All that could be seen on the imperial desk, which should have been piled high with memorials and documents, was a scattering of wood shavings, with a clean, three-tiered European-style model placed right in the center.

“Come, Imperial Brother, take a look—see if it matches the blueprint you drew!” John Adams looked at the model, his expression quite delighted. Ever since his “Imperial Brother” had shown the same talent for craftsmanship as he had, the surprises he brought were more than a little.

Lucas Bennett clasped his hands behind his back, put on an air of inspection, glanced at it, and shook his head: “Imperial Brother, here, this should be a semicircle, symmetrical with this side. Also, this part that extends out needs a supporting column underneath.”

Hearing Lucas Bennett’s words, John Adams’s eyes widened. He was quite skilled himself, so he immediately picked up the woodworking knife on the table and began carving on the model, waving his hand at Lucas Bennett at the same time: “You go play by yourself for now, I’ll try again.”

Lucas Bennett nodded, watched for a while longer, and seeing John Adams so focused, finally walked to the side, took out a prepared sheet of paper from his robe, spread it out, then picked up John Adams’s imperial seal and stamped—or rather, slammed—it down hard.

The table gave a sudden jolt, John Adams’s knife paused at once. He glanced over, then withdrew his gaze and continued carving.

Lucas Bennett put the seal back, grinned and said, “If I weren’t still young, my knife skills would definitely be better than yours, Imperial Brother!”

John Adams nodded seriously as well, saying, “That’s not wrong. When you’re a few years older, the two of us brothers working together will surely create craftsmanship the likes of which the world has never seen!”

Lucas Bennett quickly nodded in agreement, though inwardly he was thinking, You’re the one neglecting your duties—I’m not going to be a carpenter.

Once John Adams was absorbed in his woodworking again, Lucas Bennett looked at a young eunuch not far away and beckoned, “Little Carter, come here.”

“Your Highness.” This eunuch was about twenty, with a fair complexion and striking features. He walked over upon hearing the call.

Lucas Bennett handed over the “imperial edict” and banknotes, his gaze calm and authoritative: “Take the ‘imperial edict’ and these banknotes to the city gate and wait for Mr. Sanders.”

Charles Carter accepted the “imperial edict,” then looked up at John Adams.

John Adams was engrossed in his work, waved his woodworking knife impatiently, and said, “Just go if you’re told.”

“Your servant obeys.” Charles Carter took the “imperial edict” and turned to leave.

Lucas Bennett watched Charles Carter leave the imperial study, then turned to John Adams and said, “Imperial Brother, this little eunuch of yours is not bad. Send him to my palace—I’m just short of a chief eunuch.”

John Adams grew even more impatient, waving his hand repeatedly: “Take him, take him. If I don’t give him to you, you’ll go bother the Empress and annoy me.”

Lucas Bennett chuckled, bowed deeply, and said loudly, “Thank you, Imperial Brother. Your humble brother takes his leave.”

John Adams didn’t even respond. Lucas Bennett secretly breathed a sigh of relief, straightened his back, and strode out of the imperial study.

Once Lucas Bennett had left the imperial study, John Adams put down his work, straightened up, looked out the door, and muttered, “Samuel Sanders, so be it. If there’s a vacancy, we’ll just reinstate him.”

From the east side of the Forbidden City, three ordinary, unremarkable carriages wobbled their way toward the west city gate.

Inside the first carriage sat a man of about thirty in regular attire, with handsome features—not quite a match for Pan An, but still impressive, and carrying an air of authority. At this moment, however, his brows were furrowed and his eyes fierce, clearly filled with resentment.

He sat facing west, while three women sat to the north and south of the carriage, dressed simply, their hair in high buns—clearly married women. One, a slightly older lady, looked at her husband, whose anger had not subsided, and hesitantly said in a low voice, “Master, are we really just leaving like this?”

The man immediately snapped, “What else can we do? I will never return to this Forbidden City in this life!”

The other two women looked worried. Though their master had resigned in anger, his mood was unsettled, and he had offended a eunuch close to the emperor—who knew when disaster might strike again.

“Master, someone’s blocking the road.” Suddenly, the coachman turned his head and called into the carriage.

The lady, seeing her husband unmoved, whispered, “Master, maybe it’s your colleagues coming to see you off.”

The man’s heart was already burning with anger, but he hadn’t lost his reason. He sighed inwardly—who would dare come see him off now? Still, he got up and stepped out of the carriage, only to be taken aback.

Charles Carter smiled slightly, stepped forward, and looked at Samuel Sanders: “Mr. Sanders, don’t you recognize me?”

Samuel Sanders immediately realized—this was the eunuch by the emperor’s side. His heart was filled with suspicion and unease, but he still cupped his hands and said, “May I ask why Mr. Carter is blocking my way?”

Charles Carter handed over the “imperial edict” and ten thousand taels in banknotes, smiling: “Mr. Sanders, you can see for yourself.”

Samuel Sanders was anxious inside, but his face remained calm as he accepted them. He paid no attention to the banknotes, but opened the folded yellow paper. On it were twelve large characters, stamped with the emperor’s seal.

“In times of national crisis, you may leave for now; the recall will not be far off.”

Samuel Sanders’s hand trembled, and with a thud he knelt to the ground, crying out, “Long live His Majesty!”

Chapter 2 Mr. Wallace

Lucas Bennett left the imperial study and wandered straight toward Kunning Palace.