Lester tucked the silver safely into his pouch, but something suddenly felt off.
He could understand Clara buying paper, ink, brushes, and inkstones for the four kids—but why did she want him to practice calligraphy too?
Before he could ask, Clara had already ruffled the children's faces with affection and turned to leave, not giving him a chance to voice his confusion.
The five of them stood in a neat line outside the Ding estate's gate, watching her retreating figure. The joy that had just filled their hearts slowly ebbed away.
"Dad," Deb asked, tilting her little face up to him, "how long before Mama comes home?"
Lester counted on his fingers. "Twenty more days."
"How long is twenty days?" Chad chimed in immediately.
"Not long," Lester said with feigned ease. "Just a blink, and she'll be back."
Once the gates of the Ding residence had fully closed, he turned around and waved to the children like he was unveiling a grand plan. "Come on! Let's go explore the town—Daddy's treating you all today!"
The children's gloom instantly lifted. They joined hands and followed him eagerly as the family of five made their way into town.
Today was market day, and the streets were packed. Every shop was open, and the roadsides were lined with stalls selling trinkets and treats. It was bustling and lively.
Worried about losing the younger ones in the crowd, Lester held onto Chad and Deb while letting Adam and Ben walk just ahead to keep an eye out.
Their "feast and fun" adventure mostly involved shopping for the school supplies Clara had requested. They strolled through the entire market street, and with the last of the spare change, each child got a colorful lucky-thread bracelet.
"Let's buy one for Mama too!" Deb clung to her father's hand, her little legs sagging like she'd sit on the ground and refuse to move if he didn't agree.
So, when Clara returned to the Ding estate with Emily after catching a bucket of field fish, she was surprised when Giles handed her a five-colored thread bracelet.
"Miss Clara, your husband seems to think of you quite a bit," Giles said teasingly, clearly amused.
He hadn't expected Clara's husband to be so good-looking—like a proper scholar, even. And when the man asked him to deliver the bracelet, he'd used such refined, poetic language.
Clara had no idea where Giles got such strange ideas. She simply nodded her thanks and accepted the bracelet.
The slim cord was woven from five colors—red, yellow, white, blue, and green—symbolizing the five elements, meant to ward off evil and bring blessings. It was a thoughtful gift.
Clara held it up to the light, lips curling into a smile. She didn't need to ask—she could already tell the children had picked it out for her.
The bracelet was long enough to wrap around her wrist twice, and it looked quite nice tied that way.
But when she returned to her room and saw the dumplings Emily had given her earlier, her smile twitched.
They were tied with the exact same five-colored thread.
Clara picked up a dumpling, untied the string and peeled back the leaves. It was a red date and pork dumplings. As she tasted it, her thoughts wandered to that little Liew Clan Village.
So this is what it feels like to be missed—like a gentle warmth blooming in your chest, tinged with hope.
Clara was diligent in her role as an employee.
Not only did she perform her duties well, but she even joined in on her employer's imaginative games.
But ever since Emily discovered Clara's talent for catching animals, her interest in role-playing as a teacher waned.
Now she just wanted to go out—anywhere would do: the fields, the hillsides, the woods.
Clara could take her up trees or down into rivers to catch fish. Sometimes she even brought back a small catch for dinner.
Clara's bonus "playmate" services didn't go unrewarded.
Emily had once only allowed Clara to read in the study, but now she let her borrow books to read in her own room.
Clara took full advantage of her three free hours each night before bed, reading as much as she could to understand this world—from daily life to the scholar exams.
On that subject, Emily was an excellent source. With both her father and brother being scholars, she could explain everything. And seeing Clara's subtle tenderness whenever she mentioned her stepchildren made Emily a little envious.
Her mother had been gone nearly three years now.
She had a feeling her father would soon remarry—and probably to a woman who would benefit his career.
The thought scared her, but after watching Clara, it sparked a bit of hope too. What if her future stepmother turned out to be kind?
In late May, the endless clear skies suddenly shifted.
Rain began to fall—mostly mornings and nights, while midday remained clear. The courtyard alternated between wet and dry, and the cycle left people irritable.
Clara leaned by the window with a book, calm as still water.
Emily stood at her desk, a blank sheet of rice paper in front of her. She dipped her brush in ink but hesitated, unable to make the first stroke.
After a while, the brush moved. A few graceful lines, and a figure appeared—a woman reading by the window.
Clara glanced over and smiled faintly, thinking Emily had drawn her.
But when she looked again later, the features had been completed—and it was a stranger's face.
"I don't remember what my mother looked like," Emily murmured.
So she'd drawn a woman with Clara's posture but the face of her birth mother—a noble lady in traditional dress.
She stared at the painting, frustrated. Then she looked at Clara with eyes like a lost fawn.
Clara put down her book and opened her arms. "Come here. Let's have a hug."
Emily paused in surprise, then slowly crept into her embrace—tentative, cautious. But the warmth matched exactly what she'd imagined.
"Miss Clara," she mumbled, nestled against her, "Father sent a letter—he and my brother will be home soon."
She looked up, eyes hopeful. "Can you tell me where you live? In case… I ever want to visit and can't find you?"
"You'd have to walk a long way—from town, it takes about an hour and a half," Clara replied.
"I can ride a horse," Emily said determinedly. "If I ever have nowhere to go, I'll come to you—with my books as payment."
"You'd take me in, wouldn't you?" she asked, face full of expectation.
Clara shook her head firmly. "No."
Her house wasn't a daycare. She couldn't just take in every stray child.
Besides, Master Ding was not someone she could afford to offend right now.
Emily puffed her cheeks in indignation, wanting to protest but knowing it was pointless. Clara had made up her mind.
Clara nudged her out of the hug and changed the subject. "How about I teach you to ride? I guarantee you'll learn—as long as you let me copy a few books."
Emily had boasted about riding here, but truthfully, she hadn't even touched a horse before.
Her interest was piqued. "What kind of books do you want?"
Clara pointed to the shelf. The Book of Changes, Book of History, Book of Songs, Book of Rites, and Spring and Autumn Annals—the Five Classics of Confucianism.
Emily's eyes gleamed. "Then you'll have to teach me archery too!"
(End of Chapter)
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