TKTWC 10

Chapter 10

Little Clever Ideas**

With Sister Sun and the grain shop owner taking the lead, everything that followed fell into place naturally.

Some were still waiting and watching, while others had already gone home to fetch their grain. Before long, people came carrying bags large and small to donate, forming a modest queue.

Liu Yi sent someone back to find helpers, then sat down herself to record each donor’s name and the amount contributed, even having them press their thumbprints to confirm—clear and proper.

As for the amounts donated, they varied. Those who were more familiar donated more. Liu Yi sometimes knew the circumstances of certain households, and if she felt the amount was too much, she would advise them to donate less.

“First make sure your own household has enough to eat. If you get the chance, help spread the word to others.” She said this to every single person.

Of course, there were also some opportunists who brought only a sheng of rice—or even half a sheng—just to get their names registered, aiming to secure a slot for free schooling later.

If they ended up getting an education, great; if not, they wouldn’t lose much either.

Liu Yi showed no neglect toward such actions either. She still bowed seriously and thanked each one.

The policy was her own proposal. Even if someone donated just a single grain of rice, she would still honor her promise.

Moreover, offering free education as a perk made everyone want it. If she ever truly wanted to promote universal compulsory education in the future, plenty of people would be unwilling to come anyway.

Consider it one of her little clever ideas.

—

As dusk gradually fell, the queue thinned out considerably.

Many hadn’t brought their grain with them—their homes were too far to make a round trip in one day. They promised to come tomorrow and even made a point of letting Liu Yi know.

Seeing that things were winding down, she began packing up. In the distance, she noticed a mother and daughter carrying a small bag of rice, nudging each other back and forth, neither willing to step forward on their own.

When the mother saw Liu Yi looking at them, she gave her daughter a shove, pushing the girl forward.

The girl was a bit younger than Liu Yi, her face flushed bright red. She was especially short—she looked like she might shrink under the stage if she lowered her head.

“Is this young lady here to donate grain too?” Liu Yi asked gently.

“Yes!” The girl quickly responded, then hurriedly added, “But we’re not here to take up a schooling spot! Our family has no male heirs—we don’t need to study!”

After saying that, perhaps realizing she had been too abrupt, she added a soft “Master Yi.”

Liu Yi took the small bag of rice and, noticing the worn clothing of the girl and her mother, understood the situation.

“Girls can study too.” Liu Yi picked up her brush and smiled at the girl. “What’s your name?”

The girl glanced back at her mother. Seeing her nod, she turned back shyly and said, “Xing’er.”

“Do you have enough food at home?”

“We do.” The girl said softly. “…But not much, so this is all we can donate.”

“Kindness isn’t measured by quantity.” Liu Yi neatly wrote Xing’er’s name in the register and, just as she had done with everyone else, bowed to the girl.

“Alright, go home with your mother. When the war is over, come to my school and study.”

“Okay!” The girl’s face grew even redder, and she kept looking back at Liu Yi as she walked away.

Seeing no one else coming, Liu Yi called for the work to be wrapped up.

Several yamen runners had brought carts beforehand and loaded the grain onto them, stacking them several layers high.

They had apparently underestimated the people’s enthusiasm—several runners couldn’t even budge one cart. Liu Yi went to help, but even with her, there wasn’t much improvement.

A few passersby came over to push as well. Among them, one man was especially tall and strong—he managed to move the heaviest cart all by himself.

With others chanting in unison, they finally got the grain delivered to the government office.

The chief clerk of Yuyang was already waiting at the office. From tomorrow onward, any donated grain would be sent there first, then collectively moved to Yuyang’s granaries.

“Thank you all for your help.” Liu Yi expressed her gratitude to everyone.

She wanted to get to know that strong man, but by the time she looked around, he had already disappeared.

—

Walking home under the moonlight, her parents still hadn’t returned. It seemed their fundraising wasn’t going so smoothly either.

Under the eaves of her small courtyard, a few baskets of coal, lime, several bolts of white cloth, and a jug of tung oil had been placed—all items from the list she had made that morning.

“Miss is back.” Xiao Shan heard the noise and came out. Seeing Liu Yi inspecting the goods, she quickly reported.

“Miss, everything you requested has been purchased. The merchants said that coal and lime would get damp if left out in the open, so I had most of it sent to the warehouse, leaving only a small portion here.”

“Very good.” Liu Yi was tired, but her eyes sparkled as she looked at Xiao Shan. “You’re very thorough—you thought of things I didn’t even consider.”

Xiao Shan was overjoyed: “It’s because Miss taught me well.”

“And what about this qin?” Liu Yi went to the stone table and touched the instrument she had placed there before leaving that morning. “It’s been sitting out all day—you didn’t put it away for me?”

Xiao Shan immediately straightened up and replied seriously: “Miss placed it there herself. Without your instruction, I didn’t dare move it.”

Liu Yi nodded. If Xiao Shan lived in modern times, she’d easily be an elite secretary earning tens of thousands a month. Even without Liu Yi in the future, she wouldn’t need to worry too much about her.

“I left the qin here to predict the weather for the next few days,” Liu Yi explained to her. “If it’s going to rain, the strings will loosen. If it’s too dry, they’ll tighten.”

She plucked the strings back and forth—the feel and tone were no different from that morning. There should be no rain in the next two days, so it was safe to prepare the grain out in the open.

“I see.” Xiao Shan marveled once again that her mistress knew everything. “So Miss is worried about the grain getting soaked by rain?”

Liu Yi shook her head: “Rain during transport isn’t actually a big problem. Heavy rain this season usually has warning signs—the army will find shelter in advance or set up temporary sheds. The kind of downpour you’re imagining soaking the grain won’t actually happen.”

“Then…” Xiao Shan was puzzled.

“The rain itself isn’t the problem. It’s the moisture that comes with rain—that can easily make the grain damp, moldy, rot, and attract insects.”

Liu Yi picked up a basket of coal: “I’m going to the back side room. Keep watch for me.”

She looked down at her already blackened palms: “Actually, never mind. Go to sleep first—there’s a whole busy day tomorrow. Wake up early and heat some water for me. I’ll probably be pretty dirty when I come out.”

Xiao Shan understood and agreed.

There was a detached side room in the back of the mistress’s courtyard, containing many things she had never seen before.

Her mistress had never mentioned these things to anyone, nor explained what they were for. Sometimes she would stay in there all day, and there would even be rumbling and crackling sounds.

But in truth, if Liu Yi’s modern-day advisor and classmates could see what she was doing in that side room, they would have mocked her mercilessly.

There was nothing particularly special inside. The most curious thing was an alchemy furnace.