Chapter 13: The Spark Spreads

19.

After my mom married, aside from a difficult mother-in-law, my dad wasn’t much trouble.

She gradually gained a measure of freedom.

She used her dowry to open this school, outwardly calling it a charity house.

In the city, many wealthy families ran charity houses, distributing food during holidays to show off their kindness.

So my mom’s little place on the edge of town didn’t attract attention.

She took in homeless kids and poor children who couldn’t afford school.

No matter if they were boys or girls, clever or slow, anyone could study here.

She even found some elderly teachers whom no school would hire, paying them a little each month.

Everyone’s meals were free, and those who wanted to stay had only a communal bed.

But for those kids who usually only had a roof for shelter, this was already heaven.

When the students grew up, they could leave to make a living.

Those who excelled could stay and teach.

Some were placed in our household as gardeners, handymen, or bookkeepers. Counting on my fingers, I realized most of the real power in the house was in my mom’s hands.

Truly worthy of being my mom—she was skilled at rallying people.

Some graduates had even been sent out of town to open branch schools.

There must have been several thousand students over the years.

A single spark can start a wildfire.

My mom said what she wanted to do was be that spark, to ignite the flames.

It was quiet work, but it was work that mattered—work that left ripples, even if the pond looked still on the surface.

20.

I took my mom’s plans and account books for the branch schools, flipping through a few pages carefully.

“Mom, have you thought about how, once you open branches, your intentions behind the charity house will be exposed?”

I felt a bit anxious. “Besides Grandma Ruth, who else knows your identity?”

“If people find out, Mom, they’ll say you’re getting too big for your britches. They might even come after you.”

My mom was calm and steady. “So what?”

She didn’t flinch. Her calmness only made me more anxious. Seeing her like this, I grew even more anxious. “If the law catches you, you’ll be executed.”

My mom’s face didn’t change. “I know.”

“Then you…” I was almost pleading.

“In this life, what I’m doing is also something punishable by death. But someone has to do it, or the country will fall apart.”

“And after hearing your stories, doesn’t it prove it’s worth it?”

Her voice was firm, eyes blazing—a fire that wouldn’t be doused by fear. I swallowed, realizing the stakes were as real as ever.