
Previously, Adam had always failed at spearfishing, but this time, he actually speared one.
"Pa! Auntie Clara!"
The three boys came thundering back home, waving their prize—a few small fish, barely the width of three fingers.
Adam's eyes lit up. "I caught a fish!"
Lester came over, pleasantly surprised. "Deep fry 'em till they're crispy, add some water and veggies… green veggie fish soup for dinner—meat again tonight!"
Just saying it made his mouth water.
Lucky for him, he had a handsome face—anyone else drooling like that would look downright sleazy.
Clara wasn't surprised at all. Adam had always been patient. He never gave up, and after enough tries, persistence would inevitably pay off.
Still, when a kid worked hard and succeeded, you had to praise them.
Clara gave Adam a warm smile. "Looks like whether we get to eat meat every night now depends on you."
The boy scratched his head, bashful but beaming, and nodded firmly. "Mm-hmm!" He'd do his best.
In the days that followed, Clara began waking Adam and Ben early to join her for morning exercise.
They ran two laps around the village each morning.
Clara would return barely winded, already sitting at the doorway munching on a steamed bun, while the two boys stumbled back across the bridge, panting like they were dying.
After breakfast and a short break, Clara would line the four siblings up in the main hall. She'd pull out a wooden board, grab a charred stick from the stove, and start from the very first line of the Three Character Classic, teaching them a new phrase each day.
Lester raised his eyebrows—he already knew Clara could read, but he hadn't expected her to actually teach the kids.
It wasn't that he didn't understand the value of education. He just knew a harsh truth:
If you can't give someone everything, sometimes it's better they never learn what they're missing.
The ignorant didn't feel the sting of disappointment.
"What's the point of learning to read in a family like ours? No use for it," Lester muttered as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, sipping rice soup.
Clara had sharp ears and caught every word. She warned Adam and Ben to focus, then gave Lester a cold, dangerous side-eye.
"Knowledge is useful in every aspect of life. And you're saying it's not?"
Lester lowered his head and quietly drank his soup. No comeback.
Learning didn't have to be about chasing fame or fortune, right?
Then, naturally, he decided to make fun of Clara's handwriting. From the way he spoke, you'd think his own was some kind of national treasure.
Clearly, it had been too many days since he got smacked back into place.
Clara calmly picked up the charred fire stick and lobbed it with perfect accuracy—whack—right into Lester's kneecap. He nearly dropped to his knees on the spot.
That shut him up.
Since they had no paper or ink, each child got a charred stick to practice writing on the wooden board.
And wow, kids really did have sharp minds—Adam and his siblings picked things up fast.
Unfortunately… they forgot just as fast.
Each night before bed, Clara would test them. They could write and recite just fine.
Come morning? Wiped clean.
But reading and writing was all about repetition. On day three, Clara simply started over—Day 1 and Day 2 included.
Ben whined and said he'd rather go run laps again.
Clara didn't even blink. "Then go."
Ben: "…"
"…I-I'll stick with reading, thanks."
Lester, hiding in the kitchen by the stove to avoid chores, burst out laughing.
That night, Ben, Chad, and Deb lay on their bed, groaning about how hard it was to learn to read.
Adam pulled them up and scolded them seriously:
"This kind of chance—other people beg for it and don't get it. But we have it. Auntie Clara doesn't keep anything to herself—she's teaching us martial arts and reading. If Ryder and Rosie knew, they'd be green with envy! And you don't want to learn?"
The three younger ones fell silent, then slowly nodded. He was right.
If they could grow up to be as awesome as Stepmother—even fight bears—they'd be so cool!
With that thought, their attitudes shifted. The next morning, they even started reviewing lessons together in whispers before breakfast, reminding one another what they'd learned.
By the time the trip to town came around, the four siblings could already recite the lines:
"People at birth are naturally good. Their natures are similar, but habits make them different."
But… those phrases were a little too abstract for them to understand.
Clara looked troubled, trying to figure out how to explain.
Lester, bored and lounging nearby, offered lazily, "Why not start with stuff around the house? Easier to remember. Easier to understand."
Clara turned to look at him—That's right! "You're onto something. Lester, you'll teach the next lessons. I'll check everyone's progress weekly."
"Weekly"—that was a term Clara had introduced. Before she came, no one in the house had any concept of a seven-day week.
Even if they didn't understand where it came from, the kids had already accepted that anything their stepmother said had to be right.
Lester understood too—he slapped his own mouth in regret. Should've kept it shut!
Still, he nodded and agreed meekly on the outside.
But as soon as he turned around, he met four pairs of skeptical eyes.
Lester gave a cold snort. He was tempted to just wing it.
But then a new idea sparked—Fine! Let's see who dares say your Dad's useless now! I'll show these little ungrateful brats how capable their old man really is!
(End of Chapter)
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