The brothers, their pride barely bruised, hadn't even realized the truth yet. Seeing even more fallen branches ahead beneath the forest canopy, they lit up with joy and were about to dash forward to collect them.
Clara called them back and waved for them to follow her up the hill.
This little forest the villagers used for chopping firewood only had small critters lurking about. As long as an adult kept watch, it was relatively safe.
The two boys were a little confused, but obediently followed her up the slope.
Midway up the hill, Clara picked a spot thick with trees, tossed down a coil of rope, and told the boys to wait on a small flat clearing. Then she grabbed the hatchet and disappeared into the woods.
She started by chopping down two forked branches, which she fashioned into a three-legged rack for Adam, before heading deeper in to hack away at firewood.
Her speed was astonishing. Logs as thick as a child's arm came flying out from the undergrowth one after another, quickly piling into a neat heap.
The boys exchanged excited glances. So much firewood!
But soon they realized—this was way too much.
They figured their stepmother must be planning to haul some home today and save the rest for another trip.
They never expected Clara to bind up all the wood—enough for two grown men to carry in two separate trips—into two large bundles, pick the sturdiest stick as a yoke, and just sling it over her shoulders like it was nothing.
She tested a few steps on the spot and felt it was still a little light, so she grabbed a few more logs from Adam's pile and tucked them in. Satisfied, she nodded at the boys, signaling them to pick up their own gear and head home.
Adam had never seen a three-legged wood rack before. The villagers always bundled their firewood and carried it across their shoulders. If they were strong enough, they used a yoke.
But Clara set her burden down, lifted the rack, and rested it across Adam's small shoulders, guiding his hands to support the two legs on either side.
Over ten pounds of wood, but the rack evenly distributed the weight across his whole shoulder instead of just one point. Adam was stunned—this was so much easier to carry!
In the basket, Clara had pre-chopped thin kindling sticks—light and easy to ignite. Though it looked like a full load, it weighed just around eight or nine pounds.
Ben tried it on—totally manageable.
"Ready to walk?" Clara asked.
The boys nodded, hearts full of excitement.
Especially after glancing at the two massive bundles Clara carried. They were stunned—and awestruck.
They had never seen anyone carry more wood than their stepmother!
As the trio descended the mountain, they had to pass through the village fields to get home.
Villagers first noticed the unusual sight on Adam's shoulders. As they got closer, they saw the forked frame holding up the bundle, with Adam walking steadily while supporting the legs.
And yet—he was carrying more wood than usual!
Why hadn't they thought of making a rack like that before? It didn't even look complicated—just two forked branches with a plank in between. And it clearly saved shoulder pain.
Then their eyes were drawn to the moving mountain of wood.
Each bundle Clara carried was the size of two normal ones—combined, easily over 250 pounds.
"Hey, isn't that the new wife from the third Liew family?"
Finally, someone noticed the tiny figure hidden between the two massive bundles of firewood.
And to their shock—it was indeed Clara from the third Liew family.
"How does she have such strength?!"
The villagers stood in the fields, dumbfounded, staring after the three as they disappeared into the distance, their jaws slowly closing only when the trio was long gone.
And just like that, word spread throughout Liew Family Village that LesterLiew had married a strong-as-an-ox woman.
—
That evening, Clara brought all four children to the village well with the finished straw sandals to set up a stall. By then, she'd already earned herself a nickname—"The Mighty Shrew"
It was that time of day when folks had finished their fieldwork, but it wasn't yet dinnertime. People liked to gather around the well to rest and chat—perfect for business.
Some kids were playing under the tree by the well. When they spotted Clara, they shrieked in terror and scattered, hiding behind their parents and grandparents, sneaking peeks at her with wide eyes—half fearful, half curious.
Clara raised an eyebrow. Well, well. That cleared the perfect spot for her stall.
"Set it up," she told the four little 'Wi-Fi signals' lined up in front of her.
Chad and Deb dragged over a worn grass mat they'd dug out from home and spread it under the tree.
Adam and Ben untied the bundle of ten pairs of straw sandals and laid them out neatly.
Clara gave everything a once-over and then placed a wooden sign in front of the mat. On it, she had scrawled a few bold charcoal strokes:Straw Sandals – 3 copper coins per pair!
Clap, clap. All set.
Even if they feared the so-called "Mighty Shrew," the villagers couldn't help their curiosity and soon began crowding around to see what this little troop was selling.
But reading the sign was another story. Most villagers could only recognize the "three" and the "coin"—and even that was pushing it. A few literate folks helped interpret.
Clara patted Ben's shoulder. After a few days of observation, she'd discovered that this second boy had the thickest skin and the least shame. Perfect.
Ben took a big step forward, inhaled deeply, and bellowed:"Straw sandals for sale! Three copper coins a pair! Just three coins and these finely woven, comfortable, long-lasting straw sandals can be yours!"
His sudden shout startled everyone at first—but then they realized: Oh, it's just sandals.
Ben kept going, full of enthusiasm:"Only three copper coins! You won't be tricked, won't be cheated! Just three coins and a pair of premium, sturdy, handmade sandals is yours to take home!"
"If you're short on coins, we accept trade too!"
Three copper coins a pair—Clara had calculated this price carefully, factoring in the villagers' spending habits and the rough value of the sponge gourds and greens she'd bartered for yesterday.
Sure enough, the price tempted people—but the option to trade tempted them even more.
Sure, people joked about the "mighty stepmother," but jokes were one thing. A good bargain? That was serious business.
Sandals were something every household needed. With Ben shouting so passionately, two aunties finally crouched down in front of the stall.
Deb immediately grabbed a pair and handed them over."Auntie Zhou, my mama made these! They're really good—buy a pair, please?"
Clara blinked in surprise. She'd thought Deb was timid and clingy. She didn't expect the girl to take initiative in making a sale.
The kids were working so hard—even Clara, as the adult, felt too embarrassed to just stand there. She put on a smile and joined in, explaining how strong and well-made the sandals were, how much effort had gone into every pair.
Auntie Zhou, who Deb had recognized, examined the sandals carefully. They were indeed tightly woven and durable. The size looked right for her husband, who had been working hard in the fields lately—his sandals were falling apart. Time for new ones.
"Miss Clara, I'll take two pairs. Could you give me a little discount?" she asked tentatively.
Clara was straightforward. "Sure, you're our first customer. Five copper coins for both."
Getting a deal, Auntie Zhou beamed. She set aside the sandals and ran home to fetch the coins.
She came trotting back, counted the five coins three times before handing them over, then left, delighted.
Their first sale—two pairs at once! The Liew siblings all beamed.
Ben shouted even louder. Deb, confident now, boldly approached more people, acting cute and sweet.
She deliberately targeted the aunties—she'd realized they were the ones who actually had money on them.
Chad, inspired by his younger sister's bravery, mustered his courage and followed her. In a small voice, he asked, "Would you like some sandals? Please buy a pair."
Together, the twins sold another pair and looked at Clara, eyes shining, waiting for praise.
Despite their shabby clothes, the kids had clean faces and tidy hair buns. They looked neat and charming.
Business picked up. Someone brought over some chipped bowls to trade—five slightly cracked porcelain bowls for one pair of sandals.
Another granny brought three eggs and took a pair in exchange.
Time flew. Before they knew it, the sun had set. Families headed home for dinner, leaving only Clara and the four children under the tree, counting their earnings in excited whispers.
(End of Chapter)