Having a horse really did make a difference. Clara no longer needed to set out before dawn with a torch just to reach Willowridge County Town from Liew Clan Village.
She had breakfast and left at a steady gallop. Within an hour, the gates of the county town came into view.
After paying the entrance and livestock fees, she left her horse at the "parking lot" by the gate and checked the sky—just midday, right in time for the break period. Without delay, she headed straight for the academy to find Lester Liew.
To Lester, it hadn't been many days since they parted, yet Clara was already here again.
He wasn't at the academy when she arrived. Clara waited near the back gate for quite a while before a few figures appeared, chatting and laughing as they walked together.
Leading the group were two men—one in his early twenties, the other around thirty—each trailed by a young page boy.
Following them was the source of the laughter—Lester.
He was still in the same white robe he'd worn when leaving home, though clearly washed once since, now paler in color. Without his good looks, the plain fabric would've made him look completely shabby next to the other two, whose cotton scholar robes were embroidered with elegant patterns.
But when it came to sweet-talking others, Lester's mouth was a deadly weapon—as long as he wasn't aiming it at his own family, people found him downright charming.
As if sensing something, Lester suddenly glanced sideways—and locked eyes with Clara, standing quietly in the corner.
His breath hitched at once.
He quickly ushered the two young scholars inside the academy and then snuck out the back gate to Clara, asking nervously, "Darling, what brings you here?"
Thank goodness he'd just gotten rid of that pipa-playing courtesan from the restaurant who'd tried to tag along with the scholars. Had she still been here… tsk, Lester could already imagine his tragic fate.
Clara scanned him up and down. A faint trace of perfume wafted from him. She waved the scent away with a flick of her hand and crossed her arms, chuckling coldly.
Before she could even ask, Lester launched into a hasty explanation. "Don't get the wrong idea! I swear I haven't done anything disloyal. This was just socializing. You don't know how tight-lipped those two scholars are—it took days of persuasion before they agreed to lend their past exam answers for me to copy!"
It wasn't hard to get copies of past civil exam questions; the teachers at the academy had collections. But getting the answers, especially those written by scholars who'd actually passed—now that was tricky. The exam scripts weren't made public. Only the officials in charge of grading them knew the details.
Clara found his panic rather amusing. "Why are you so nervous? It's not like I'm going to hit you."
Lester mumbled under his breath, "But you've thought about it!"
She waved him over and lowered her voice. "I need you to ask your classmates about something for me."
Lester leaned in, listening intently as Clara explained her need to find out whether small private workshops required official registration or tax filing.
"What? You're really building a workshop?" he exclaimed.
Clara nodded and waved him off. "Go on, I'll wait here. Ask around. I need to be sure before heading to the Office."
And just in case, Clara decided she should also drop by and ask Manager Fan at the restaurant.
After watching Lester vanish back into the academy, she turned and walked off toward the eatery.
"You again! Ah, having a horse really changes things," Manager Fan said, barely looking up from his busy work. He pointed to the backyard, signaling her to wait there.
It was the lunch rush. Clara waited quite a while before Manager Fan had a moment to step out.
Not wasting time, Clara asked directly whether regular folks building a small workshop needed to register it with the authorities and pay business tax.
"You're asking the right guy!" Manager Fan laughed heartily. "The new laws have relaxed a lot of restrictions on merchants. For the kind of small-scale workshop you're talking about, there's no need to file with the Office. Just notify the village head and make sure you're not doing anything illegal."
"That simple?" Clara blinked in surprise.
Manager Fan nodded. "After years of war, the country needs peace and recovery. The state wants to revive grassroots activity—so the first step was to loosen restrictions on commerce."
These days, the civil administration was actively encouraging commercial ventures. The harsh treatment merchants suffered under the previous dynasty was now a thing of the past.
Willowridge County Town's rising prosperity in recent years owed a great deal to its countless small traders and vendors.
With a clear answer in hand, Clara felt much more confident as she returned to the academy.
Soon, Lester slipped out again and confirmed the same thing.
He'd also learned one more useful detail: under current laws, small-scale businesses with fewer than twenty workers and yearly earnings below five hundred taels were exempt from taxes—for now.
But it was only a temporary exemption. When it might end, no one knew.
"You're really building a watermill factory?" Lester asked excitedly.
Clara saw right through that look—he was already dreaming of coming home to freeload again.
Her voice turned cold. "Exactly because I'm building it, you need to study harder and win honors. That way, you can protect our family business."
"Got it, got it." Lester's brow arched. She said "our family," so clearly, he had a share in this mill!
Afternoon classes were about to begin. Seeing that Clara had no intention of leaving, Lester finally realized something.
Tentatively, he asked, "You're not going?"
"I'll wait till your class ends so we can leave together," Clara said casually. "You go on—I'll wander the town and come back for you later."
She spoke as if it were only natural and even planned out his leave. "Remember to ask your teacher for time off. It's almost the Ghost Festival, right? Combine that with the harvest leave—it should give us five days. Just enough to finish the rice harvest."
The mere mention of harvesting made Lester's face scrunch with dread. He wanted to delay returning, arguing he could use the time to finish copying those test answers from the scholars.
Clara shook her head. "I'm busy right now. We need to finish harvesting before I can focus on building the factory. The plan has changed. I've given you extra time already. Just go request leave. And don't worry—I won't kill you for not bringing those sample answers home."
"…Fine!" With that assurance, he was finally at ease.
Lester returned to class and later got permission for his leave.
Meanwhile, Clara roamed the town, buying 250g of salt, a bottle of rapeseed oil, a jug of soy paste, and 2kg of meat.
Since the heat made storing meat difficult, she didn't buy too much.
But with her horse, traveling to town was quick. Whenever they craved meat, it'd be easy to come back for more.
Knowing the autumn harvest would be exhausting, Clara also treated herself to a spread of pastries from a local bakery.
Green bean cakes, glutinous rice dumplings with brown sugar, candied lotus seeds, sesame lotus-flower crisps—all made with seasonal ingredients, fresh and tempting.
She even found a drink shop selling all kinds of refreshments: sugarcane water, sour plum tea, mung bean soup, plum wine, and an intriguing one labeled "Snow Foam Stomach Soother."
The variety stunned Clara.
She had always thought ancient folks didn't drink beverages—but not only did they, they had a stunning array.
That "Snow Foam Soother" sounded especially exotic. She'd never even heard of it. It looked quite refined.
When she met Lester again outside the academy, she asked him what it was.
Turns out—it was just iced herbal tea.
(End of Chapter)
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