The night passed peacefully, and early the next morning, Qian Chunhua got up in a hurry.

Today she was taking Qingsong to see Master Qian’s private school. Only after finalizing the arrangements for her child’s schooling could she truly feel at ease.

Just as she had finished dressing, Zhao’s mother quietly came to the east wing.

“Chunhua, you’re up?” she asked softly.

Qian Chunhua quickly opened the door. “Mother.”

Zhao’s mother spoke quickly, “Chunhua, I overheard the third son last night—things outside are unstable lately. All the grain in the county has already been snapped up. Now that you’ve separated from the main family, you don’t have any grain on hand. Try to stockpile as much as you can.”

As she turned to leave, she added a pointed reminder, “Remember this well. Don’t take it lightly.”

Qian Chunhua understood.

It seemed both Zhao’s mother and Sun Meiping were aware of each other’s thoughts and had deliberately avoided alerting the men in the household to come secretly warn her.

Qian Chunhua quickly reassured her, “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll go buy grain in the county today.”

Only after receiving this promise did Zhao’s mother leave at ease.

From the kitchen next to the main house came the sounds of activity—Li Cuihong was already up.

Now that the Zhao family no longer had the hardworking and self-sacrificing Qian Chunhua, the daily task of cooking had fallen to Li Cuihong’s branch.

She no longer brought up Zhao Xiaojun’s marriage prospects or talked about how she needed to rest and be pampered.

Now, she was assigning every task to her daughter.

Zhao Xiaojun, who was now being yelled at and beaten by Li Cuihong daily, was constantly busy.

The leisurely days of the past were gone, leaving only resentment in her heart.

…

After dressing the children, Qian Chunhua picked up Zhao Qingfeng, while Zhao Qingsong held onto Zhao Xiaoling’s hand.

The four of them walked to the Qian family home together.

Qian’s mother was making steamed buns.

There was still a lot of the leftover lard-fried cabbage filling from last night, just enough for this morning’s buns. A large pot of white rice porridge was also boiling on the stove.

The snow-white rice rolled in the pot, steaming hot and giving off a delicious fragrance that made everyone’s mouth water.

The three children sniffed the aroma and swallowed eagerly.

Qian’s mother smiled and said, “Go wash your hands. Once you’re done, you can eat.”

After breakfast, the three children—plus Qian Xingshan, the overgrown child—ate happily, all smiles.

“Mom,” said Qingfeng, “is it New Year’s?”

Qian Chunhua laughed. “No.”

Qingfeng looked confused. “Then why are we eating so well every day?”

She pinched his cheek. “Because you kids need good nutrition. That way you can grow tall and strong. From now on, we’ll eat like this every day.”

Qingfeng cheered, “Yay!”

Qingsong, Xiaoling, Qian Xingshan, and even Qian’s mother all looked worried.

Eating like this every day—can we really keep that up?

Qian Chunhua smiled at the room full of wide-eyed family members.

People who’ve lived through hard times naturally lack a sense of security, and no amount of words could change that—it had to be eased slowly.

After entrusting Xiaoling and Qingfeng to Qian’s mother, Qian Chunhua took Qingsong and set out for Master Qian’s private school.

Before leaving, she grabbed the gifts she had prepared the night before—two jin of brown sugar and two jin of white rice.

That should be a generous enough token for their first visit.

Master Qian’s school had no formal name; everyone in the village simply called it the academy.

It was already class time when they arrived.

Two boys ran ahead of Qian Chunhua and Qingsong into the academy.

She recognized them—one was Sun Hongying’s son, Wang Wenfei, and the other was Granny Xu’s grandson, Xu Guangming.

From what Qian Chunhua knew, Master Qian’s school had very few students—only three.

Aside from these two boys, the third was Zhao Clan Chief’s grandson, Zhao Yonghong.

Though only seven years old, Zhao Yonghong belonged to the same generation as Zhao Yongcai.

Even Qingsong had to call him “Uncle Hong.”

Inside the academy, Master Qian was leading Zhao Yonghong in morning reading.

The sound of their recitations rang clearly, giving Qian Chunhua a sense of what a real school should be like.

Master Qian’s wife, Zhao Xiufen, came out to greet her. “Sister Chunhua!”

Zhao Xiufen was also from the Zhao family. Huanghualing was a small place, and intermarriage between the Zhao and Qian families was common.

Qian Chunhua smiled. “Xiufen, I’m here to see Master Qian. I want to ask about the academy.”

As she spoke, she handed over the gift she had brought.

Zhao Xiufen was delighted and warmly invited her and Qingsong inside to rest, then quickly ran to the study window to call her husband, quietly waving.

She didn’t say a word or disturb the students reading inside—this discretion earned more of Qian Chunhua’s appreciation.

Master Qian assigned the three students their reading before stepping out of the study.

“Chunhua-jie is here,” Zhao Xiufen said quietly. “She wants to ask about the academy—probably planning to enroll her Qingsong.”

With every student added, they would receive another tuition payment, and their household would benefit. So the Qian couple warmly welcomed her.

Master Qian stepped into the room, smiling. “Sister Chunhua!”

Qian Chunhua quickly stood with Qingsong. “Master Qian, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Is class already in session?”

Master Qian waved his hand. “Not at all, not at all. The children are just doing their morning reading.”

Not wanting to interrupt him for too long, Qian Chunhua asked about the enrollment requirements and how lessons were structured.

Only after getting her answers did she feel at ease.

She had been worried that Qingsong, having no prior schooling, would fall behind and be at a disadvantage compared to the others.

But after hearing Master Qian’s explanation, she learned that for academic subjects, each child worked at their own pace.

Only in subjects like music and calligraphy did they learn together.

As the children progressed, Master Qian would tailor the lessons accordingly.

It’s basically a modern private tutoring school, she thought with satisfaction, and promptly decided that Qingsong would study here.

“Master Qian, may I ask—do you accept girls?”

She had suddenly thought of Xiaoling.

Qian Chunhua didn’t want her daughter’s life to be limited to cooking and embroidery.

She hoped Xiaoling could gain basic knowledge, see more of the world, and have more options for her future.

Her question stunned Master Qian.

In all of Huanghualing, even boys rarely attended school—girls were out of the question.

In the villagers’ minds, girls would eventually marry and become someone else’s responsibility.

Sending them to school was considered a waste of money.

He hadn’t expected Qian Chunhua to think differently.

Master Qian replied, “I can accept girls—but the content will be the same as for boys. I won’t teach things like The Admonitions for Women or Domestic Instructions just because she’s a girl.”

Qian Chunhua nodded in satisfaction.

She had no intention of having her daughter learn books that taught submission and dependence on men.

“That’s fine. Equal education is enough. It’s just that girls won’t take the imperial exams.”

The two of them quickly reached an agreement.

With the matter of the two children settled, Qian Chunhua thought of her younger brother.

Qian Xingshan was illiterate—sixteen years old and had never set foot in a classroom.

She didn’t expect him to earn a degree or gain official status, but at the very least, she didn’t want him to remain completely uneducated.

The sudden thought prompted her to ask, “Could Xingshan come to the academy too?”

Master Qian stammered, “P-p-possibly…”

Qian Chunhua laughed.

Aren’t you the one who decides that? Why are you unsure yourself?