Chapter 32: Four Ungrateful Brats

"Plop!"

A few fresh river fish splashed into the water bucket as Clara tossed them in. Towering over the man holding a bowl, she instructed coolly:

"Add some water and keep them alive. We'll serve these for lunch tomorrow as a treat."

Lester Liew blinked curiously. "Where'd the fish come from?"

He leaned over and peeked into the bucket—four large and one small. The bigger ones were three fingers wide, the smallest two fingers. Out of water, the fish flopped around with gaping mouths.

Panicking, Lester quickly scooped a few ladles of water from the big vat into the bucket. As soon as the water poured in, the fish sprang back to life, wriggling and thrashing in the cramped space. Their tails collided with a splash, sending a spray of water right into Lester's face.

Clara's lips curled into a mocking smile at his stunned and pathetic look. She grabbed a bamboo sieve to cover the bucket and weighed it down with a rock to stop the fish from leaping out.

"Caught them from the river. I'm going back to finish up. And make sure you cook the meat for dinner tonight," she added pointedly before leaving.

Lester wiped his face and muttered an absent-minded "Alright…" But inside, he was panicking.

He didn't know how to cook.

At lunch today, he had fumbled his way through a pot of porridge, and that alone had been a disaster. He had already forgotten Clara's instructions from the morning about cooking the meat.

The chunk of pork was still hanging from a rafter in the side room. Three days old now—if the weather hadn't been cold lately, it might've already gone bad.

He took it down and sniffed it. No foul smell, but the color had dulled. It certainly wasn't fresh anymore.

Lester stood by the window in a daze, clutching the meat. He dug through every memory he had for a hint of how to prepare it. All he could remember was food already cooked and served on a plate.

Now, he had to cook it himself. If he failed, he feared he might not make it through the night.

The thought sent a wave of grief through him.

He was a grown man, a full seven feet tall! Since childhood, when had he ever needed to cook for himself? And in the entire Kingdom of Sheng, what self-respecting man would be caught slaving over a stove?

This was humiliation! She was setting him up to be the laughingstock of the entire village!

That woman Clara—how cruel and calculating she was!

The four kids were gathered at the bedside, playing a game of stone-hop. They saw their father staring blankly out the window and thought maybe he'd been hexed.

Ben called out cautiously, "Dad?"

That soft voice pulled Lester out of his tragic spiral. Like a drowning man grasping a straw, he turned around with renewed hope, weighing the pork in his hand.

"Do any of you know how to cook meat?"

Even little Chad and Deb nodded eagerly.

Lester cleared his throat and tried to regain his dignity. With a commanding tone, he pointed at Adam and Ben, planning to assign them the cooking. Chad and Deb could wash and prep the vegetables. All he'd have to do was supervise from behind the stove.

It sounded perfect. But he didn't stop to think if the kids would actually go along with it.

Adam frowned. "Auntie Clara gave this job to you, and now you want to pass it to us? Then what are you doing?"

Lester's inner voice screamed: What else? I lie down and watch you do it, of course!

Adam refused to even look at him again and went back to playing with his stones.

Ben's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Dad, I can teach you how to cook. But you've gotta split the coins Aunt Clara gave you."

"You little rascal! Already so greedy for money?" Lester's face twisted in frustration.

He'd finally gotten his hands on some copper coins—no way was he giving them up!

Ben had clearly anticipated the reaction and shrugged nonchalantly before returning to the game with his siblings, not sparing him another glance.

Lester nearly collapsed from sheer rage. He stormed over and hissed under his breath:

"Are you four even my flesh and blood? I'm your father! You won't even take a simple order from me?!"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Auntie Clara didn't assign us anything. If she had, Adam and I would've done it right away."

"Right, Adam?" he added.

Adam nodded without even looking up. He was genuinely worried. If their father kept acting like a deadbeat, Aunt Clara might actually divorce him.

And if she did, she wouldn't be their stepmother anymore, and wouldn't have any reason to care for them.

Of course, if she didn't mind, the four of them would definitely go with her.

He and Ben exchanged a glance—silent agreement reached.

Lester was fuming. He raised his hand to smack someone, but then he saw Chad and Deb staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Their matching round faces were so pure and sweet.

He took a deep breath. The hand stayed raised—but he couldn't bring himself to strike.

Frustrated, he began pacing the room, glancing outside now and then, tracking Clara's whereabouts. The sun was setting fast—he was running out of time.

"What kind of sins did I commit in my past life to raise four ungrateful brats?!" Lester yelled in impotent rage. His voice echoed through the room.

"…Fine. I'll pay!" he finally snarled through clenched teeth.

The four children looked at each other in delight. Ben immediately demanded, "One coin each!"

Lester gritted the words through his teeth. "Fine—!"

The four kids lined up with their palms outstretched. Massaging his aching temples, Lester led them to the main room and reluctantly pulled out the stash of copper coins. One coin per kid.

True to their word, the kids started sharing what they knew.

Adam had watched his aunt cook once—she had made a meat dish that day, so the process was vivid in his memory.

"First, clean the pot. Heat a thin layer of oil. Start with the fatty pieces of pork—high heat to render out the fat. Then add chopped scallions, ginger, and garlic. After that, throw in the sliced pork belly, add salt and sauce, and stir-fry until done."

"That's it?" Lester asked.

Adam nodded firmly. "That's it."

"If you've got extra vegetables, you can toss them in too. Anything with meat juice is bound to taste good," he added. "But we don't have much at home, so I didn't mention it earlier."

He looked at Lester seriously. "Dad, don't always upset Auntie Clara. If she decides to leave you, what'll you do then?"

And with that, he called his siblings and ran off cheerfully toward Peddler Liew's house in the village, oblivious to the smoke rising from Lester's ears.

"She's gonna divorce me?!" Lester slapped the stove angrily. "She's lucky I haven't divorced her yet!"

Still fuming, he looked around to make sure Clara wasn't nearby, then puffed up with smugness again.

Some relatives working nearby sighed at the sight of Lester muttering to himself at the stove.

"Well, that's a first—Old Walter's third son actually cooking for once."

"Never seen any man in this village at the stove before. Usually it's the women doing all the cooking. If a man's cooking… that's a sure sign there's a tigress at home."

"In most families, that'd be a joke. But in Lester's case? He deserves it."

(End of Chapter)