Chapter 185: You Want to Cheat
The mood at the graveside was heavy, when Clara, gazing at the mountains opposite, suddenly said with a tone of admiration:
“This place really does have a wonderful view.”
She wore an expression that clearly meant: If only I could be buried in such a place when I die.
The grieving father and sons froze mid-movement. Ah—truly the destroyer of atmospheres!
The weeds had been cleared away, the sunken mound refilled with fresh earth, and the wooden marker wiped clean. At last, the grave looked like a grave again.
For once, Lester Liew dropped his usual careless air; guilt flickered in his eyes as he led his four children in a proper round of offerings.
Clara waited patiently at the side, idly plucking a handful of tender wild vegetable shoots that had just broken through the soil—she intended to cook them into soup later.
Adam and Ben spoke to their birth mother’s grave as if she were right before them, telling her how well they were living now, how their stepmother had taught them many skills, and urging her not to worry.
Lester hastily followed: “Mo, you can rest easy and reincarnate. Don’t cling to me. In the next life, may you find a good family and marry into wealth.”
Deb could no longer bear her father’s self-absorbed words. She scrunched her little brows, tilted her head at him, and declared, “Father, you’re shameless.”
Lester waved her off. “Go, go, stand aside.”
What did a child know anyway? She wasn’t the one haunted by nightmares.
After a final round of bows, they gathered their things and called Clara to return with them.
On the way back, Lester could feel Clara’s gaze on him. Her staring prickled his skin until he finally blurted out:
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Lester Liew,” Clara said coolly, “I think you actually have a shred of humanity.”
“Eh?” He blinked, startled. Was that… a compliment? Or an insult?
Clara only curved her lips in a half-smile, offered no further explanation, and quickened her pace to reach the house first.
Lester followed, baffled. He put down the basket, got the children to wash up, and then, awkwardly, shuffled into the hall where Clara sat. He stood there fidgeting, eyes darting toward her.
“Um… I have something to say. Promise you won’t get angry?” he ventured timidly.
Clara lifted her head slightly. Though seated, her gaze alone made Lester feel as if he’d shrunk a whole head shorter.
Knowing she had little patience, he hurried on:
“I want to repair Mo’s grave properly. Wife, could you lend me some money first? I swear, once I earn more, I’ll repay you right away!”
Clara’s silence stretched. Lester’s heart sank—surely she would refuse.
But to his astonishment, Clara rose, went into the bedroom, and came back tossing a small piece of silver into his arms. It weighed about two taels.
Lester caught it in disbelief, staring at her. “Wife, you—you…”
“Make good use of it. In a few days you’ll be leaving for the academy,” Clara cut off his babbling coldly.
Lester quickly agreed, muttered a thank you, and hurried out with the silver to hire help.
Halfway down the path, he thought of his life and the people around him, and gave a bitter laugh. So it seemed—everyone had more conscience than he did. He really was the worst of the lot.
Clara yawned, drowsy, and headed toward her room for an afternoon nap.
But just as she reached the courtyard—thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk!—four sharp knocks of foreheads on the ground. Adam, with his three siblings, knelt before her and kowtowed.
When they lifted their heads, Adam and Ben’s eyes were red-rimmed. Chad and Deb, pressed down by their elder brothers to bow, hissed through their teeth; those knocks had really hurt.
Clara leapt back a step into the hall. “What are you doing?”
Adam pulled his siblings to their feet and said solemnly, “Aunt Clara, thank you for repairing our mother’s grave.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say empty words about future repayment. For him, there were only two mothers he would ever recognize: one deceased, and one living—her.
“Are you done?” Clara asked.
Adam nodded.
“Then no need for thanks. I’m going to rest.”
Calmly, Clara brushed past them. But once she shut the bedroom door, her lips curved into the faintest smile—unexpected, but not unwelcome.
She wondered what kind of woman Madam Mo had been, that even in such harsh circumstances, her four children still kept such kind hearts.
After repairing his late wife’s grave, Lester went back to the county academy to prepare for the County Scholar preliminary exam in February.
Before leaving, he went to the village chief and the clan head to obtain the identification documents required for the exam. He had no intention of returning home in between—better to save the time.
As for whether he could actually pass with such little preparation—Clara found it dubious.
But Lester, with a mysterious air, whispered before leaving:
“Wife, don’t worry. I already asked around. The preliminary exam is easy to pass, as long as you have someone on the inside—”
He rubbed his fingers together meaningfully and winked at her.
Clara arched a brow. “You want to cheat?”
“Merciful heavens—shh!” Lester nearly fainted from fright. They were conspiring here, and she shouted it aloud!
He darted outside to check. Good—children all gone out. Only the two of them at home.
This time he was more careful, closing the door and even cracking the window so he could watch the entrance while talking.
Clara had guessed right—he did plan to cheat. And he wasn’t alone. Since the preliminary exam was held in the county itself, anyone with means would try to grease palms, just in case.
The exam took place in one large hall with all candidates together. If he could sit next to a strong scholar, his chances of passing would soar.
With luck, if the topics were ones he could crib, he’d surely pass.
Passing the preliminary would make all later exams easier. By then he’d have time to prepare and make a proper push.
But the formal County Exam in May was different—far stricter invigilation, harder questions. Even if he managed to sit by a learned candidate, passing would be extremely difficult.
So that exam, as Clara said, would be more about “gaining experience.”
Clara, hearing his clear, methodical analysis, realized he had indeed thought it through carefully.
“Lester Liew, I’m impressed—you’ve even devised your own strategy guide.” She circled him with a tsk-tsk of mock admiration.
Puffed with rare pride at being praised, Lester straightened his chest. “Well of course. Once bitten, twice shy. Poor folk like us have nothing—if we want to make it, we have to use whatever tricks we can.”
“What about the risk?” Clara asked.
“Almost none,” Lester said eagerly. “No one ever admits they’ve taken a bribe. And the preliminary isn’t strict anyway. Do you know how County Scholar Fan passed his preliminaries?”
Clara hazarded, “He also swapped seats?”
Lester nodded heavily. How else would he know the trick?
So when he returned to the academy, he carried an extra ten taels of silver in his pocket.
(End of Chapter)
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