Qian Xingshan was first overjoyed, then his shoulders slumped.

He was already so old—what was the point of going to school now?

Zhao Xiaoling widened her eyes in shock.

She was actually allowed to go to school?

Wasn’t that something only boys could do?

Zhao Qingfeng looked unhappy—why wasn’t he allowed to go to school?

Qian Mother felt a pang in her heart.

She had seen the joy in her son’s eyes. For so many years, the family had never had the means to send him to school.

Now his sister was willing to do so, but… Chunhua was already burdened with three children.

How could she bear to take on more?

Qian Chunhua ignored everyone’s reactions and directly announced, “Starting tomorrow, all three of you will go to Master Qian’s private school. These are your books—keep them safe.”

As she spoke, she pulled out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone sets from her basket—three in total, one for each of them.

Then, she took out three schoolbags.

While in the county town, Qian Chunhua had noticed people using backpacks.

They varied in materials—wooden book boxes like the one Zhao Qingyun carried, woven bamboo bags, burlap ones, and even silk.

Since this era already had backpacks, and she had plenty in her space, she figured she could bring them out.

This time, she chose basic canvas ones:

A dirt-yellow one for Qian Xingshan—the ugliest.

A dark blue one for Zhao Qingsong—barely acceptable.

A light green one for Zhao Xiaoling—also ugly, but some little girls liked it.

Back then, when hoarding supplies, Qian Chunhua had cleared out the shop owner’s entire stock of bags. Why did she hoard so many bags?

She had no idea—maybe she was just out of her mind.

But now, they were finally coming in handy.

The three stood there, bewildered, as they accepted the bags.

Only Qingsong immediately started putting his books inside.

The other two were still in shock.

Qingsong didn’t know how to use the zipper.

Qian Chunhua gave a quick explanation, and he got it right away.

The simple and convenient zipper left him secretly impressed—and wondering just how much money his mother had spent again.

Zippers didn’t exist in this era.

Qian Chunhua knew it was a loophole, but she didn’t care.

As long as it was for family use, hopefully no one would pay attention to the details.

Qian Mother looked from her daughter to her still-dazed son, and sighed quietly.

Only now did Qian Xingshan truly believe his sister wasn’t joking.

He was thrilled but bashfully said, “I’m already so old. If I go to school now, the villagers will laugh at me, won’t they?”

Qian Chunhua chuckled at her little brother. “Going to school has clear benefits. Before, the family simply didn’t have the means. Now we do. The opportunity is here—just seize it. Be yourself. Who cares what others think?”

Then she turned to Zhao Xiaoling.

Her heart always ached for this daughter. “Xiaoling, I’m sending you to school so you can learn more, understand the world better.”

Zhao Xiaoling nodded, half-understanding.

She was quicker to accept it than Qian Xingshan.

Everyone in the village knew that going to school was a good thing. Everyone wanted the chance—but not everyone got one.

Now her mother had given her that chance. Zhao Xiaoling felt more loved than ever.

Happily, she began packing her new bag. Qingsong helped her open the zipper and showed her how to use it.

Qian Xingshan remembered how, when their father was still alive, he often held him and promised to send him to school once he grew older.

Most childhood memories were blurry, but that scene—sitting on his father’s lap, hearing him talk about school—was crystal clear.

Unfortunately, by the time he grew up, their father was gone.

For years, mother and son had done everything just to survive. Who had the time or energy to think about education?

Now, his sister was offering him this opportunity.

It wasn’t that Qian Xingshan didn’t appreciate it—but…

His earlier excuse—that he feared being laughed at—wasn’t the truth. Deep down, he was thinking of his brother-in-law’s recent death.

His sister now had three children and no income.

If she also had to pay for his schooling, wouldn’t that be adding insult to injury?

He glanced at their mother, who was thinking the same.

Times were hard.

His sister had only two hundred taels.

Without a source of income, they’d burn through it quickly—especially supporting three students.

Qian Chunhua saw their concerns and said helplessly, “Trust me. I already know what business I’ll do to earn silver. I’ll need Mom’s help when the time comes. You kids just focus on studying.”

She turned to Qian Xingshan, “After school, you’ll help teach me what you’ve learned. And as their uncle, you’re responsible for taking care of Qingsong and Xiaoling at the school.”

Then she noticed her youngest son the little three years old, Zhao Qingfeng, standing to the side, clearly unhappy.

Smiling, she scooped him up. “Qingfeng, once you turn six, you’ll go to school too.”

Qian Mother and Qian Xingshan were both curious about the business she had in mind. “What are you planning to do?” they asked.

Qian Chunhua pointed toward the main road outside the house. “I’m going to open a tea shop on my land.”

Qian Xingshan looked skeptical. “A tea shop? Can that earn enough to support three people in school?”

Qian Chunhua grinned. “You don’t believe me? If it doesn’t work, you can drop out.”

Xingshan quickly nodded, “Okay, okay. If you can earn enough, I’ll keep going. Sis, I’ll treat the money as a loan. When I grow up, I’ll pay you back.”

Qian Chunhua agreed easily. “Deal. But you’d better study hard. Otherwise, no money to repay me.”

Qian Xingshan clenched his fist. “I will! I’ll work hard!”

And just like that, it was settled.

Only Qian Mother was still uneasy. A tea shop? Could that really make money? If it could, why hadn’t anyone else opened one already? Were they all fools?

Her environment shaped her worldview—but she hid her doubts well and didn’t show them outwardly. Instead, she silently resolved to help her daughter as much as possible when the tea shop opened, to lighten her burden.

Once everyone had agreed, Qian Chunhua noticed little Qingfeng admiringly touching Qingsong’s backpack.

She had already anticipated this.

From her basket, she pulled out a small children’s backpack made of synthetic leather with a puppy design on it.

“Qingfeng, this is for you,” she said with a smile, handing it over.

Inside the backpack was a surprise.

Qian Chunhua had prepared some candy. Unfortunately, she hadn’t hoarded any fruit candies back when she stocked supplies—she hadn’t liked sweets much then.

These candies were recently bought in the county.

At fifty wen a jin, she only bought two liang—spending ten wen.

The puppy design made Qingfeng fall in love with the bag at first sight, and the candy inside delighted him even more.

He immediately pulled his siblings into the yard and, all mysterious, gave each of them a piece of candy.

Qingfeng’s habit of not keeping good things to himself warmed Qian Chunhua’s heart.

No matter how scarce resources were, in their family, good things were meant to be shared.