Life still went on.

  Sister Miriam returned to the bakehouse with Jade, and none of the children working there noticed the tears that had once been on the nun’s face.

  The children in the bakehouse were not yet strong enough for factory labour, yet already old enough to be hired as chimney sweeps. The realisation horrified Jade the moment she understood what that meant: narrow shafts barely wide enough to move in, and thick soot that would ruin their lungs over time.

  She immediately went back over the expenses of her iron oven project and decided to hire all of them to help her in the domus bakehouse instead.

  Jade did not oppose the idea of children working. Without an income, many of them would likely starve alongside parents surviving on meager wagers. While she wished they could opt for safer labour, the reality was that these children had very few choices. Being a newsboy was considered one of the “better” paths; the alternatives were backbreaking work as farmhands, scavenging as rag-and-bone pickers, or the daily life of a chimney sweep. In moments of true desperation, even thievery was weighed as a career choice.

  Now, all she could do was hope the iron oven project progressed smoothly, so at least her students would be spared the worst dangers.

  “Miss Jade, we’ve finished the bag of beans and barley.” Two girls approached Jade, each holding a cloth bag roughly the size of a book. They were stitched from repurposed flour sacks and filled with grain. Jade had asked them to sew the bags, as they were among the few in the classroom who knew basic needlework.

  “Thanks,” Jade said, taking the bags and placing them into the brick oven alongside the biscuits she was preparing to bake.

  Everyone watched her with open curiosity.

  “Mis Jade,” Sister Miriam asked, “are you making new treats?”

  “No, I’m testing something,” Jade said as she slid the biscuit tray in. “See, the bedwarmers are solid, heavy, and not exactly cheap to buy. And I’m kinda worried about them too - coal ones could scorch the bed, and hot-water ones might leak. So I was wondering if there’s another way to keep warm without all that trouble”

  “With beans and barleys?” one of the girls asked as Jade closed the oven door and turned the hourglass.

  By now, everyone in the kitchen knew that with the current flame and temperature, a single turn of the hourglass meant the biscuits were ready. They had helped Jade test recipes, watched her adjust each step, and were now about to see the process repeated.

  Jade nodded. “Yeah. We already have an oven, so why not give it a try? There’s no harm if it fails. But if it works…” She smiled at them, “You could each make one for yourselves. When winter arrives, heat it at home before you leave, carry it with you in the morning, and while you’re in class, the warmer you left near our hearth and fireplace will be ready again. At least you wouldn’t have to shiver on your way to work. And at night…”

  “We can heat it up and put it into our beds, no more freezing at night!” One of the boys exclaimed.

  “Exactly.” Jade chuckled, then let out a small sigh. “Though it probably won’t stay warm all night. Best case, maybe an hour or two.”

  “Well, that’s still better than hugging a burning brick that starts crumbling after some days,” another boy muttered, earning several nods of agreement.

  “I’m just offering an option,” Jade said, holding up her fingers to count off her points as the children gathered around her. “There are still things we need to consider. For example - which grains hold the heat longest? Would it get moldy if moisture gets trapped inside? Breathing in mold isn’t safe; the spores can damage your lungs. How long would it last? Would the grains still be edible after being reheated so many times? And how practical would it really be?”

  She lowered her hand. “Those are all questions we need answers to before we actually use it.”

  One of the girls asked hesitantly, “Is that really necessary? I think we’ll be fine even if we don’t know all that, as long as it can warm our beds.”

  Jade looked at the girl, then smiled and shrugged. “Well, that’s just how I do things. I mean, I’m not the one using it - you and your families are. I can’t assume everyone thinks the same way I do. Who knows what might go wrong without me noticing? So I’d rather think ahead and eliminate as many risks as I can first.” She paused, then added more quietly. “At least after then, I can swear to the Light* that I didn’t wrong anyone, and sleep at night knowing no one came to harm.”

  The children straightened unconsciously at her words, eyes shining as they looked at her. Jade, however, failed to notice; she was already thinking about the next step of the experiment.

  “Alright, students,” she said, clapping her hands lightly. “I need two of you to test how long the warmer stays warm. Preferably those who often get cold hands and feet.” She scanned the group. “I’ll get blankets. You’ll sit in the corner, wrap yourselves up, and hold the bag. Who wants to help?”

  No one raised a hand immediately. The children huddled together, whispering and discussing among themselves, until a boy and a girl stepped forward. “We’ll do it, Miss Jade.”

  The biscuits were ready once every half hour.

  While guiding the others with baking trays and packaging, Jade kept an eye on the two testers. Now and then, curious children wandered over to ask how they were feeling, their comments drifting clearly across the room.

  “It’s a bit hot - no wonder Miss Jade gave us a lining before letting us hold it.”

  “It’s not that hot anymore, I’m taking the lining off.”

  “It’s warm. Actually, it’s really nice to hug. It’s soft… and it smells good. Like harvest.”

  “It’s not very warm now, but it's still nice as a pillow.”

  “Miss Jade, it’s not warm anymore!”

  Jade nodded and collected both bags. They rusted softly in her hands, not cold at all - still holding the warmth from the children who had hugged them. She checked the hourglass and said, “Not quite two hours. About an hour and forty-five minutes. That should be enough to fall asleep under a thick blanket, right?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She smiled at the children waiting eagerly for her verdict. “There’s still time before winter. I’ll keep testing it throughout autumn nights. But based on today, it’s a good option for when you come to school.” She nodded decisively. “I’ll let you know when we start making these bags for the winter semester, alright?”

  “Yes! We’re getting warming bags for school!” The children cheered.

  Sister Miriam smiled from the back as she watched Jade put the bags away and begin packing up the biscuits for sale.

  The nun stayed behind in the bakehouse, overseeing the children until evening, when they would join the adults returning from the fields and head home together. Jade, meanwhile, hoisted a large woven basket onto her back - shaped like an oversized travel luggage and custom-made by one of the students’ parents according to her instructions - and carried another basket in her arms as she marched toward her small stall in the city.

  It was hard labour, carrying that many biscuits and walking such a long distance just to sell them. Jade found herself missing an era where she could hop on a metro or bus - just basic public transport. She didn’t even dare to imagine owning a car.

  She could, of course, hire a two-wheeled carriage to take her to the stall, but that was far too expensive for a newly started venture like the iron oven project. Every expense mattered. She had to pinch pennies wherever she could.

  Besides, she hadn’t had anything better to do, anyway… It wasn’t like she could pull out a laptop to watch dramas or scroll through novels on her phone.

  “Miss Jade!”

  Jade turned at the call and saw one of her older students running toward her.

  Her class included children of various ages, from eight to fourteen, all studying the same syllabus due to the limited options available at a ragged school. Those above eleven usually worked in a nearby textile factory or on farms, rushing off the moment class ended. Those below eleven were the children she had just seen in the bakehouse.

  Occasionally, Jade also taught students older than fourteen, but those lessons were part of Sunday school, held in Mr. Anderson’s classroom. She herself had no Sunday classes assigned, having been tied up with the iron oven project.

  The fourteen-year-old boy jogged up to her and quickly took the basket from her hands, “Miss Jade, may I ask you a favour?”

  “You can ask,” Jade said, not objecting to the sudden relief of weight, “and I’ll decide after I hear it.

  They continued along the unpaved road toward Velport. Jade grimaced occasionally at the piles of horse dung scattered along the path, likely left behind by passing carriages and carts.

  “I…” Josh, the boy, swallowed before continuing. “I’ve decided to quit my job.”

  Jade raised an eyebrow. “Josh, if I remember correctly, you work at the textile factory. Didn’t you just get a raise? A fairly decent one, too. Are you quitting because you found a better offer?”

  “No, no offer,” He said quickly, cutting her off. “Well… more precisely, I’m asking for one now.”

  “Asking for…” Jade’s eyes widened. “You mean, me? You wanna work for me?”

  “Yes, Miss Jade.” Josh blinked at her with round, puppy eyes, “Please. May I?”

  “Boy, you know how much we earn,” Jade said bluntly. “I went through the numbers with all of you in class, remember? The iron oven project won’t make much money in the early stage. With our limitations, the best it can do is get you all proper books, and maybe stationery or scholarships if you show potential in certain skills. It might also keep the school running for a short while if we lose sponsorships before finding a new one.” She shook her head. “Quitting a stable job for this isn’t a wise move, boy.”

  “No, Miss Jade, not the iron oven project.” Josh looked at her, eyes bright. “It’s you, I want to work for you. Personally.”

  “Huh?” Jade stopped short, genuinely stunned. “Boy, I can barely feed myself at the moment, you know.”

  “But Miss Jade,” Josh said, his voice unexpectedly steady, “I know I can learn a lot from you. Real things. Things no other adult has ever taught us - at least not freely, and not in such detail.”

  He clenched his fists at his sides, the basket of biscuits trembling slightly in his grip. When he spoke, there was a sudden, startling maturity in his tone. “I believe you’ll go far. I want to follow your path. Your judgement, your knowledge, the way you think… it’s more than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known, and I’d be a fool to let the chance to learn from you slip away!”

  “Very flattering, Josh,” Jade said dryly, rolling her eyes. “Who taught you those lines?”

  “How did you know–” Josh froze for a second caught off guard. He scrambled to recover. “Well, yes, I learned a few phrases from a fellow worker. But I mean every word of it! Miss Jade, I want to learn from you, not just what you teach in the school.”

  Jade glanced at him. “So you want to be a baker?” She tilted her head slightly. “I’m good at baking cakes, and I’d say I’m fairly professional by local standards. If that’s what you’re after, I can teach you - but definitely not now. I don’t even have the nerve to buy butter yet.” She snorted lightly. “Gimme a year or two. If I manage to save enough to open a small cake shop, maybe I could hire you as my assistant.”

  “No, Miss Jade, not your baking skills,” Josh emphasised every word. “It’s you! I want to learn from you. Everything you know, from you!”

  “Huh?” Jade slowed her steps, genuinely puzzled. She looked down at the boy walking beside her, his expression so earnest it was impossible to dismiss.

  Josh was not a physically strong teenager. In fact, none of her students were. Most showed clear signs of malnutrition - thin frames, poor complexions - thanks to poverty and inadequate diets. Josh was no exception: skinny, slightly shorter than her, with dry, dull hair and rough skin, his lips cracked from the lack of moisture.

  But his eyes were bright. Focused. Determined.

  It was as if he could already see a future for himself - reflected in her.

  Jade replayed his words in her mind, and a realisation dawned on her. The way he was looking at her - it was exactly like a scene from one of those kung-fu dramas… Like the moment a master was forced by circumstance to take on a disciple, only for that child to turn out to be the story’s protagonist.

  She raised her gaze and asked slowly. “Are you saying you want to be my pupil? As in, my… disciple? My assistant? My student for life?”

  “Yes!” Josh nodded eagerly, though he hesitated for a second, clearly tripped up by her phrasing. “Well - maybe not for life? But yes! I want to be your apprentice!”

  Jade began seriously questioning his sanity - along with his intelligence and common sense. “Boy, I just told you. The only thing I can teach you is how to bake. If that’s your career choice, fine. I can teach you - if you’re that desperate.”

  Becoming a pastry cook in this world can earn a decent living. At the very least, one wouldn’t have to agonize over every coin spent. It would be a respectable future for a boy who struggled just to survive.

  Josh let out a small sigh, then lifted his head again. “As long as I can learn by your side, I’ll do whatever you ask me. Please, Miss Jade.”

  Jade looked him over from head to toe.

  She still didn’t think it was wise for him to quit his job for her - not now. She wasn’t prepared to teach an apprentice, and baking ingredients were expensive. Still, if he was truly this determined…

  “Take a few days to think it over,” she said at last. “We’ll talk again when the semester break starts.”

  “I don’t think I need more time to think…” Josh muttered, though he quickened his pace, the basket of biscuits still cradled in his arms. He turned back to face Jade with a cheerful grin. “But that works for me! I’m looking forward to becoming your apprentice, Miss Jade!”

  “...Whatever,” Jade shook her head, carefully stepping around another pile of horse dung. I really don’t understand what young people are thinking these days…