By the end of June, five small water mill sets were sold. After deducting the cost of materials and labor, the remaining profit was seven taels and two silver coins.

  Split evenly, Clara earned three taels and six silver coins.

  She still had three more small orders in hand, so July’s earnings were already looking solid.

  The timber used by Carpenter Liew for this batch was all sourced within Liew Clan Village. The price he paid was slightly higher than what wood merchants usually offered, which essentially meant that Clara and Carpenter Liew raised the baseline costs and passed on more profits to the villagers.

  That fifty percent profit margin from late June wouldn’t likely be repeated in July.

  Clara set a profitability floor for the business—maintain margins above thirty percent. That way, neither she nor Carpenter Liew would have to overwork, and they could afford to pay a few more hands.

  When Lester Liew found out, he muttered and complained for days, calling Clara foolish, soft-hearted, and whatnot.

  He didn’t get away with it. Clara caught him and gave him a good private lecture, making sure he understood just how treacherous people could be.

  “Do you know what the majority principle is?” Clara cornered him in the backyard by the chopping block, arms crossed, staring him down.

  Lester instinctively raised his arms to shield his head, thinking she was about to hit him again, and started chanting, “I was wrong, I was wrong, my dear, I won’t do it again!”

  She heard that line from him twice a day on average. By now she knew it was just a reflex, not sincere remorse.

  She smacked his arms down and launched into her explanation: “If someone wants to implement something new, like a policy or a business, it’ll only work if it benefits the majority. That way, people will support it and help push it forward.”

  “In our case, that ‘majority’ can mean most people—or even just the one with the most power.”

  “If we’re the only ones making money in the village while everyone else watches from the sidelines, do you really think that’s sustainable?”

  Lester blinked. How would he know?

  So Clara offered him a thought experiment: imagine Kenny Liew started a mill business and made a lot of money, bought land and houses. Now imagine Lester wanted to get in on it and asked Kenny for a job—but Kenny refused. “How would you feel?”

  Lester stayed quiet. The petty thought that flashed through his mind was best left unsaid.

  Clara smirked and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “There are plenty in this village like you. Maybe not half, but a fifth, easily.”

  And to manage that potential fifth and keep the rest on their side, she and Carpenter Liew had to keep everyone’s interests aligned.

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  The mill business was doing well enough to attract jealous eyes. If they hadn’t already set prices as low as they could go, who knows what kind of trouble might’ve come their way?

  Lester frowned. Was she calling him petty?

  Still, he asked suspiciously, “Then why doesn’t anyone resent Frank Liew’s family?”

  “Because he’s too far ahead of the rest. People can only fixate on those just slightly better off than themselves. They still think it’s achievable. But if someone’s too far ahead, they realize there’s no way to catch up and start sucking up instead.”

  Then Clara looked at him meaningfully and added, “But if you pass the exams and earn your title, all these issues disappear.”

  “You’re due to report to the academy tomorrow. Go prepare.”

  With that, she turned and went inside to sort through the books she borrowed. She planned to return them at the Ding household in Goldstone Town on the way.

  By now, Master Ding should be en route to the capital for the September examination. Whether he would succeed or not was anyone’s guess.

  After packing the books, Clara swung by the Liew family estate to ask her sisters-in-law to help look after the children the next day—just in case she didn’t make it back from the county in time.

  She also reminded Brandon Liew and his brothers to continue grinding millstones to spec. Without her help, it’d be slower and harder, but they needed to be prepared—this would be the new normal.

  The three brothers nodded. They were the toughest around and were making good money too. Many in the village envied them.

  Previously, Clara had paid by the day. Now she outsourced the task entirely—four hundred copper coins per millstone, and the brothers could manage the rest themselves.

  It wasn’t steady work—only available when orders came in—but as side income, it was quite decent.

  Leaving the estate, Clara stopped by a few households with ox carts, asking if anyone planned to head into town or the county the next day. She was hoping to hitch a ride.

  As luck would have it, Frank Liew’s family was going to town and agreed to take Clara and Lester with them if they waited at the village entrance early in the morning.

  With everything arranged, Clara finally returned home.

  Adam and the others immediately swarmed around her. Ben asked, “Mom, when will you be back?”

  “If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be back tomorrow. If not, maybe the day after,” Clara replied.

  “But don’t worry. I already told the main family. If anything happens, just head there. If you’re scared at night, ask your uncle or Ryder to sleep over. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  The four kids nodded obediently, though the thought of spending the night without either parent left them uneasy.

  They’d managed fine alone before, but somehow, now the idea of a dark, empty house was unsettling.

  Adam felt annoyed with himself for being afraid. When had he become so dependent?

  Clearly, it was that stepmother’s fault—she’d corrupted him! The little boy buried his face in his thin blanket, grumbling in silence.

  Unlike the children, Lester was downright thrilled for tomorrow.

  No more laundry, no more cooking, no more farming!

  He was so excited he woke at the crack of dawn, pulling on his newly made hemp tunic.

  Hemp-colored clothes weren’t a pure white, more of a warm ivory. Cheap, breathable, perfect for summer.

  Usually, everyone wearing hemp just blended in with the crowd—plain and poor.

  But today was special. Lester was headed to the academy. He tidied his hair, tying it up with a dark bamboo pin and covering it with a matching headscarf.

  His skin, not quite pale, still wasn’t the dark tan of a field worker. It complemented his refined features.

  His long, ink-black eyes sparkled, nose straight and high, lips full. Dressed in white, he looked almost ethereal, like a recluse poet untouched by worldly dust.

  To keep his new robe clean, he wore a deep-blue apron around his waist, sleeves rolled up, muscular arms exposed. He kneaded dough at the stove, occasionally brushing sweat from his brow with a flick of the wrist, his bright eyes catching the morning light.

  Clara opened the bedroom door and paused.

  She blinked. Closed it again. Opened it once more, eyes wide.

  Hot damn, Third Liew—you’ve really got something going on!

  (End of Chapter)

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