As soon as Lester Liew stepped into the main hall and set down the oil-paper parcel in his hands, Ryder and Rosie came bounding up to him. "Third Uncle! Third Auntie!"
"Heh?" Lester raised a brow, rubbing their little heads fondly. Then he opened the package to reveal a pile of fragrant pastries. "Go on, take some."
The siblings eagerly grabbed one each and were about to scurry off when Old Walter Liew barked, "You haven't thanked your uncle yet! No manners!"
Startled, they hurried back, gave a solemn bow, and chimed in unison, "Thank you, Third Uncle!"
Only after glancing at their grandfather's softened expression did they finally take a bite of the pastries with great relish.
It was a festival day, and work in the old household's fields had only taken up the morning. The rest of the day was for resting and celebrating.
The harvested rice was spread out across bamboo mats in the yard, leaving barely any space to walk—everyone simply stepped across the drying grains. Several children had gathered to play, kicking rice everywhere, which made Martha Liew snap, "Out! Go play by the village well!"
The kids didn't leave but did stop running, instead squatting by the threshold to play with pebbles.
Clara placed the bowl of new rice she'd brought in the center of the courtyard altar and borrowed three sticks of incense. She lit them and handed them to Lester to bow three times before inserting them into the holder, completing the offering.
Kate eyed the bowl of new rice with envy. "These grains look perfect."
Her belly had become quite pronounced now, and she wasn't allowed to do heavy labor anymore. But with the harvest in full swing, every hand was needed. To free up a laborer, she insisted on staying home to manage the meals for the entire household.
People had long been craving Doreen's cooking, but today being a festival, they'd swapped duties.
Clara glanced at her sister-in-law's belly—it looked like half a basketball strapped to her waist. Her limbs were still lean, but all the weight had gone to her bump.
"Second Sister-in-law, you're due around the twelfth lunar month, right?" Clara asked curiously.
Kate nodded. "More or less. Probably early in the twelfth month. It's the off-season for farming, just right. This little one picked a smart time."
She rubbed her belly, hesitated, and then finally asked, just as Clara was about to head to the kitchen to check on the food.
"You and Carpenter Liew are building a watermill workshop, right? You'll be hiring a lot of workers?"
Clara nodded. "We'll need about a dozen—stone grinders, carpenters, that sort of thing."
She already guessed where this was going.
Sure enough, Kate wanted to recommend two boys—one from her aunt's side, one from her mother's. Both were fifteen or sixteen, unmarried and from poor families, looking for work to save up for marriage.
Clara glanced toward the kitchen—Doreen's ears were practically standing at attention. As expected, she was also waiting for her turn to recommend someone.
Clara had already promised the village chief and the clan elder that she'd prioritize villagers. These jobs wouldn't be offered to outsiders.
Even within Liew Clan Village, there weren't enough slots to go around. The two who had worked previously with Carpenter Liew would definitely be kept on. Add Brandon Liew and his two brothers, and that's five positions taken.
She planned to hire eighteen in total. With Sonny in mind for one spot, that left twelve openings.
But Clara didn't shut the door entirely. "Right now, we're still in peak harvest season. Not many are willing to leave their fields. If we do have openings, I'll make sure our family gets priority. Don't worry, Second Sister-in-law."
"Our family," she said.
From the kitchen, Doreen smiled faintly, reassured that Clara hadn't left her out.
Martha Liew's sharp gaze flicked their way a few times, and with Clara already making her stance clear, Kate didn't push further. She headed to the kitchen to help instead.
Caleb Liew rose to lend a hand, but Kate, blushing, pushed him back out.
He awkwardly turned to head back to the main hall, but Lester couldn't resist quipping, "Second Brother, she's being polite and you're actually taking it seriously? Have a little awareness—your wife's carrying a belly that big!"
"Do I need your commentary?" Caleb retorted lamely.
But it had no bite.
Lester tsked twice. "Why're you just standing there? Go help! Can't you see she's carrying soup?"
Caleb puffed up, caught between indignation and embarrassment, glaring like a frustrated ox.
Lester opened his mouth again, clearly ready to stir more trouble, but Clara shot him a sharp look that made him shut it.
Caleb's dark face turned beet red. But in the end, out of sheer stubbornness toward Lester, he refused to help. Instead, he plopped down on a bench and jabbed back, "You think everyone's like you, good-for-nothing? Name one other man who sticks his nose in the kitchen like you do."
Lester snorted. "I feel bad for my wife, that's why. Unlike some blockheads who just sit around watching their wives carry soup. Acting all high and mighty as a 'man'—what nonsense!"
Kate's face turned crimson.
Clara finally snapped, "Lester Liew! Would it kill you to stop talking?"
Unbothered by the scolding, Lester muttered, "I just can't stand some folks acting superior…"
"Oh, and asking your wife if she needs help, then backing off when she says no—that's just performative, anyone can do that."
Clara honestly wanted to slice off his tongue.
But… she had to admit, he had a point.
Kate, meanwhile, paused mid-step with the soup bowl, casting a suspicious glance at her husband. Was he just pretending to be considerate?
Caleb panicked. He'd thought letting her insist would save face, but now it looked like Lester's nonsense was turning his wife against him!
He scrambled up, gently sat her down, rolled up his sleeves, and marched into the kitchen to serve the remaining dishes himself.
Seeing Kate's happy expression, Lester lost interest and huffed quietly.
Only to receive a sharp kick to his calf.
"Ow—!" He nearly yelped.
"You're a damn muck-stirrer," Clara hissed through gritted teeth behind him.
Feeling her icy wrath, Lester finally shut up.
He only meant to teach his brothers how to be good husbands… why did no one appreciate his good intentions?
Still, it was a holiday, and with the harvest just completed, Doreen had cooked a hearty meal—fluffy white rice, three stir-fried dishes, and a soup. Massive portions, enough for everyone.
Though there wasn't any meat, the egg threads in the soup barely counted as a hint of protein. Compared to the regular meat stir-fries in Clara's household, this was a far cry.
But Doreen's skills were top-notch, and everyone ate heartily.
Clara held back and only had three bowls.
Even so, her treatment was better than that of the Liew men. Women got one bowl, men working the fields got two, and children the same. Clara alone got three.
Lester tried to get a third bowl too, but one glare from Old Walter Liew had him frozen.
Not that he cared—he needed to refuel after working so hard. How else was he supposed to recover and keep up with his studies?
Ignoring the dagger stares from behind, he scooped himself a heaping bowl and packed it down with the serving ladle.
(End of Chapter)
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