Adam and Ben furrowed their brows slightly.
The two, being older, had lived through the fear and chaos of the past few years.
Military conscriptions, forced labor for bridge construction, bizarre and ever-changing taxes—each time the village bell tolled, it was like a harbinger of doom.
So there was no way conscription for grain transport laborers was as easy as Clara made it sound.
Adam hesitantly asked, "Does our family need to send someone too?"
Clara calmly poured herself a cup of water and nodded. "Yes. Your father's going."
She said it so casually, like it was just another mundane event—nothing worth worrying about.
Adam's heart sank heavily. He glanced at Clara a few times, hesitating. Ben tugged his sleeve sharply. After taking a deep breath, Adam said nothing and instead picked up the kettle to refill Clara's cup.
"Once the grain is delivered, will Dad come back?" Deb asked with curiosity.
Clara patted her chubby little face. "Yes, he'll come back once the job is done. He might even be home in time for New Year."
—That is, if he actually finishes the job.
Deb nodded with an "oh," as if she understood, though not entirely. She glanced between her older brother and Clara, feeling like something didn't sit quite right.
But seeing Clara smiling and quizzing her brothers on their lessons, she relaxed. If Mama says it's fine, then it must be fine!
After washing up with warm water, they all returned to their rooms to sleep.
The rain continued through the night, varying from soft to strong. The chill crept in again, but thankfully, they'd replaced the straw bedding beneath the mattresses and laid down thicker quilts.
Around midnight, just as everyone was sleeping soundly to the sound of rain, a sudden banging shattered the peace—bang bang bang!—someone was pounding on the courtyard gate.
Clara and the four children in the adjacent room were startled awake.
She sat up and shouted toward the yard, "Who's there?"
"It's me! Darling, I'm home!"
It was Lester Liew.
Clara pulled on her clothes and mused, Was today his rest day?
Still, his timing couldn't have been better—saved her the trip into town to drag him back for conscription.
She opened the gate and stepped back under the eaves of the main hall to avoid the rain.
Adam and Ben peeked out from their room and saw the drenched figure in the courtyard. Adam hesitantly called out, "Dad?"
Lester closed the gate behind him and responded with a weary sigh. He dashed into the main hall and took off his utterly useless bamboo hat, revealing a miserable, rain-drenched face.
His wet hair clung to his cheeks, and his robe was speckled with mud. His cloth shoes had been soaked and discolored by muddy water—unrecognizable now.
Adam pushed Ben back into their room and quickly dressed. He headed straight for the kitchen, lit the stove, and brought a hot bowl of ginger soup to his father. "Papa, have some ginger soup to warm up."
Lester's heart softened. He reached out to pat his son's head but, seeing his muddy hands, withdrew awkwardly. He took the soup and downed it in one go.
The roads had been treacherous in the dark and rain. Just as he thought he'd made it safely to the village, he'd slipped right at his own doorstep—earning himself a full-body mud bath.
After father and son cleaned up, Clara simply stood under the corridor roof, watching their shadows move between the kitchen and bathroom, her expression unreadable.
When Lester finally emerged from the bath in clean hemp clothes, he looked up and met her cold, indifferent gaze. His heart tensed.
"I'm fine now, sweetheart. You should get some rest," he said softly. "I'll wash my clothes and go to bed soon."
Clara nodded and waved to Adam, who was still in the kitchen tending to the fire. "Let him handle it himself. You go back to bed."
It wasn't good for kids to stay up too late.
Adam hesitated, but eventually returned to his room.
Lester remained alone at the stove. The white rice porridge inside was bubbling under the high heat. He glanced toward the master bedroom, then leaned in closer to the warmth. The cold in his body had faded, but the chill in his heart only deepened.
Now he was sure—the woman he saw at dusk near the restaurant had indeed been Clara.
She'd seen him. And yet… she hadn't said a word?
That was even scarier than if she had stormed over and beaten him up on the spot.
Restless and without an allowance from home, all four of his letters had gone unanswered. So after finishing his evening class, Lester had borrowed a classmate's hat and rushed back overnight.
It was late. With no carts or carriages in sight, he had walked the entire way—three full hours. From dusk to nightfall, and from nightfall to deep into the night, he'd trudged through mud just to reach home.
He had prepared himself mentally for a storm of scolding when the door opened. He even had excuses lined up.
But instead, she'd just stepped back and said nothing. She'd been watching him like a bystander ever since.
Even while bathing, he'd found himself checking behind his neck repeatedly, half-convinced there was a blade aimed at his throat.
The porridge was ready. Its fragrant aroma filled the kitchen. Lester rubbed his stomach. Forget it. Let's eat first. Tomorrow's a new day.
Adam had mentioned there was still some minced pork with pickled vegetables in the second cupboard.
Lester found it and mixed it with the porridge, scarfing everything down.
Once finished, he cleaned the pot, tidied the kitchen, washed his clothes, and by then, the roosters had begun to crow.
He blew out the oil lamp, yawned, pushed open his door, and flopped onto the clean, fragrant bed. Without a single thought, he drifted into a deep sleep.
He didn't wake until late afternoon.
No one in the house had roused him—almost too considerate.
As a result, he remained blissfully unaware of the conscription order until he wandered into the village for a leisurely stroll and found everyone in a panic.
"Hey! Where's everyone going?" Lester asked, frowning. "What's going on? Why does everyone look so miserable?"
A cousin stopped briefly and looked at him in disbelief. "You don't know?"
Lester shook his head. Was I supposed to?
The cousin sighed enviously. "Your wife must've already bought you a replacement slot. Then you don't have to worry about the court's conscription order to transport military supplies."
With that, he rushed off—wanting to get away before jealousy took over.
Lester called after him several times but got no response. He stood frozen, repeating his cousin's words in his head. Then suddenly—his eyes widened.
Conscription? forced labor?
The unease he had tried so hard to suppress came flooding back.
Recalling Clara's cold indifference last night, Lester's face turned pale. He broke into a run toward the village chief's house.
Flipping through the conscription ledger, he quickly found it—his name, "Lester Liew," right there on the list.
"It's over. I'm done for!"
It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. Lester trembled and, under the startled gaze of the village chief, turned on his heels and sprinted toward the old Liew family home.
"Father! Please save your son!"
(End of Chapter)
Enjoying the story? Get early access to new chapters on my Patreon: patreon.com/c/TinaWriterXD
Thank you for your support! 💛