Chapter 9

After my mother got married, aside from a rather difficult mother-in-law, my father was not a meddlesome man.

Gradually, she gained some freedom.

She used her dowry silver to open this school, which outwardly was called a Benevolent Manor.

In the capital, many noble families established Benevolent Manors, distributing porridge during festivals to display their virtue and compassion.

So, my mother’s somewhat remote little manor was not conspicuous.

She took in homeless beggar children, or poor kids who couldn’t afford to attend school.

Regardless of gender or aptitude, anyone could come here to study.

She also found some elderly craftsmen whom no shop was willing to hire, paying them just one or two taels a month.

Everyone’s three meals were free, and those who wanted to stay overnight slept in a large communal room.

Even so, for those beggar children who usually could only find a piece of roof to shelter under, this was already close to paradise.

When the students grew up, those who wanted to make a living could leave on their own.

Those who excelled in their studies could stay on as teachers.

Some were even placed by my mother into our own household to work-as gardeners, servants, clerks, or stewards. I counted on my fingers and couldn’t help but be amazed; my mother probably held eight or nine tenths of the real authority at home.

No wonder she’s my mother-her ability to mobilize the masses is truly impressive.

Some of the graduates have already been sent out of the capital by her to open branch schools.

Over the past few years, there must have been several thousand students.

A single spark can start a prairie fire.

My mother said, what she wanted to do was to become that spark, to ignite the flame.