On the 25th day of the twelfth lunar month, the academy's winter assessment had concluded. With a test paper stamped with the character "Excellent" by the instructor, Lester Liew took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever lay ahead. After packing his belongings, he began the journey home.
During this time, Brandon Liew had come to visit him once in Willowridge County Town—mainly to confirm that Lester was truly alive.
Once assured that he was indeed alive and diligently studying, Brandon was relieved and returned home.
From this, Lester knew that Clara was now aware he had made it back alive.
He hadn't dared to step a single foot beyond the academy gates before the exam. Only after the small exam ended and the academy officially entered its New Year break did he finally leave the city with great apprehension.
With no money, he had no choice but to travel on foot.
Along the way, Lester was like a frightened bird, jumping at the slightest rustle or noise.
After walking for nearly an hour and a half, just as he reached the stretch of road between Riverbend Village and Goldstone Town, the sky abruptly turned grey, and salt-like snowflakes began to fall.
Lester picked up his pace. Having once been a porter at the border, where soldiers whipped and yelled at him daily, he had built up some stamina and managed to reach Riverbend Village quickly.
Now less than an hour from home, he figured that if Clara had intended to ambush him, she would've done so long ago. No way she'd wait until the home stretch. He finally exhaled in relief.
But just as he stepped out of Riverbend's boundary, the sudden thunder of galloping hooves erupted behind him.
Lester stiffened in alarm. He turned around in disbelief—only to see a brown horse charging at him at full speed.
Atop it sat a woman, her wide-brimmed hat pulled low to obscure her face. Only her sharp chin was visible—but that was enough. She was the very person he'd spent his whole journey praying not to meet.
Clara snapped the reins with a sharp cry, "Hyah!" Her legs squeezed the horse's flanks, urging it into an even faster sprint.
Lester's eyes widened in horror. He had no time to dodge, and all the contingency plans he'd imagined before—poof—vanished.
His body responded faster than his brain. With a loud "thud," he dropped to his knees, squeezed his eyes shut, and began reciting scriptures at lightning speed:
"The Master said: To govern with virtue is like the North Star, which stays in its place while all the stars revolve around it!"
"The Master said: Guide the people with laws and keep them in line with punishments, and they'll evade shame but lack conscience. Guide them with virtue and keep them in line with ritual, and they'll develop shame and correct themselves!"
"The Master said: At fifteen, I set my heart on learning. At thirty, I stood firm. At forty, I had no doubts. At fifty, I knew Heaven's will. At sixty, I was attuned. At seventy, I followed my heart's desires without overstepping the line—"
The hooves were now nearly above his head.
At the very last moment, Clara pulled the reins in a sharp turn. The horse, Old Yeller, skidded to the side and reared slightly before landing just beside him.
Lester could feel the heat radiating from the horse's muscular legs. Though he looked outwardly calm, cold sweat was streaming down his forehead.
Still, he didn't stop reciting.
"The Master said: Reviewing what you have learned and learning anew, you are fit to be a teacher... Zi Zhang asked, can the fate of ten generations be known? The Master said: Yin followed the rites of Xia, with some changes. So can it be known. Whoever follows Zhou—be it even in a hundred generations—can still be known."
"The Master said: To sacrifice to spirits not one's own is flattery. Seeing what is right and not doing it is cowardice!"
He finished all twenty-four passages of the Analects: On Governance in one breath before daring to open his eyes.
When he finally did, he found himself staring straight into Clara's cool, assessing gaze. There was a flicker of intrigue in her eyes, as if she hadn't expected him to be capable of such a feat.
Wasn't this the same man who couldn't memorize a thing even after getting beaten black and blue?
Now he could suddenly recite the whole thing?
"Lester Liew?" she asked coldly, as if confirming whether his body had been possessed.
Lester gave a feeble "Yes," followed by a sheepish grin. "Wife, I got an Excellent on my exam."
He quickly fumbled to pull the test paper from his bundle and held it high for her to see.
Clara hissed softly at the cold, brushing off the snowflakes that had landed on the sheet. Sure enough, there was a bold and elegant "Excellent" scrawled across it.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and gave him a long side glance.
Lester rushed to declare his loyalty. "Wife, though I lost three months serving as a porter, I've now memorized one of the Four Books. I've still got two months before the county exam—if I study hard, I should still make it in time."
For the first time, Clara genuinely looked at the useless man before her with something close to reevaluation. She sheathed the half-drawn dagger at her side and gestured for him to stand.
She trotted her horse forward at an easy pace. "Where's the dagger?"
That prized dagger had been with Lester the entire time. Not even in his poorest days had he dared to sell it. He quickly unwrapped the blade—triple-wrapped in rags—and handed it back to Clara.
"And the pot?" she asked.
He patted his bundle. "Still here. Not a scratch. I figured I'd hold onto it so your hands wouldn't get sore."
That bootlicking tone—yep, still the same old Lester. Clara put aside her suspicion of possession and continued,
"I didn't pay to exempt you from labor duty. You must've hated me for that."
Though snow was falling, Lester was sweating buckets. He discreetly wiped his forehead and replied solemnly,
"I didn't understand at first. But later, I realized you were right. It was my own lack of discipline that led me astray from my studies."
"But now I've seen the light. Wife, even your beatings were filled with love—"
"Watch your wording," Clara interrupted dryly.
Lester let out two awkward laughs and skipped the mushy part.
"They say, 'Under the rod, the scholar thrives.' Without your constant prodding, how could I possibly have the good fortune I have now?"
"This trip delivering grain to the border really opened my eyes. Only through study can someone like me—someone low-born—change their fate. Oh, I meant me! Just me! Not you, of course. Please don't misunderstand."
Realizing he'd lumped them together with the word "we," he scrambled to correct himself.
Luckily, Clara didn't care about such trivial slips. Her mind was already calculating the potential benefits and risks of keeping Lester around.
In the end, she concluded that—at least for now—the benefits outweighed the trouble.
After all, raising Adam and the younger ones would take years before any return.
Lester, on the other hand—if he truly committed to studying her way—could easily pass the County Scholar exam soon.
And when he did, she would also reap the rewards.
As for the trouble he brought... well, after all this, his attitude had finally fallen within her acceptable range.
Because she believed—deep down—Lester absolutely never wanted to serve another round of labor duty.
He was lucky to have returned whole and intact this time.
Next time? He might not be so lucky.
"Wife, are you still angry?" Lester asked nervously after a long silence.
Clara lowered her eyes, glanced at him, and scoffed, "Why would I be angry? Are you even worth the effort?"
Lester: "Right, sorry. I brought this on myself."
Clara nodded approvingly. "Good. You've narrowly escaped death this time."
The snow continued to fall, but it didn't get heavier. One on horseback, the other jogging behind, the pair made it back to Liew Clan Village without incident.
Just as Clara stopped her horse at the gates of the old Liew estate and pulled out a fresh cut of pork belly to take inside, Lester finally remembered to ask—
"Wait... why were you behind me just now? Was that really a coincidence?"
(End of Chapter)
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