The weather was growing colder by the day, but the villagers of Liew Clan Village were growing more restless by the hour.
By this point in the calendar, the laborers conscripted to deliver grain to the border should've been returning.
Women and children from other households ran to the village entrance four or five times a day, hoping their menfolk would arrive home safely. Those with more spare time even gathered in small groups and headed to the main road near Riverbend Village to wait and inquire whether anyone had made it back already.
The news that some porters from the county town had already returned only made hearts beat faster with anxious anticipation.
Only Clara and her four children carried on as if nothing were happening—eating and drinking as usual.
Adam carried a large basin of chestnuts while Clara lugged a bucket of fine sand she'd sifted by the riverside. The two of them timed their arrival at the old Liew residence to coincide with Doreen getting off work. Clara had come specifically to rope Doreen and Martha into experimenting with stir-fried chestnuts.
The moment Martha saw the sand in the bucket, she frowned. "People don't use river sand to stir-fry chestnuts. It's supposed to be iron sand!"
Clara paid no mind. Her cravings had kept her up all night—she was determined to eat chestnuts today, even if the result turned out completely bizarre.
The two older women were helpless against her insistence. What else could they do but give in?
Doreen dragged out a large wok. Martha built a ceramic brazier in the courtyard, the red-hot charcoal glowing merrily in the base.
At the sound of movement, the kids in the household perked up. The moment they saw Clara standing by the stove, they guessed she was up to something tasty again.
Ryder and Rosie instantly abandoned their playmates and ran off to find Ben and the twins, dragging them into the courtyard in a flurry of excitement.
Doreen quickly waved her hands to shoo them back. "Away with you! Don't get burned!"
"It's not hot, just nice and warm! My hands are freezing—let me warm up!" Ryder squatted down next to the fire, stretching out his hands while craning his neck to peer at the wok.
He caught sight of the sand inside and immediately widened his eyes. "Grandma, why are you stir-frying sand?"
Can people even eat that? Ryder nearly shouted the question out loud.
Ben rolled his eyes at him. "Don't you know stir-fried chestnuts need to be cooked in sand?"
Ryder and Rosie both shook their heads. Nope, didn't know that.
Chad pulled his little sister back a safe distance, warning, "Don't get too close. The sparks might catch on your clothes."
The twins looked down at their brand-new padded jackets. Deb even glanced at her feet—on her tiny toes was a pair of thick embroidered shoes with morning glories stitched on them, dainty and adorable.
Rosie wore the same pair. The two cousins exchanged a knowing look, and Rosie immediately left Ryder's side to join Deb. She rubbed her hands together and then cupped them around Deb's rosy-red cheeks, giggling as the two pressed their foreheads together.
Before long, a shriek rang out from the courtyard—Ryder had singed a hole in his new jacket. Enraged, Doreen grabbed the long-handled spatula she was using to stir the sand and chased after him.
Ryder ran all over the yard in a panic, too afraid to leave. He didn't want to miss out on the first bite of something delicious!
In the end, it was Clara who intervened. Annoyed by the chaos, she grabbed the back of Ryder's collar and held him still. She raised a hand to block Doreen's spatula and said a few words of appeasement, and only then did mother and son call a truce.
But the peace didn't last long. Just minutes later, a clatter came from the kitchen. Martha turned her head and saw Ryder standing on tiptoe, trying to reach the soap on top of the cupboard to wash his hands. But the bar was slippery—it slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor with a thud.
"Ryder Liew!" Doreen roared, "The moment there's anything nice in this house, you just have to wreck it! Your third aunt only gave us two bars—your grandma and I can't even bear to use it to wash our hands! You try touching it again and see what happens!"
Clara exchanged glances with her two eldest sons, who were standing obediently nearby, and gave them a look.
After some discreet shoving, Ben lost the silent battle and ran into the kitchen to drag Ryder out. "Come on, Ryder! Let's go play in the fields!"
The fields had mud and straw—perfect for building mud stoves and pretending to play house. Kids aged anywhere from three to thirteen loved it.
Ryder's eyes lit up instantly, though he didn't forget to shout back before leaving: "Make sure you call us when the chestnuts are done!"
Rosie gave a vague "Mm-hmm" and exchanged a smile with Deb. The two girls thought the same thing: Good riddance.
Peace returned to the courtyard, and both adults and children let out a collective sigh of relief.
Martha looked at the dry sand and asked Doreen to fetch some oil. Doreen was alarmed. "You're adding oil too? This is a huge wok—one drizzle won't be enough!"
Clara promptly pulled ten copper coins from her pocket and handed them to Adam. "Go buy some oil from Peddler Liew."
Young legs worked fast. In just a few minutes, Adam returned with the oil. Martha poured all of it into the wok to help the sand cook more evenly.
Then they added the chestnuts, which had already been cut with cross-shaped slits, and began stirring and heating them.
Before long, a sweet, nutty aroma wafted into the air. The twins and Rosie were practically salivating in silence.
Clara kept a straight face, but inwardly, her anticipation was sky-high.
At last, after several rounds of vigorous stirring from Martha and Doreen, the chestnuts were ready. They might not have been cooked in iron sand, but they looked pretty decent.
The sand ensured even heat distribution so the chestnuts wouldn't burn, and the flesh inside was fully cooked.
Martha shoveled a heap of steaming chestnuts into a bamboo basket. Thanks to the cold weather, the chestnuts cooled quickly. Under everyone's eager gazes, Clara picked one up, cracked it open, and popped it into her mouth.
The bite was soft and floury with a hint of caramelized sweetness.
Clara gave a thumbs-up. "Delicious! You all have to try—this is every bit as good as the kind they sell in town!"
Even though she'd never actually had stir-fried chestnuts from town before, this taste was just like the one in her memories.
That was all the encouragement everyone needed. They each grabbed a chestnut and dug in. The younger three weren't very good at cracking the shells, so they just bit into the whole thing, chewed the soft flesh, and then spat the shells out afterward.
Doreen was convinced that anything with enough oil in it would taste amazing—especially if you made it yourself. One bite in, and she was hooked. The chestnuts were sweet and fragrant. She kept reaching for more.
Martha chuckled at everyone's delighted expressions. She scooped the rest of the chestnuts out of the sand, sifted off the grit, and poured them into a bamboo basket to be taken inside.
But nothing beat eating by the fire. Not a single person moved toward the house—they all just crowded around the brazier, munching non-stop.
Martha gave up and went inside to fetch a mat to cover the basket, so the chestnuts wouldn't lose heat too quickly.
Rosie scarfed down seven or eight before she remembered to go fetch Ryder. With the twins in tow, the three of them each stuffed their pockets with stir-fried chestnuts and headed off.
"She's going to show off again," Kate sighed with a helpless smile at Clara. "Just wait—they'll be back with empty pockets in no time."
Clara didn't mind in the slightest. "Kids need to socialize too. We've got loads left. There's still half a basin at home—once we finish those, we can stir-fry another batch."
Both Martha and Doreen shuddered at the thought, their arms aching already.
Doreen, always blunt, groaned, "Please don't! If I swing that ladle around too much and end up too sore to cook for the workshop tomorrow, don't blame me!"
(End of Chapter)
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