That uneasy feeling had been growing ever since Clara entered the village and met the first batch of villagers.
They saw the fully loaded cart behind her and were visibly surprised. But since they weren't on familiar terms, no one said anything directly.
Still, the way they looked at her—like they wanted to speak but didn't—gave Clara a bad feeling.
Then, as the cart rolled past the village well around mealtime, the place was oddly empty.
Just then, Mdm Zhou came walking from the northern fields, carrying a basket of freshly harvested vegetables. When she saw Clara, she was first startled, then quickly called out:
"Little Sister, where have you been these days? And where did you get all this food on your cart? Never mind that—go home quickly! Your Lester's back!"
Lester's back?
Alive or dead?
The question was at the tip of Clara's tongue, but it felt wrong to ask it out loud. She simply nodded to Mdm Zhou, turned back, and urged the driver to hurry. Then she strode quickly toward home.
Before she even reached the house, just as she got to the riverbank and was about to cross the bridge, she saw a large crowd gathered outside the straw hut on the hillside.
Among the crowd were people from the old Liew residence. Old Walter Liew and his sons—Brandon and the others—were talking to someone, with snatches of conversation drifting over:"Please give us a few more days,""We'll find a way to pay you back,"and so on.
Clara's heart sank. She had an overwhelming urge to turn around and walk away.
But it was too late. Doreen caught sight of her and called out in surprise and delight:"Little Sister, you're finally back!"
Everyone outside the house turned in unison to look toward the bridge.
The crowd parted, and Billy Lin's all-too-familiar face emerged once again.
Clara gripped the handle of her knife tightly. She told the cart driver not to be afraid and to wait there. Then she strode forward alone, her voice sharp as she questioned:
"You again? What are you doing here?"
Her tone was full of hostility, as if she were deeply displeased that Billy Lin had brought Lester back alive.
That's right—Lester Liew was alive.
Barely.
He lay limp on the ground, wrapped in tattered burlap, his body covered in bruises, barely conscious.
And that once-prized handsome face of his? It was in a state too miserable to look at.
The four Liew children—Adam, Ben, Chad, and Deb—were gathered around him, calling out, trying to wake him. When they saw Clara approaching, their eyes lit up all at once, and they almost instinctively dropped Lester and ran toward her.
"Mom!"
"Auntie!"
They clustered behind her, eyes flicking between her fresh new clothes and the fully loaded ox cart on the bridge. It was obvious she'd brought back a great harvest, and the kids couldn't hide their joy.
Clara's expression softened a little when she looked at them. She patted each of their heads gently and said in a calm voice,"Adam, Ben, take your brother and sister inside."
The children hesitated, glancing at the man lying on the ground. Clara repeated herself,"Go on. I'll handle things here."
Adam looked at her deeply, as if trying to gauge whether she really meant to deal with that man. After a few seconds' pause, he finally nodded and led his siblings inside.
As soon as the four children shut the door behind them, Clara raised her knife with a sharp shing! sound and, like a gust of wind, pressed it straight against Billy Lin's neck.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd of villagers and the Liew family.
Billy Lin's men raised their weapons at once and surrounded Clara, ready to act.
"Anyone moves, I'll kill him!" Clara barked.
The blade was ice-cold against Billy's neck, the metallic scent of dried blood wafting up from the hilt. His skin erupted in goosebumps. He quickly shouted at his men:
"Stand down! Don't move!"
Then he turned a cold eye on Clara."Mrs. Qin, what's the meaning of this?"
Clara glanced at the half-dead man on the ground."Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"
Weren't they supposed to not bring him back alive? So what was this?
Billy Lin's face darkened. "Lester wasn't wrong about you. You really are a venomous woman. I brought him back alive out of the kindness of my heart. You're not even grateful—and you're trying to kill me?"
Clara gave a cold laugh. "Oh, you brought him back, sure. But what about the debt? That just disappears?"
"Of course not!" Billy snapped without even thinking.
Clara's eyes narrowed dangerously. The killing intent around her was palpable—she genuinely looked like she wanted to end them all right there.
Billy felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't expected Lester's wife to be so fierce.
The last time he saw her, he thought she was just a tough, loud woman with brute strength. Only today did he realize: she was no ordinary peasant woman. She knew martial arts—and not the backyard kind either.
If he'd known this earlier, he'd never have come in person.
Just as he was about to beg her not to be rash, Clara suddenly sheathed her knife and held out her hand.
Billy blinked, confused. He touched his neck—still intact—and let out a breath of relief.
"…What?" he asked warily.
"The IOU."
Billy hurriedly waved back his men, who'd been waiting to strike. Did they really think their scrappy little skills could take on this she-devil?
Still watching Clara out of the corner of his eye, he slowly took out the note he'd just shown to Old Walter and the others.
The paper was full of clumsy, slanted writing—Lester's handwriting.
Back when he was a boy, Walter had hoped that the school teacher could educate this rebellious son, so the whole family tightened their belts and scraped together some tuition to send him to school for two years, during which he learned a few scribbles.
The note read:Lester Liew borrowed 20 taels of silver from Billy Lin. To be repaid with 2 taels interest (22 total) in two months. For each day overdue, add 1 tael.
The date? July 30th.
Now it was October 28th. Twenty-eight days past due.
Total repayment: 50 taels.
Clara swore under her breath. "Shit!"
Exactly the same amount as the emergency savings she'd set aside.
Seriously? Could life be any more dramatic?
The Liew family, scraping by all year on farming and weaving, barely managed to save two or three taels. For anyone in Liew Clan Village, 50 taels was a staggering, astronomical sum.
If Lester hadn't already been half-dead on the ground, Old Walter might've beaten him to death right then and there.
Clara felt the same. Her fists clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched again. The grinding of her back teeth was loud and harsh—almost frightening.
Billy Lin, eyes sharp, snatched the IOU back and stepped away two paces, saying helplessly:
"Our money doesn't fall from the sky either. We've got old folks to feed and kids to raise. All our families rely on us. If we don't get this money back, we're finished too."
His words made it sound like he was the victim here.
Doreen and Kate glanced at the ox cart loaded with goods and were about to ask if Clara had managed a big haul on this trip—maybe she could use it to pay off the debt?
But before they could speak, Old Walter and Martha both shot them fierce glares to keep their mouths shut.
Clara took a deep breath, but the rage still didn't subside. With a fierce stomp, she kicked Lester hard right on the rear.
His body trembled.
Eyes shut tight.
Didn't dare to move.
Absolutely didn't dare to move.
(End of Chapter)