It’s quite common for mountain hunters to have the skill to shoot a few golden pheasants with their hunting bows, but to shoot down a soaring hawk from the sky—now that’s truly an astonishing display of archery.

Although Henry Foster had been idle these past few years, he still understood these simple truths. He hadn’t expected that, out here in the wilds, there would be someone with such remarkable archery skills.

All day, Henry Foster had been reminding himself to keep calm in all matters, but he also had no intention of speaking up for these two unrelated hunters—he was content to let Kyle Sullivan handle it. Yet at this moment, a thought flashed through his mind.

Now, as Henry Foster looked at that young man again—even though he was being forced to kneel on the ground by his father, his tense back still gave off the sense of a wild beast ready to pounce and bite. Not to mention the rebellious look hidden in his eyes—it was truly memorable.

Henry Foster couldn’t help but wonder: if the person from his dreams, Simon Blake, were here, how would he make use of this wild, untamed youth with such extraordinary archery skills?

Chapter 7: The Gifted Bow

“They’re all tenant farmers on the estate, right?” Henry Foster asked.

“Huh?” Kyle Sullivan was momentarily taken aback, then replied, “Old Zhao is a tenant farmer on the estate, and that little brat of his—caught him several times, but he never learns his lesson. Mr. Grant said that if we catch them poaching in the mountains again, we’ll send them to the county office to be dealt with.”

Henry Foster glanced at the stubborn-looking youth and asked, “What’s your name?”

The youth stiffened his neck and ignored Henry Foster.

“Reporting to young master, my little brat’s humble name is James Sullivan!” The older hunter kept kowtowing and begging for mercy. “We’ll never do it again, please, young master, spare us!”

“Kyle Sullivan, let me ask you something. In your eyes, does everything on the estate get decided by Mr. Grant, and nothing I say counts for anything?” Henry Foster turned around and stared into Kyle Sullivan’s eyes as he asked.

“……”

Kyle Sullivan was stunned for a moment, then stammered after a while.

“Young master, what are you saying? Mr. Grant is just worried about disturbing your studies and failing the master’s trust. Besides, dealing with these cunning lowlifes on the estate—Mr. Grant is afraid you lack experience and might be deceived by them…”

“All right, that’s enough. As long as what I say still counts, that’s all that matters.”

Henry Foster cut him off and said.

“Since Old Zhao and his son are tenant farmers, then except during the closed hunting season, whatever they hunt or gather from the back mountain in the future, they just need to pay the estate a share according to the rent ratio. Why send them to the county office? Do we really need everyone to know that my The Foster Family can’t manage its own people?”

To his surprise, the usually irritable young master not only didn’t pursue the matter of Old Zhao and his son poaching, but was even going to lift the hunting ban for the tenant farmers. Kyle Sullivan narrowed his eyes, sizing up young master Henry Foster, but said nothing.

“You’re able to shoot down a hawk, so your archery is impressive. But it’s a pity not to have a good bow. This Black Cloud Bow is useless in my hands, so today I’ll give it to you.” Regardless of what Kyle Sullivan might think, Henry Foster took the Black Cloud Bow from its case and handed it to the youth.

The youth, being skilled in archery, could naturally see the extraordinary quality of the Black Cloud Bow. But even if he was inexperienced in worldly matters, he still felt that Henry Foster’s sudden gift was too abrupt. He stared blankly at the bow in Henry Foster’s hand, hesitating to take it.

“How can we accept this, how can we accept this?” Old Zhao said in a panic.

“The Qiuhu Mountain Villa belongs to the The Foster Family. Other than my father, I have the final say here. But I can’t guarantee that some unruly servants in the estate won’t come looking for trouble with you. This bow will serve as your token!” Henry Foster said, and without further ado, shoved the Black Cloud Bow into the youth’s hands.

“Thank you, young master.” Seeing there was no way to refuse, Old Zhao finally led the youth to kowtow repeatedly to Henry Foster in thanks.

Henry Foster laughed heartily and said, “Then I won’t be polite either—let me pick a few of your game to take back to the estate, all right?”

“Young master, please choose.” Old Zhao knelt on the ground and said.

“Stand up and speak, don’t just kneel all the time. Isn’t it tiring to talk like that?”

Henry Foster walked over, helped Old Zhao up from the mud, then picked up two golden pheasants from the ground whose wings had been shot off but were still flapping, and said,

“All right, I’ll take these two pheasants as rent for the estate. You can take the rest back. In the future, whatever good things you hunt in the mountains, remember to hand over half to the estate—tell the other tenant farmers the same. This is the rule I, Henry Foster, have set.”

Watching the father and son leave with their game, Henry Foster tossed the two pheasants to Kyle Sullivan and said, “I whipped you twice just now—take these two pheasants as your reward for accompanying me on horseback this afternoon.”

Seeing Kyle Sullivan silently take the pheasants and lead the horse ahead, Henry Foster thought to himself, if the dream figure Simon Blake were in this situation, he’d probably do the same, right?

……

……

By the time he returned to the East Courtyard, night had already fallen.

Henry Foster washed his hands and face, changed into fresh clothes, and went to the dining room in the west wing. The meal was prepared just as it had been at noon, all with ingredients from the estate. There wasn’t much variety, but everything was certainly fresh—just that the portions had been reduced considerably.

It was obvious that Charles Grant hadn’t taken his words seriously at all, and had no intention of having David Grant come over to dine with him.