Chapter 69: Please Step to the Back
Even before falling asleep that night, Lester Liew was still brooding over Clara snatching away his precious opportunity to go out.
In his head, he imagined countless scenarios where she suffered as payback, just to soothe his bruised ego.
And then, in the next moment—he was eating his words.
At three in the morning, the rustling sounds of someone rising stirred from Clara's room. Lester, bleary-eyed and bone-weary, felt like the bed had grown arms to restrain him. Amidst the fog of half-consciousness, one thought floated up in his mind: "Thank goodness it's not me crawling out of bed at this godforsaken hour."
The courtyard gate opened, then clicked shut quietly.
There was no moon tonight. The world outside was pitch-black, the kind of darkness where one couldn't even see their own hand. Clara lit a torch and, braving the cool breeze of early summer, moved swiftly toward Riverbend Village.
At the same time, over in Riverbend, Sonny had guessed the time just right. He got up at four-thirty, dressed, washed, and even boiled himself a small pot of dough-drop soup. After dousing his oil lamp, he followed the faint light toward the village entrance.
From afar, he saw someone already standing at the crossroads with a torch. The flickering firelight danced around a slender figure, and he immediately waved excitedly.
"Bro!"
"I didn't expect you to be this early. I thought you'd dally around again, so I purposely came a little late. You haven't been waiting long, have you?"
The figure turned around.
"oh my god!" Sonny stumbled back nearly ten meters in fright.
Seeing a woman holding a torch in the dead of night was enough to spook anyone!
After a good half-minute of collecting himself and confirming she wasn't some ghost, he blinked and asked in confusion, "Who are you? Where's my Bro?"
"You mean Lester Liew?"
Sonny nodded furiously. Huh, her voice was surprisingly pleasant.
And since she knew Lester's full name, she had to be someone close.
"I'm his wife, Clara. Lester suddenly came down with something, so I'm stepping in for him as the day laborer," she replied with a faint smile.
Sonny's jaw dropped. So this was the infamous fierce wife who, according to Bro, drank beast blood for breakfast?
She didn't look the part at all. She spoke gently. She even smiled.
"Ah, so it's you, Sister-in-law. You nearly scared the life outta me." Sonny scratched his head and gave an awkward laugh. The ghost theory quickly went out the window—just a misunderstanding.
"But, uh… Lady Clara, the manor's only hiring men for labor. If you go…"
"I know what you mean," Clara cut in smoothly, "But I don't want to miss this chance. Whether or not they take me, I want to at least try. Don't you agree?"
Then, with a gesture toward the road, "Let's walk and talk."
Sonny nodded and followed. Every now and then, he snuck a glance at Clara. Each time she responded with a polite smile, eyes calm and clear.
He scratched his head again. Could Bro be blind or something? She seemed perfectly nice.
"Hey, Sister-in-law, what's Lester sick with?"
"It came on suddenly," Clara said.
"Oh…" Sonny trailed off, not quite sure how to respond.
But walking in silence felt awkward too. He tried a few more conversation starters, all of which Clara shut down with a "Mm," "Oh," or "Mm-hmm."
Eventually, he gave up and just focused on the road. After all, they were still a man and a woman walking alone—it was probably for the best.
What truly caught him off guard, though, was Clara's speed. She walked fast. So fast that if he lost focus for even a second, he'd end up trailing behind. It was like she was gliding.
"Brother Sonny," Clara said calmly, "let's hurry. We want to be among the first arrivals."
Sonny nodded. As they picked up the pace, they nearly broke into a jog. They reached Goldstone Town just before six o'clock.
Goldstone had no city walls and was nestled at the foot of a mountain range. Farmlands and forests surrounded the settlement. A single old stone road cut through the center, flanked by a few shops. On normal days, most of them stayed shuttered.
Only the rice shop, oil store, and meat stalls in the town center opened daily.
It was still early. The streets were empty except for a few roosters crowing and dogs barking from behind shuttered windows.
Mr. Ding's manor was at the eastern edge of town, ringed by fertile fields. The estate itself had three courtyards, white walls, black-tiled roofs, a pair of crimson doors hung with brass qilin knockers, and twin stone lions guarding the entrance—very stately.
Clara and Sonny were the first to arrive. No one else was there yet.
Sonny leaned over and whispered that Mr. Ding was a certified scholar and a man even the county magistrate treated with respect. He warned Clara to mind her manners.
"Do I need to kneel?" Clara asked, testing.
"No, not necessarily. He's not an official—more like a respected academic. Up to you, really."
"Oh." Clara gave a noncommittal nod. Whether she understood or not, Sonny couldn't say. Since they weren't that familiar, he didn't press it.
They didn't dare knock. So they waited outside the gates.
Gradually, others began to show up. When they saw a woman among them, many looked surprised. But since no one knew each other, nobody said anything. Everyone stood in line quietly, according to when they arrived.
Of course, someone always broke the unspoken rules.
Three latecomers tried to cut ahead of Clara and Sonny. Sonny snapped, "Hey! To the back! We got here first. Can't you see everyone else is lining up properly?"
The trio turned and gave them both a once-over. Their eyes paused on Clara, and they sneered. One of them chuckled and said nothing. Instead, they planted themselves right in front of Sonny and Clara.
Sonny looked behind. The others in line were clearly angry but didn't dare speak up—after all, it was three against one, and the newcomers looked burly and aggressive.
He burned with frustration. Just as he was about to either pick a fight or swallow his pride, Clara stepped forward, placed a hand on one of the men's shoulders, and said quietly:
"Please step to the back."
Her tone was calm, but her gaze carried an innate authority. It wasn't loud or forceful, but it couldn't be ignored.
The three were momentarily stunned. Then one of them rolled his eyes and turned away, brushing her off like she didn't matter.
One of them muttered, "What a weird world. Even women think they can be laborers now. What's she gonna do with those dainty arms and legs—braid the rice stalks?"
They chuckled to themselves with pointed glances, sharing some crude inside joke.
Honestly, it had been a long time since Clara had heard trash talk like that.
In the post-apocalyptic world she came from, strength spoke louder than words. Even a girl barely thirteen or fourteen could command respect. If you managed to survive in that world, no matter your age or gender, you had your value—be it in medicine, agriculture, or mechanics. Everyone had a skill.
Sonny, meanwhile, had reached his limit. How could he explain himself to Lester if things went south? He wasn't afraid of a brawl—he even raised his fists, ready to strike.
What he didn't expect was that the woman beside him would move faster than he did.
(End of Chapter)
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