And besides, with schooling costs so high, it wasn't easy for Clara to cover her own two children—never mind anyone else's.
As the one paying their wages, she knew better than anyone how much silver Doreen and Brandon had on hand, and they were still a long way from being able to afford Ryder's tuition.
The conversation drifted away from the Ding Clan Academy, but Old Walter had his own thoughts about Clara wanting to buy a horse.
Clara was happy to hear him out. "Go ahead, tell me straight," she said, listening earnestly.
Old Walter said, "I did a rough calculation. Buying this horse… it's not worth it.
"First, Adam's just turned ten, Ben's only eight. They're still kids. If they ride a pony to and from school alone, and some ill-intentioned person takes a fancy to the horse, what if they steal it?"
"That's the best-case scenario—what if the children get hurt?"
Clara frowned. "The bandits have been cleared out. I know people in Riverbend Village and Goldstone Town. It should be fine, right?"
She said it lightly, but deep down she felt a twinge of doubt.
The children playing noisily in the cart fell quiet, eavesdropping on the adults' conversation.
Old Walter sighed. "Second, even a short-legged pony will cost around twenty taels. That much silver could buy a top-quality ox—and you'd still have four or five taels left over.
"Why not just take them to Riverbend Village each day, hand them over to the carter there, and let him drive them to town? The carters go every day anyway. You could pay him a monthly fee—one or two hundred coins. That's much safer and cheaper than letting them ride alone.
"Wait until they're older before buying a horse—it'll be much more suitable then."
He was also thinking about Clara's plan to buy land. He worried that if she spent all her silver now, there'd be nothing left for that.
The old housefolk could do small sums, but when it came to bigger figures—like exactly how much the watermill had brought in last year—they could only make rough guesses: fifty or sixty taels, maybe seventy or eighty.
If a family had steady property income, that was enough to live on for most of a lifetime.
But she didn't have property—not a single acre of land—and that worried Old Walter.
"Land is the most important thing!" he reminded her again.
Clara nodded. She thought he made a lot of sense.
If she took the boys herself to Riverbend Village and handed them over to the carter for the ride to Goldstone Town, it would greatly improve their safety and save a fortune.
Two hundred coins a month meant one tael could last five months. If she converted the price of a pony into carriage fares, it would keep them riding until the carter went out of business!
And it might not even cost the full two hundred—a yearly contract would be cheaper. She could bargain it down.
It was more work, yes, but the savings were real.
Most importantly, she wouldn't have to worry about safety, and even in wind or rain, the ox-cart would be fine.
Still, no matter how she calculated it, nothing beat actually living in town.
Clara muttered, "What if we just buy land in town?"
Lester, overhearing, was startled. He quickly lowered his voice.
"If we move to town with no relatives or allies, and I'm not home most days, you and the kids will get bullied to death. Don't do it. Isn't the village better? Everyone knows each other and treats us politely."
Clara snorted. "Me, bullied to death?"
"Uh—slip of the tongue! Of course no one could bully you. I just don't want you getting any ideas about buying land in town. It's a great idea, sure, but… maybe let's not think about it again, alright?" he said with that shameless, wheedling grin.
She knew moving wasn't as easy as packing up and going, but seeing the panic flicker in his eyes made her want to tease him more. "If it's such a great idea, why can't we think about it again?"
Lester rubbed his forehead. "It's just not suitable for us. If you really want to move, wait until I've earned an official title. Then we'll talk."
Otherwise, life there would be miserable.
Same clan or not, no one would give up land to let an outsider muscle in on their turf.
Seeing the eager look in her eyes, Lester didn't bother stopping her anymore—let her try. She'd soon see for herself that buying land in Liew Clan Village was already hard enough. In Goldstone Town? Even worse!
After all, even among the few who did sell land, there weren't many like him in the whole town.
Clara gave him a sidelong look. And you sound proud of that?
Sensing danger, Lester hurried to walk faster until he was shoulder to shoulder with Caleb, asking about the full-month banquet plans—would he have time to attend?
The academy reopened after the fifteenth, and the County Exam preliminary was in the second month. The schedule was tight—just thinking about it was exciting.
Luckily, Caleb said the banquet would be on the twelfth, so they could still make it.
Ah, a banquet. Lester couldn't help swallowing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper one.
The housewarming feast didn't count—just a few tables for a simple meal. That wasn't a real banquet.
A proper one lasted two days: the first day to prepare, with a table at dusk for the helpers.
The second day was the main feast—eating from morning to night.
Breakfast was "celebration porridge," made from fried rice simmered with all sorts of things—soybeans, vegetables, minced meat—all mixed together, fragrant and rich.
Lunch was the formal feast. In modest homes, eight dishes; in better-off ones, twelve to sixteen, with both meat and vegetables, plus wine, pastries, and candies—eat whatever you liked.
In the evening came the final meal, similar to the main feast but with a few fewer dishes, mainly finishing off whatever was left.
Though usually, nothing was left—villagers were fierce eaters, cleaning even the bottoms of the bowls.
Doreen invited Clara to help that day. Not cooking or wielding the big ladle—no one expected that from her—but maybe washing dishes, wiping tables, and serving plates.
"Oh, and bring your tables, chairs, benches, and bowls. We'll wash everything and send it back to you afterward."
"Don't worry, we won't damage or lose anything," Doreen promised with a smile.
Clara had never been to a banquet at someone else's home. She was curious and agreed.
The group chatted and laughed along the way, and time passed quickly.
Before they knew it, the county town gates came into view, and they quickened their pace.
Old Walter and Doreen hadn't been to the county town in years—not since six or seven years ago.
Following Clara's instructions, Lester took the lead, handled the inspection by the gate guards, paid the entry and parking fees, and guided the whole group inside.
Caleb had never seen his third brother like this—calmly chatting with the officials, greeting acquaintances—and his jaw practically stayed open the whole way.
Once inside, even talkative Doreen went quiet, looking a little stiff and unsure.
Clara hooked her arm through hers, pointing things out—what street this was, what each shop sold, where to buy livestock, where to shop for vegetables and meat.
Once she got her bearings, Doreen began to relax, her attention caught by the bustle of the city streets.
(End of Chapter)
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