The master poked his head out through the crack of the door, his face twisted in anger, his words trembling.

"You... what exactly do you want?"

Grace responded with a polite expression.

"Just seeking a place to stay for the night, nothing more."

……

Grace Foster sat at the table, with all kinds of food laid out before him, while the master sat politely to the side.

"You see, we've never had any grudges in the past. Why must a hero like you make things difficult for an old man like me?"

"If you want to stay the night, I actually know a better place. Just four hundred steps ahead from here, there's another eatery. Their place is much bigger than ours, the food is better, and the people there are wealthy..."

"Look, here’s some travel money, enough for you to have a good meal over there..."

Grace Foster shook his head, declining the offer.

"I won’t go inside. I’ll just rest in the courtyard."

"If some blind ruffians or thieves break in and you don’t have enough people in the house, I can help you deal with them."

The shopkeeper’s lips trembled for a long time.

"Heh..."

"A bunch of lunatics."

Chapter 9 The Master Never Does a Losing Business

"What’s this?"

"I don’t know... never seen it before!"

The two minor officials at the county school gate looked at the bamboo slip in Grace’s hand and just shook their heads.

The older one said:

"Here we use study tokens, little bamboo plaques, like a pass, but I’ve never heard of any bamboo slips..."

After he finished, without waiting for Grace to reply, he closed the door.

Grace Foster stood outside with a cold face.

The man from yesterday still hadn’t shown up, and to get in, the bamboo slip was of no use.

Suddenly, laughter came from afar.

The man from yesterday, dressed the same as before, but seemingly drunk, staggered over.

The younger lackey supported him, looking rather strained.

The two arrived at the same spot as yesterday. The lackey walked past Grace without even glancing at him, said something to the minor official inside the door.

The two resumed their posts, ignoring Grace completely.

Grace Foster slowly appeared before them.

"Give me the study token."

The man looked up, grinning at Grace Foster.

"You want to take the exam?"

"County office rules, His Majesty has granted a favor, it’s three hundred coins."

"Pfft~~"

The lackey covered his mouth, laughing out loud, looking at Grace Foster with schadenfreude.

The man looked up, his face full of smugness.

"I already gave you money yesterday."

"Oh? How come I don’t remember that? Samuel Clark, you were here all day yesterday, did you see this person?"

"Never!"

"See? I’ve never seen you, I don’t know you at all."

Grace Foster raised the bamboo slip.

"I don’t know where you got this bamboo slip, but it’s not from me. I only have bamboo plaques here, and we don’t use any seals."

The lackey laughed again.

Grace said nothing.

The man tugged at his collar and asked again, "Are you going to issue the study token or not?"

"If not, then move along, don’t waste my time. Otherwise, I’ll drag you to the county office!"

Grace Foster’s left eye twitched, a flash of fierceness in his eyes.

The two saw that fierce look, their smiles froze, and the atmosphere instantly turned dead silent.

Grace Foster stared at the man in front of him for a long time, then turned and left.

But he didn’t go far, just stood across the street, took out a cake from his coat, and ate while staring intently at them.

The man wiped the sweat from his forehead, his drunkenness seemingly gone.

"Poor wretch... can’t even cough up six hundred, and still wants to be an official! I think he’s better off shoveling dung at the county office!"

The lackey nodded.

"Mr. Foster, I don’t think this Qihu is going to let it go easily. Should we get someone?"

"You keep an eye on him, see where he’s staying. If he keeps pestering us, I’ll send him somewhere nice."

The two continued their business as usual.

Everything was as before, except now, from afar, a pair of eyes was fixed on them.

This made Mr. Foster especially uneasy. He couldn’t say why, just felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, restless, and several times wanted to go over and yell at the other man.

Before it even got dark, he left early.

Walking on the road, he kept looking back to make sure no one was following.

Even the usually talkative lackey became silent, the two of them walking closer and closer together.

The cold wind blew, and the man felt his hands and feet turning cold.

He felt a vague sense of regret, but dared not say a word.

When they got home, before the lackey could speak, he rushed into the yard, locked the door tight, the lackey’s face changed, glanced around, and ran off.

The man let out the big dog in the front yard, went into the inner house, locked the door tightly, and only then dared to sleep.

The next day, that troublesome fellow was finally gone.

The man breathed a sigh of relief. Remembering his cowardice the night before, he couldn’t help but mock himself—getting more timid with age, actually scared of a peasant?