Around four thirty in the morning, Clara and Lester were already up.
After a night's sleep, Lester's arms—numb just yesterday—were now sore and aching. His legs felt like lead. As he stepped off the threshold, a sharp pain shot up and he gasped from the sting.
That's what happens when someone who never exercises suddenly start on heavy farmwork. Clara nodded, fully understanding, then handed him the sickle. "Let's go."
They ate a quick bite to fill their stomachs, packed some food and water for lunch, and headed out.
Clara carried the shoulder pole and rope. On her head, she wore a veil hat she had borrowed from Doreen—wide-brimmed to block the sun, with cloth hanging down to her chest to keep out bugs. Only her eyes were exposed.
She had also changed into light shoes and socks, with her pant legs tucked into the socks and tied tight with straps. With experience now, she was fully geared up this time.
Leaving the Liew Clan Village, they walked for nearly an hour before reaching their plot.
By now, this land was practically on the edge of the neighboring village. Around them were reclaimed fields that clearly belonged to the villagers next door.
When they arrived, folks from the neighboring village were already hard at work in the fields.
They weren't familiar with each other, so no greetings were exchanged. Everyone just got to work.
Clara took one look at the field and finally understood why Lester had brought home so much grass mixed with the wheat yesterday.
Because the whole field was full of weeds! As far as the eye could see—grass, grass, and more grass.
Honestly, the fact that any wheat had managed to grow here at all was already a miracle.
Still, with two acres' worth of wheat, they could probably harvest close to 25kg.
Lester had already cut one acre yesterday. With Clara now handling bundling and transport, he went straight to cutting the second.
Every time Clara finished bundling a load, she carried it back alone with the shoulder pole.
Walking solo made her faster. In two and a half hours, she'd made two full round trips. By then, Lester had just finished cutting the last of the wheat and was sitting in the shade munching on the food they brought from home.
Clara set down the load, sat beside him, and they ate and rested.
After they finished eating, Clara gave Lester the look. He had been planning to sprawl out and nap, but under her pressure, he was forced to his feet to help bundle the wheat.
"Move faster," Clara snapped. "The sooner we're done, the sooner we can go home and rest. Otherwise don't blame me for slapping you right here."
Lester was too exhausted to argue. He simply nodded, and though his movements were still sluggish, they did speed up.
By late afternoon, the last two bundles were finally tied up. Each carried one load back. At long last, those two acres of wheat were fully harvested.
Back at home, Adam and his siblings had stayed in all day. After practicing their writing and finishing lunch, they got to work on the wheat their parents had already brought back.
They picked out the weeds, used a wooden mallet to shake the grain loose, and laid it all out in the courtyard to dry.
Honestly, the kids were even more skilled at it than Clara and Lester.
Chad and Deb, who had both grown soft, delicate skin over the winter, now had red marks all over their faces from wheat bristles and stray weeds.
But neither of them complained. They just followed their big brothers around, picking out the weeds bit by bit. When their small hands couldn't hold anymore, they'd take the pile to the firewood shed—those dried grasses were still useful for kindling.
As the sun dipped halfway behind the mountain, Clara and Lester returned home carrying the final bundles.
The moment they set them down, they saw Chad and Deb helping their brothers collect the sun-dried wheat, making sure the morning dew wouldn't soak it again overnight. Otherwise, all that drying would've been for nothing.
After all the weeds had been picked out, there wasn't much wheat left. Even two large baskets weren't filled to the brim.
Clara fetched a basin of cool water to wash her hands and face. When she saw the kids' flushed little cheeks, her heart ached a bit.
"Come here. Wash your faces," she called to them. "Leave the baskets, I'll bring them in later."
The four kids came running with smiles. Clara rinsed their hands first, then filled another clean basin for their faces.
Chad and Deb giggled happily, gazing up at Clara and softly calling out, "Mommy~"
Clara's eyes lit up. Chad actually called her 'Mama' too!
Her heart turned to mush. She bent down and planted a big kiss on each of their cheeks.
Chad's face turned even redder. He ducked behind his sister shyly, with only his bright eyes peeking out.
Deb touched her kissed cheek in a daze, then grinned silly. She was already clingy by nature, but now she grabbed Clara's robe like a little koala and refused to let go.
Adam and Ben exchanged a knowing glance and stifled their laughter.
Meanwhile, Lester had already slipped into the kitchen, rummaged out the white sugar, and mixed himself a big bowl of sweet-and-sour sugar water. He drank most of it in one go, let out a loud burp, and sprawled flat on the ground in front of the stove, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep.
Clara couldn't take it anymore and landed a solid punch on him!
Lester had spent enough time around Clara to develop reflexes. He dodged just enough that the fist missed his face—but his shoulder took the full hit. He yelped as he toppled to the floor.
"You're not cooking?" Clara growled.
Farmwork had clearly worn her down. Seeing Lester lazing about only made her angrier.
But Lester stayed on the ground, moaning like he was dying and refusing to move.
In the end, Adam and Ben stepped in, worried their dad might actually get beaten to death by their stepmother.
Lester was deeply moved. "Adam, Ben… having you boys is your dad's biggest blessing!"
After eating well all winter, nine-year-old Adam had shot up in height. He didn't even need a stool to reach the stove now.
He asked Ben to help stoke the fire. The two little boys got to cooking like miniature adults.
"Are you tired, mommy?" Deb asked sweetly.
Clara gave her a warm smile. "Not tired." Then she walked over, picked Lester up, and tossed him into the main room like a sack of rice. No patience left to deal with him today.
She'd been worked to the bone too. No energy for more back-and-forth with that rascal.
With the kids cooking, Clara sat down and rested. Chad and Deb nestled on either side of her, gently pounding on her legs.
Their tiny hands had no strength, but every tap warmed her heart. Clara closed her eyes and sighed.
"Another beautiful day."
Lester, still lying on the floor, was beyond words: If envy were a crime, I'd be sentenced for life…
Adam and Ben made a wild veggie porridge, perfectly seasoned. Clara polished off five big bowls.
Recharged after dinner, she left the dishes to the four kids and dragged Lester into the courtyard.
They still had to separate the wheat from the weeds so it could be laid out to dry tomorrow.
After the earlier punch, Lester had learned his lesson. He behaved himself, grimacing through the pain. The two of them lit a lantern and worked in silence until midnight, finishing the sorting and threshing before finally heading to bed.
A full day of hard labor knocked them out cold—they slept like rocks.
For the next two days, the sun was strong. All the wheat was laid out on old mats in the yard to dry. Clara and Lester took half-day shifts flipping it regularly so it dried evenly.
Compared to cutting wheat, this was a breeze.
Now there was only one step left—dehusking.
The good news: the wheat came up to just under 50kg—enough to fill two baskets.
The bad news: the stone mill was manual.
(End of Chapter)
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