Chapter 31: Not Satisfied with the Meal

Clara dug through the pile of old clothes and pulled out the set she had worn before. It had already been scrubbed with wood ash—no way she could wash it with water; it would've been ruined for sure.

The scent of blood was gone now. The clothes were a bit small, but they'd have to do.

"Put your clothes on properly. Don't go catching a cold again."

She tossed the clothes at Lester Liew and instructed, "For the next month, we'll have people helping out at home. Besides our family's three meals a day, we'll also need to prepare lunch for everyone. You're not fully healed yet, so just stick to lighter chores for now. Cook the meals, and if there's time afterward, do a bit of housework."

As she spoke, she pulled out a string of copper coins from her money pouch and handed it to him—300 in total.

"There's no more vegetables at home. Use this to buy some. I've still got a bit of pork left from the other day—it's about to spoil, so cook it all today."

"From now on, we'll have meat once every five days. Cook it soft for breakfast, make it a bit firmer for dinner."

"Oh, and I eat a lot. Make sure to cook extra. If I'm not full, I get real cranky."

What she might do when cranky… even she wasn't sure.

After giving her instructions, Clara urged him to hurry up, then shut the door behind her, grabbed a basket, and headed toward the river.

Meanwhile, Lester, who had been racking his brains over how to protect his dignity, stared dumbfounded at the string of coins he'd been searching for all yesterday afternoon. He froze for a full five seconds.

She just… gave him the money?

A cold wind blew past. Lester shivered and let out a massive sneeze.

He hurriedly pulled on the ill-fitting hemp robe. With two layers on, he finally felt a bit warmer.

He wiped off the herbal paste from his face. The swelling had gone down enough that one could catch glimpses of his once-handsome features.

He hadn't bathed or groomed in two days. His waist-length hair was a tangled mess, falling down his back, with a few strands draped over his eyes, giving him a pale, sickly look.

Lester was lean, but not scrawny. He had height and excellent proportions. Even wrapped in rags, he gave off a certain forlorn charm.

With his "battle-scarred" face, he now radiated a fragile and broken aura that might inspire pity.

But that vibe didn't last three seconds. The moment his eyes landed on the copper coins, his true nature showed—greedy and calculating.

Veggies don't cost much, he thought smugly.

His two sisters-in-law at the old house had planted plenty—it was their land anyway. What, were they going to charge him for a handful of greens?

And there were other plots in the village too. These were all neighbors. A handful of veggies wasn't worth anything. He'd just take some from this house today, another tomorrow. That 300 coins? All his.

Satisfied with his plan, Lester hid the copper coins away in the house, locked the door, and stepped out empty-handed.

In front and behind the house were relatives and villagers who had come to help. Clara had gone to the river and wasn't around.

Seeing Lester emerge, everyone greeted him, asking where he was off to and how he was feeling.

Two of his uncles praised Clara, saying he was lucky to marry such a capable woman. Even a good-for-nothing like him was now living in a tiled house.

Lester was all smiles at first, but his grin froze when he heard the last part.

Then he had a thought—maybe they were actually complimenting his abilities?

He flicked his messy hair with smugness and said, "Well, of course. Do you know who I am? There's no one in all of Willowridge County who can match my good looks!"

"There are enough girls and married women wanting to be my concubine to form a line from Liew Clan Village all the way to the county! If not for the fact that this woman has strength and can make money, would I have let her through the gates of the Liew household? Let alone make her the main wife?"

The relatives instantly fell silent. They didn't even bother rolling their eyes—just buried themselves in work.

Lester didn't care if anyone backed him up. After two days of lying low, he was itching to let off some steam!

Feeling pleased with himself, hands behind his back, he strolled toward the river in his usual lazy manner, imagining which plot he could raid for vegetables.

And then—bam.

Right on the bridge stood Clara, balanced effortlessly with two full baskets of stone.

Lester's scalp went numb.

Clara, face emotionless, walked steadily toward him. Lester forced a smile. "Wife, there you are! I was just about to buy some veggies. What would you like to eat? I'll cook it for you."

"…"

She didn't respond—just walked past him, casting a single glance his way.

That one glance—so full of meaning.

Lester gulped hard. She definitely heard what I said!

He instinctively raised his arm to shield his face. But no slap came.

Only when he felt her presence leave did he realize his whole body had frozen.

He was furious—at himself, at his body for betraying him, at the cold sweat that broke out every time that fierce woman came near!

Lester still didn't understand. There was a thing called killing intent.

He stood still a moment, then when he regained movement, broke into a trot back toward the village. With houses and trees to block the view, he wiped his forehead and let out a long sigh.

Twenty workers had come to help today. From the old Liew house, aside from Old Walter and Brandon who were fertilizing the fields, even Caleb and Logan had shown up.

Even eight-year-old Ryder came to help collect stones.

With many hands, the work went fast. Uncle Joss oversaw the operation. Some people dug the foundation, some picked and carried stones, others worked on the soil.

It was the first day, mostly prepping materials.

By noon, the foundation of the courtyard wall had started to take shape, and the layout for the new rooms was finalized.

Clara was quite satisfied with the efficiency.

What she wasn't satisfied with—was lunch.

A big pot of thick-ish grain porridge—millet and rice, with a few finger-sized slivers of leafy greens mixed in.

Each worker got a full bowl.

Honestly, for a construction meal, it wasn't bad. But! It had no flavor!

After a whole morning of backbreaking work—Clara being one of the main workers—she'd been looking forward to something oily and satisfying.

But that first spoonful of what might generously be called "vegetable porridge"? Bland. Tasteless.

How to describe the disappointment?

Like working under the blazing sun on a steel frame all day, dreaming of cold watermelon to quench your thirst, only to find the melon warm—and not even sweet!

Clara nearly snapped then and there. She almost stabbed the cook in front of everyone.

Her greatest joy was eating. Her biggest pet peeve? A bad meal.

Because lunch had been so unsatisfying, Clara's face stayed stormy the entire afternoon, her whole body radiating a murderous "don't mess with me" energy.

Even Uncle Joss, who usually barked at the younger lads, lowered his voice instinctively around her.

Lester, crouching by the water tank washing dishes, kept sneaking peeks at her, watching her reaction. Seeing she hadn't exploded yet, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Halfway through that sigh—dainty leather boots appeared in his field of view.

Lester: o((⊙﹏⊙))o!!!

(End of Chapter)