Becoming the Stepmother: Transforming the Liew Family’s Fate

In the end, the entire family of six worked together to restack the firewood.

Clara mainly took on the role of supervisor. The four kids assisted as best they could. The main laborer, Lester Liew, silently clenched his jaw so tightly it felt like his molars might crack.

Perhaps sensing the sheer weight of resentment radiating off him, Clara didn't add insult to injury this time.

By the time the woodpile was stacked again, night had already fallen.

Cold wind blew through the courtyard. Clara stowed her bow and arrows in the bedroom and hung them up neatly before gathering the four kids into the main hall to wait for dinner.

She also snatched the half-finished sparrow meat out of Ben's hands and called him over for a little lesson.

"No one starts eating before the adults say it's time. If the food isn't fully cooked, even if you're tempted, you're not allowed to sneak a bite."

"And absolutely no stealing food—no matter how hungry you are."

"Of course, when it's just our family at home, we can be more relaxed. But if there are guests, rules must be followed. Understood?"

Though addressed to Ben, that last part was clearly meant for all four kids.

Back at the warm house gathering a while ago, before the dishes were officially served, Adam and Ben had snuck the twins into the kitchen. Each of them had filched a piece of meat.

Smart little mischief-makers that they were, they didn't all rush in together. Instead, they'd queued up and entered one at a time, each grabbing just one bite before darting out again.

As the host family's children, no one in the kitchen dared scold them.

But when Doreen and Kate saw this, they thought, Well, if they're breaking rules, and slipped a piece of meat to their own kids too.

So Ryder, Rosie, and the Liew siblings—six kids total—were all giggling with greasy mouths.

The other village children who saw this started wailing with envy, throwing tantrums. Some parents got embarrassed and gave them a smack. Soon the courtyard echoed with crying.

Doreen and Kate had gone quiet immediately, finishing their stir-fries in awkward silence and serving food to distract the children. The crying only stopped once they were fed.

Clara had witnessed the entire scene and had mentally decided she'd correct her four stepchildren's behavior soon.

She didn't particularly care what the other villagers thought—maybe they didn't see a problem with it. After all, the food they ate was from their own kitchen.

But what if they grew up thinking it was okay to sneak food that wasn't theirs?

Ben hadn't thought it was a big deal… until he saw how serious Clara's face was. He stiffened, hands at his sides, his little face tightening in guilt. His peach blossom-shaped eyes, exactly like Lester's, darted around nervously.

Adam and the twins, who had been sitting down, instinctively stood up as well.

Chad, the timid one, was already welling up, fearing a scolding—or worse.

Deb licked her lips absentmindedly, clearly still savoring the taste. She was the most carefree of them all.

Adam felt that, as the eldest, he should set an example. He stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Auntie Clara, I was wrong. I shouldn't have snuck my younger siblings into the kitchen. If you want to punish someone, punish me. It was all my fault—it had nothing to do with Ben and the others."

Ben panicked. "Big bro?!"

He was the one who'd come up with the idea! He'd dragged Chad and Deb along to look pitiful, and only after Adam softened did he take them to sneak bites.

Adam pushed Ben behind him protectively and continued, "Auntie Clara, I won't do it again."

Clara glanced at Ben. That look alone said she already saw through their little scheme.

Ben flushed with guilt. He wanted to confess everything, but was too scared of being punished. He dropped his head and avoided her eyes.

All four kids stood nervously in front of their stepmother, eyes filled with dread.

Clara sighed inwardly, but her stern expression didn't falter. Her voice was firm:

"If you know you're wrong, then change. As punishment—no meat for you tonight. Learn your lesson."

What?

All four kids looked stunned, like they couldn't believe their ears.

Deb blinked, confused. "Mom, aren't you gonna spank us?"

"You want to be spanked?" Clara raised an eyebrow.

Deb quickly waved her hands, her head shaking like a rattle-drum. "No, no!"

Clara flicked the little girl's sky-high ponytail—one she'd braided herself—and smiled. "Such a cute little girl. I couldn't bear to hit you."

"Right?"

Deb froze for a second, then beamed with surprise. "Mom, you're not mad anymore?"

Clara nodded. "I was never really mad at you in the first place."

The little girl immediately launched herself into Clara's arms, her voice sweet and soft:

"Mom, I was wrong. I won't ever do it again~"

Chad's tears that had been brimming didn't get the chance to fall. He cracked a big, silly grin.

Adam and Ben exchanged a look and both let out a sigh of relief.

Ben hesitated, then gathered his courage to admit it was his idea.

"I know." Clara's tone was calm.

Then she added, "Funny how you only confess when you're not getting hit. If you're getting spanked, would you still have come clean?"

"No!" Ben protested—but his recent behavior basically said otherwise. He couldn't think of a single good rebuttal.

Just as it looked like he might cry again, Clara waved her hand. "Not happening again."

She'd lifted her hand high, then let it drop softly. That alone had Lester, who'd been anxiously eavesdropping from the kitchen door, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

He may be terrified of this fierce woman, but if she'd actually hit his kids, who knows—he might've rushed out to shield them.

He could take a beating. But if the little ones got hurt, that was something they'd carry forever.

Thankfully, no one got spanked. And more importantly, he didn't either.

Since no one had done much physical labor today, white rice was deemed too extravagant. Lester decided they'd have plain porridge for dinner.

Not that he didn't want white rice every day—but anyone who's known real hunger would understand. Even when there's food, you hesitate to eat too much, scared of running out.

Porridge lasted longer. It stretched the supply.

He whipped up two simple stir-fried dishes to go with it.

Ordinary families couldn't afford to stir-fry daily, but after a month of close observation, Lester had learned something: Clara loved stir-fried food.

As long as it suited her taste, she didn't seem to care how much oil he used.

And so, Lester got bolder.

Where others used a thin brush to coat the wok with oil, he just scooped a full ladle straight from the jug. That sizzling oil alone made anything taste amazing—even if you didn't know how to cook.

Toss in a few garlic cloves for fragrance, add greens, stir over high heat, salt, done.

Tonight's star dish was the sparrow meat. There wasn't much of it, but deep-fried until crispy, then stir-fried with dried chili, garlic, and ginger—it was enough to make anyone drool.

After a month of decent meals, with meat every five days, Lester had learned to maintain his composure. But when that little bowl of spicy, crispy sparrow came out, he lost count of how many times he swallowed his saliva.

Finally, the table was set.

The moment Clara lifted her chopsticks, six other pairs shot forward, all aiming for that one tiny bowl of sparrow meat.

Lester scored the biggest piece—a tiny leg—and popped it into his mouth.

Juicy, spicy, crispy—the flavors exploded on his tongue.

He took a bite, then a sip of porridge, and swallowed it all down, eyes squinting in pure satisfaction.

(End of Chapter)

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