"I said—line—up—properly!"
Clara's words were still hanging in the air when three dark figures suddenly traced elegant arcs through the sky above everyone's heads.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Three muffled crashes echoed behind them. Sonny, who had just raised his fist, turned his head in astonishment—
The three men who had been standing in front of him moments ago were now sprawled at the back of the line, looking completely dazed, as if they hadn't yet realized what just happened.
The clearing fell silent for a few seconds before cries of pain broke out. The trio curled up on the ground, groaning as if their organs had been rearranged.
Sonny looked from the groaning men on the ground back to Clara, who stood beside him, arms crossed. His throat suddenly felt stuffed with cotton. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out—his face flushed red from holding it in.
Clara didn't even glance at the three who had been thrown. Everyone else in line looked around in confusion, completely unaware of how the three men had gone flying.
She'd moved so fast that the average person simply couldn't react.
Only the three men on the ground knew what happened. Gritting their teeth through the pain, they leaned on each other and staggered to their feet, pointing furiously at the straight-backed woman in front of the line.
But Clara merely tilted her head slightly, her gaze not even on them but on the dusty ground.
An icy chill shot up from their soles to their crowns. The trio involuntarily shivered.
The mountain wind swept past them, like a blade of killing intent slicing through their hearts and tightening their chests.
Her plain blue robe fluttered, and her high ponytail danced wildly in the wind—like a vengeful spirit about to draw its blade.
Overwhelmed by the sheer dominance in the air, their mental defenses collapsed instantly.
They didn't dare utter another word, didn't even dare to glance her way. Scrambling like frightened dogs, they fled straight into the woods.
Seeing the formerly aggressive trio flee like madmen, the rest of the men waiting to be hired finally realized—they'd been thrown by that woman at the front of the line.
"S-Sis-in-law, you…" Sonny stammered.
Clara gave him a small, reassuring smile, then turned her calm gaze to the dozen or so people behind them.
"In my view, whether you're a man or a woman, if you've got the skills, you've earned the right to compete."
"I got up early to apply, which is why I'm first in line. Those who arrived later should line up behind us—this is only fair."
Her words were both an explanation and a warning: anyone else who tried to cut would meet the same fate as the last three.
The crowd nodded one after another in agreement.
Thankfully, those who came after fell into line without causing further trouble.
As the hour approached, the once loosely scattered line grew increasingly orderly.
Of course, Clara and Sonny still stood at the front.
When the first light of dawn painted the horizon red, the gates of the Ding Estate finally creaked open.
A middle-aged man in fine silk, wearing a square hat, emerged alongside a butler-like attendant.
"Who was making a racket outside my door just now?" the man asked brusquely.
Sonny whispered, "That's Master Ding."
Clara nodded and stepped forward, nodding at Master Ding with neither arrogance nor fear.
He looked her up and down, frowning. "You?"
His Butler was also surprised. "We're hiring for hard labor, not kitchen help."
"I'm here to apply for the labor job. And yes, I'm obviously a woman—must we keep pointing that out?" Clara replied flatly.
She wasn't even dressed like a man. The constant surprise at her gender was like dancing barefoot on her landmines.
The butler was stunned. Clara hadn't even batted an eye when throwing those three out of line, but now a single comment from him had riled her up.
Feeling awkward, he shut his mouth and looked at Master Ding.
What no one knew was that Master Ding had witnessed Clara flinging those men while peeking through the door crack earlier.
He'd nearly popped his eyeballs out of their sockets—never before had he seen such a powerful woman.
The butler had even whispered that, if not for her being a woman, they should hire her as a personal guard.
But maybe she wouldn't be willing anyway.
"I need ten laborers to harvest timber for a school I'm building for the younger generation. Can you cut wood?" Master Ding asked Clara.
Now that they'd reached the interview stage, Clara wasn't going to back down.
"I can," she answered confidently, even pulling Sonny forward. "He's even more skilled than I am—a master woodcutter."
Inside, Sonny screamed.
He didn't know a damn thing about lumbering! One wrong cut and a tree could crush him to death!
Clara shot him a "just roll with it" look, and Sonny swallowed hard, nervously nodding at Master Ding.
Master Ding eyed them cautiously. "What's your relationship?"
Clara answered smoothly, "He's my husband's sworn brother. My husband fell ill suddenly, so I came in his place."
Once Master Ding heard she had a husband, he oddly felt more at ease. He motioned for the butler to record their names—both were hired.
Sonny was overjoyed, bowing deeply in thanks as he followed the butler into the courtyard to register.
Their names and birthplaces were jotted down, and they were each handed a wooden tag—proof of employment.
"Work starts at the hour of the dragon, ends at the end of the hour of the monkey. Check in before work for breakfast. The foreman will lead the crew to the site. Lunch is delivered. Two meals a day plus ten coins per day. Sign here if there are no issues."
Clara mentally converted this into modern terms:
Work starts at 7 AM, ends at 5 PM. Two meals provided. Ten copper coins daily.
"How long's the lunch break?" Clara asked.
The butler blinked—no one had asked him that before. Most just did whatever the foreman said.
Still, he replied, "A quarter of an hour."
Fifteen minutes? That was barely enough time to eat, let alone use the bathroom.
Ten hours of work total. Clara rolled up her sleeve and stamped her fingerprint. It'll do.
After signing, she and Sonny stepped aside to wait.
Sonny was still buzzing. "Ten coins a day and meals too!"
He seemed to have completely forgotten the fact that neither of them knew how to cut timber.
Clara gave a soft "mm."
She'd assumed a manor house would be grand, but after entering, it looked like a typical old courtyard house—comparable to those in the capital.
Still, compared to the thatched huts in the village, this was practically a palace.
Sonny's excitement lasted until they arrived at the pine forest with Foreman Tim Ding —and were handed saws.
Only then did he remember, in sheer terror—
They didn't know how to cut trees.
(End of Chapter)
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