“Huángzhōu, well, my Adam Brooks family’s mountain hollow was never registered here anyway, so this time Huángzhōu gets the benefit,” Adam Brooks immediately made a decision, then continued, “We’ll register our household in the prefectural city of Huángzhōu, and treat this place as a mountain residence (a mountain farmstead belonging to a gentry family).

The master will now take that river boat to Huángzhōu Prefecture—the boatman said: this boat has no sail, so it’s very inconvenient to go upstream, but it’s extremely stable, just right for ferrying in Huángzhōu. I plan to sell the boat in Huángzhōu, add some money from the clan, and buy two big boats. After that, when the master travels to and from Huángzhōu, he won’t have to take the mountain roads anymore.”

Just as he was speaking, Ethan Brooks led a few classmates in, grinning, carrying Julie Brooks’s trunk, which held her dowry. The classmates stood at the door, half-smiling, not sure what to do next. Henry Clark looked indifferent, sitting steadily on a stool, leisurely sipping tea. Julie Brooks was at his feet, ladling soup, her ears red as cherries, not daring to lift her eyelids.

Seeing this, Adam Brooks gave a dry cough: “Master, is Julie’s matter settled like this? ...May I ask when you plan to marry, so I can have the clan prepare?”

Henry Clark didn’t know if the Song Dynasty had this custom—engaged men and women living together. Maybe this was just Adam Brooks bending the rules. He lifted his eyelids and said unconsciously, “Too young! ...It’s best to wait a few years!”

Adam Brooks probed, “How about next spring? Julie originally planned to marry next spring. I think, if you marry next spring, you can still make it for the spring ancestral rites.”

What Henry Clark meant was: Julie is so young, if she marries in haste, it could be dangerous for childbirth. The high rate of difficult births and low child survival in ancient times had a lot to do with women marrying too young. ...However, this reasoning was hard to explain to Song people.

What Adam Brooks meant was, it would be best if Henry Clark could marry Julie before the New Year, so he could attend the Jiangxia ancestral rites as a son-in-law of the Cheng clan... Of course, all this was on the premise that Henry Clark passed the prefectural exam this autumn.

“All right, then before the first day of the New Year... let’s say the 20th of the twelfth lunar month,” Henry Clark casually flipped through a book and answered blandly.

“In that case... kids, come in and greet Lady Zhu (in the Song Dynasty, the wife of a low-ranking official was called ‘Lady’, and the term was also used as a respectful address among commoners). From now on, Julie is the teacher’s wife, so don’t get the generations mixed up,” Adam Brooks called to the children.

Chapter Eight: Ecstatic to Learn the Secret

Henry Clark’s courtyard wasn’t built in the Song architectural style, because he didn’t know what Song architecture looked like.

Besides, most Song houses were wooden structures, which gave Henry Clark nothing to reference. So he just sketched out a Beijing siheyuan layout: in the center was the main hall, with the west wing on one side, and a moon gate on the east leading to the backyard—used for storing firewood and grain.

On either side of the main hall were two rooms, one large and one small, symmetrically arranged. The large room was now used as a classroom for the children, who were divided into two classes by age and learning progress. Of the two small rooms, one was a workshop for the children’s handicrafts; the other was a study, piled with miscellaneous books Henry Clark had collected over the past two years.

Julie Brooks moved into the west wing. There was already a big bed there, originally for children staying overnight—mountain folk who went hunting often left their children with Henry Clark, so this room became their den.

Since there was a bed, settling in was easy. The children’s things were pushed aside, and Julie Brooks’s things were moved in, making her the mistress of the little courtyard.

Ethan Brooks finished tidying up, while Julie, shy and awkward, kept looking for chores to do in the room, wiping tables and windows, seemingly not yet used to her new role and unsure how to face it.

Ethan Brooks and her classmates stood there for a long time, unable to find a topic, so they decided to go to the main hall to congratulate the teacher.

Inside the hall, Henry Clark wore a serious face, showing little joy. He kept his head down, tracing the illustrations in a book with his finger, seemingly in low spirits. Ethan Brooks hesitated, not daring to approach.

When Henry Clark first arrived, not knowing the local language, he spoke as little as possible. If he had to speak, he would practice several times in private, making sure there was no accent, and then express himself as briefly as possible. Over time, this created a unique “aura of authority.”

As time passed, Henry Clark, who came from an era of information explosion, displayed a vast range of knowledge. In the children’s eyes, he was the embodiment of omniscience—no matter how strange their questions, he always had an answer. Over time, the children grew a bit in awe of him, and when they saw him deep in thought, they dared not disturb him.

After a while, the impatient children nudged Ethan Brooks hard. Ethan Brooks mustered up his courage, tiptoed, sidled over to Henry Clark, and, looking at the teacher who didn’t even lift his head, opened his mouth several times but couldn’t speak. All he heard was the teacher muttering, “This should be the feed inlet, this is the condenser tube...”

Ethan Brooks forgot his original purpose, and, curious, followed the teacher’s finger to look at the drawing. After a while, he noticed the teacher hadn’t looked at the notes beside the diagram at all, just traced the process with his finger. He couldn’t help but ask, “Teacher, how do you read the words in the notes next to the diagram? What do they say?”