Clara stayed at Carpenter Liew's house until about two or three in the afternoon, hashing out every detail and redrawing the waterwheel's blueprint to scale. Only when her stomach had begun growling did she finally head home.
The noonday sun was high, and Frank Liew's fields had just been harvested. He was already burning off the wheat stubble. Across the farmlands, villagers were bustling with post-harvest work.
That wide stretch of fertile land by the river on the east side of the village all belonged to Frank Liew. Every spring planting season, villagers would show up at his door with chickens or ducks, hoping to rent some of his fields to farm.
Clara remembered Old Walter Liew's suggestion: if she wanted to rent Frank's land, she'd better act early.
But all she could think about was the back-breaking labor of harvesting just a couple of acres of wheat — her whole body screamed in protest: Run!
Forget it. Spring planting was still a while off. She'd finish building the water-powered mill first. If it didn't work out, then she could go talk to Frank. No rush.
With her mind made up, Clara threw herself completely into her watermill project.
She started by clearing a level patch of land near the northern bridge by her home, right by the riverbank.
Then she went downstream and hauled back two massive stones, each weighing nearly 100 kilograms apiece.
For the next five days, she spent nearly every waking moment — aside from meals and sleep — chipping and shaping those stones with a pickaxe.
By the end, she'd crafted two circular millstones: each about 80 cm in diameter and 20 cm thick.
After chiseling a hole through the center of each one, she fitted in the axle and a wooden crank arm. Just like that, her grinding stone was ready.
Around the same time, word came from Carpenter Liew: all the parts for the waterwheel were ready. He sent someone to fetch her so they could assemble it together and avoid any mistakes.
After breakfast, Clara headed back over, and she and the carpenter spent the entire day in his courtyard, piecing together a waterwheel as tall as a person.
The axle was ready too. Eager to see it in action, they barely paused for a rushed dinner before hauling the entire setup — wheel and axle — down to the riverbank.
The villagers had just finished their evening meals and were free. They'd been curious about Clara's activity by the river all week. Now, seeing her and Carpenter Liew carrying equipment down to the river, a small crowd began to gather.
By the time they arrived, almost every idle villager had shown up.
Even Clara's extended family from the old Liew house came over. Without needing to be asked, her older brothers and sisters-in-law jumped in to help — mostly out of curiosity about what Clara had been up to.
The adults shooed the kids back, and under Clara's direction, they lowered the waterwheel into the river channel she had cleared. Large rocks were used to secure the base. The wheel stabilized and began turning smoothly with the current.
That was only the first step. Next came connecting the millstone and axle system.
This part could only be done by Clara and Carpenter Liew — no one else could help.
Thankfully, Clara had the strength for it. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to lift the heavy wooden components.
Once the assembly was complete, Clara gave everything a firm shake. Satisfied with its sturdiness, she hauled over a giant stone she had pre-positioned nearby and blocked the river's flow, stopping the wheel. Then she connected the far end of the axle to the millstone, wedging blocks of wood into the gaps to tighten the joint.
By the time they finished, dusk had fallen, and only a smudge of orange sunset remained on the horizon.
Far from dispersing, the crowd on the bridge had only grown.
Even the village chief and Frank Liew had been drawn by the commotion. Lester arrived from home with a burning torch, adding much-needed light to the riverside clearing.
Clara waded into the water and heaved the blocking stone aside. As soon as it was clear, she scrambled back up the bank.
Whoosh! The river surged into the narrow channel, water roaring and crashing with force. The waterwheel sprang to life, spinning faster and faster. It powered the axle, transferring motion to the wooden crank, and finally to the millstone — which slowly began to turn.
"It's turning! It's really turning!" Carpenter Liew shouted in excitement.
Clara rushed forward to check the millstone. The rotation speed was decent — likely because of the river's high flow tonight.
"It's actually moving on its own?" the village chief stepped forward, and everyone made way for him.
Clara nodded with a smile and told Lester to bring down the freshly sifted wheat.
Lester was more excited than anyone. He dashed off to fetch it, thrilled beyond words. He'd watched Clara fiddle by the river for nearly a week — and now she had built a functioning water-powered mill! That alone was worth bragging about for the next six months.
"I've got it!" he yelled as he returned, carrying two buckets — one full of wheat, the other empty.
Smart guy. He even thought to bring an empty one to catch the flour.
Clara took the full bucket, grabbed a handful of wheat, and dropped it into the hole at the center of the grinding stone.
Crunch, crunch, crunch — the millstone ground the grain down with steady groans.
Soon, the crushed wheat began to tumble into a wooden trough beside the stone, then down a slope into the waiting bucket.
The village chief couldn't hold back. He grabbed a scoop of wheat and dumped it in himself.
With one pass through the grinder, the crushed grains poured out. After two more passes, it would be fine wheat flour.
Night had fully fallen. The torches along the riverbank flickered, casting warm light over the gathered crowd. Every so often, excited voices would ring out from the center.
"This is faster than hand grinding — and way less tiring! Clara, how did you come up with this genius thing?"
Clara replied that she'd read about it in a book. Then, casually, she tested the waters: "If I made this available for public use, would you be interested — for a small fee?"
Peddler Liew sprang up from the crowd. "Clara, would you be willing to let everyone use this watermill?"
Then, worried she'd think he meant to freeload, he quickly added, "Of course, we'd pay! Just name your price — I'm sure we'd all be more than happy."
Lester tugged at Clara's sleeve. "Something this good? We should definitely charge more!"
Clara hadn't yet figured out a pricing scheme, but seeing the crowd's eagerness, she called out, "It's too late tonight, and this mill's not quite finished. Give me a couple of days to finalize things and post a notice — I'll let everyone know the terms."
The villagers nodded. The setup was still rough — not even a shelter for the mill. If it rained, the grain could get soaked.
They told Clara to be sure to post a sign with the rules once everything was ready. Everyone was looking forward to using her watermill.
Frank Liew was especially eager. With so much grain to process, he'd already hired five people just to grind wheat. If he could use Clara's watermill instead, it would save a ton of labor.
He'd only need one person to watch the machine and pour in the grain — all the others could be freed up for other tasks.
Some villagers began asking Carpenter Liew if he could build them a mill of their own.
Carpenter Liew shook his head. "Something like this costs at least two taels of silver for the wood alone. That doesn't even include the grinding stones — Clara carved those herself out of giant rocks she hauled back from the river."
At that, the villagers immediately gave up on the idea of making their own.
Two taels of silver? That kind of money could feed a whole family for a long time. Who would spend it on a mill? Madness!
(End of Chapter)
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