At the village well stood an old tree, beneath which sat a cluster of tree stumps long used as stools. Clara picked an empty one, settled herself down, and opened her homemade wooden clipboard and pen to begin the interviews one by one.
Brandon, Caleb, and Logan Liew all came. Though there were still dozens of acres left unharvested at home, Martha Liew had insisted they attend. Even if they had to pay day laborers to help harvest, missing out on this opportunity wasn't an option.
Twelve copper a day for quarrying, ten for polishing—plus two meals a day. Though not as high as the flat rate Clara had given them before (four hundred copper per millstone), this offered steady, long-term employment. That was a completely different matter than ten-day short jobs.
As for the rice harvest, a day laborer could be hired for one meal and six to eight copper coins. There was still profit to be had—no way to lose.
Old Walter Liew had originally objected to all three sons going, which had Doreen and Kate worried sick. But once Martha did the math, even he agreed.
Still, not everyone in the village calculated like Martha. With food being a top priority, most couldn't bear to delay their harvest.
Some fields were still ripening, and many families wouldn't finish harvesting until mid-to-late August. Those families could only watch in envy as others sent people to apply.
Some came to ask Clara whether she'd consider short-term workers.
Clara didn't close the door on the idea—there weren't any long-term contracts yet, after all—but she told them to wait and see whether the regular three-month hires filled up first.
Even the village chief's eldest grandson came. Among the dark, wiry villagers, he stood tall and broad-shouldered, easily spotted.
Clara asked, "Name, age, and which position are you applying for?"
"Quinn Liew, seventeen, applying for quarry work."
At that, Brandon and his brothers felt a slight stir of unease. Though they trusted Clara wouldn't overlook her own family, their hearts tightened all the same.
Clara calmly looked him over. Aside from those naturally gifted in strength, there were barely a handful of youths in the village as well-built as Quinn Liew.
She nodded and asked the basics—had he quarried before? Any experience?
Quinn Liew shook his head. No experience, but he was a fast learner with strength to spare. To prove it, he hefted two sacks of sun-dried grain that someone had left under the tree—one in each hand, arms straight, lifting them effortlessly.
Clara noted: "No experience, excellent strength."
"Next," she called, waving the next applicant forward.
This wasn't a decision made on the spot. Clara would review the notes with Carpenter Liew later. Once the final roster was settled, they'd go door-to-door to notify each selected person.
Altogether, twenty-three villagers applied—ranging in age from fifteen to thirty-eight—all sturdy young men from the village.
When it was Doreen's turn, her face already carried a grin. Since no one else was gunning for the cook position, she confidently boasted of her rice-measuring skills and guaranteed not a single grain would go to waste.
The villagers chuckled—some teasing her for being stingy, others praising her skills with a wok.
In the village, whenever there was a feast, Doreen and Martha were the go-to cooks. Her culinary talent was widely recognized.
With no other contenders, Clara announced, "Doreen, come to my place after dinner tonight. We'll go over headcount and plan the shopping list."
"What? I'm hired just like that?" Doreen blinked in surprise.
Clara smiled helplessly. "Yes. From now on, you're the head cook of the Liew Clan's watermill workshop."
"Hah! I knew it. Who else could you possibly pick? No one's better than me!" Doreen beamed, her pride swelling as she looked around.
Maybe it was the family bias, but Clara thought she looked rather adorable.
Clara motioned for Brandon to pull his wife aside—she was blocking the line.
Brandon chuckled softly, tugged his wife away, and called his brothers to head home. Clara had said this was mostly a formality for them anyway.
With time to spare, they could rush to harvest a few more acres and save on labor costs.
Maggie approached nervously. She was the last to apply.
"Maggie, twenty-two, applying for woodworking," she announced, mimicking the others' phrasing.
Clara jotted it down and asked, "What can you do?"
At the mention of her skillset, Maggie steadied. "Marking, planing, painting, joinery—I can do them all."
Clara looked up, pleasantly surprised. "Do you have experience?"
Maggie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. I used to help my father build tables and benches back home."
Clara made a special note in her ledger: "Plenty of experience—a true carpenter."
Anyone who did even a little work involving measurement and marking could usually recognize a few characters and numbers.
Maggie hadn't meant to peek, but when she glanced down, she caught sight of the word "carpenter" written beside her name, and joy bubbled up in her chest.
Clara stood, putting away her notes and pen. "Anyone else applying? If not, that's all for today. You'll be notified after I finalize the roster with Carpenter Liew."
Still plenty to do in the fields, the villagers quickly dispersed.
Clara made her way toward the edge of the village. Less than two hundred meters later, she reached the overgrown lot—just under a two-minute walk from the village gate.
Spotting her, Carpenter Liew handed his two workers their tasks and came to the roadside. "How many did you get?"
He had seen the crowd by the well earlier.
Clara pointed to a patch of grass nearby and sat down with him in its shade. She opened her notebook.
"Twenty-three people applied in total. Take out your two current woodworkers, and we've got sixteen slots left. The cook is settled—it'll be my sister-in-law Doreen."
"For quarry workers, we've confirmed Brandon, Caleb, and Quinn Liew, the village chief's grandson."
"Logan is applying for a grinder position—he counts too. And I've got a recommendation for an experienced carpenter: Maggie, Peddler Liew's wife."
The earlier names didn't surprise Carpenter Liew. Brandon and his brothers were experienced—he was counting on them to help train the others.
But Maggie?
"A whole group of men applying, and you want to bring in Maggie? That might not go over well."
Clara shoved the notebook into his hands. "Then look for yourself. See anyone better?"
Carpenter Liew gave a helpless chuckle. "I can't read. Handing me this doesn't help."
"Then I'll read it to you." Clara began listing the woodworking applicants.
With each name, Carpenter Liew's frown deepened. How were they all this confident? Didn't even know how to mark or plane, yet they applied?
The pay was good—that's why. Everyone wanted to try their luck. And with barely any serious competitors, why not?
But when Clara read, "Plenty of experience—a true carpenter," he lit up and jabbed a finger at the entry. "That one's good. Let's take him!"
"That's Maggie," Clara said smugly, raising an eyebrow.
Carpenter Liew froze. Busted.
(End of Chapter)
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