Henry Bolton hurried to the temple, only to see Grace Carter walking toward him with her head down, looking dejected. Knowing she was thinking about the rock candy, he quickly slipped behind a tree to hide.

　　“Grace!” Henry Bolton jumped out in front of her, holding out a bag of rock candy and smiling, “Are you troubled because of this?”

　　Grace Carter was overjoyed. She snatched the rock candy, examined it carefully up and down, and, seeing it was intact, patted her chest and said, “I thought I lost it, but I didn’t expect you to find it. What luck! Otherwise, if my mother asked, I wouldn’t have been able to answer her.”

　　Henry Bolton stifled a laugh and said, “If I had just found it, how would I know it was you who lost it?”

　　Grace Carter froze, her face suddenly turning red, and she stammered, “So I must have left it at home.”

　　“Did you see my mother?”

　　At the mention of his mother, Henry Bolton’s smile gradually faded. He asked a little nervously, “Is she feeling any better?”

　　“Yes! Aunt listened to me ramble on for ages, and she even smiled!”

　　Grace Carter closed her eyes, a look of admiration appearing on her face. “Aunt is the most elegant woman I’ve ever met. She always speaks so gently. Being with her makes me feel so comfortable. Her smile is like, it’s like…”

　　Grace Carter opened her eyes, bit her lip, unable to find the right word to describe it. Henry Bolton’s thoughts were no longer on her. Hearing that his mother was getting better, he felt relieved and waved his hand to interrupt her, “Alright, you should go home now! I’ll bring you those five strings of coins tomorrow.”

　　Seeing his indifference, Grace Carter silently handed the rock candy back to him, forced a smile, and said, “Alright then! I’ll head home.”

　　But after walking just a few dozen steps, she suddenly turned around, bent over, and shouted loudly, “Henry Bolton, Aunt’s smile is like water, like a spring stream. There’s no other woman in the world whose smile is as gentle as hers. I like her!”

　　As she shouted, tears welled up in her eyes. She turned and ran off as if fleeing. Henry Bolton watched her back, momentarily stunned.

Chapter Nine: Taking Charge of the Finances

　　Henry Bolton knelt in a quiet little courtyard inside the temple. The courtyard was simply arranged, with a cluster of bamboo lush and green, a patch of vegetables planted in the corner, and a bamboo trellis beside it. Several bean vines had already climbed up the trellis, peeking curiously around.

　　“Your son is unfilial, not even knowing that mother was ill!” Although he longed to go inside and see his mother, her strict order from two years ago still kept him from taking even a single step closer. He knelt upright on the ground, his eyes full of sorrow.

　　“Did you pass the imperial exam?” His mother’s voice was unusually gentle, but her tone was stern.

　　“Your son will go to the capital next spring to take the provincial exam.” Henry Bolton lowered his head, his voice trembling. “I heard mother was gravely ill, so I came to visit.”

　　There was silence from inside the house. After a while, a violent fit of coughing suddenly came from within, like a string about to snap. “Mother!” Henry Bolton could no longer hold back. He stood up and was about to rush inside.

　　“Stop!” The coughing abruptly ceased, and a sharp rebuke came from inside. A clear, resolute voice rang in Henry Bolton’s ears, “My illness, life or death, is up to fate. But unless you pass the imperial exam, I will not see you!”

　　“Mother!”

　　Henry Bolton fell to his knees with a thud, his whole body trembling. Tears streamed from his eyes. His mother was so close, yet it felt as if she were worlds away. For more than ten years, no one had cared for his well-being, no one had tended to his wounds. At the age of ten, when a child most needs his mother, she had left. Every night, as he pulled up the cold quilt, he would cry softly for his mother before he could fall asleep. Sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night, frightened, only to find himself accompanied by endless loneliness and darkness.

　　A breeze rustled the bamboo leaves. Henry Bolton slowly kowtowed three times, stood up, wiped away his tears, carefully placed the rock candy and medicine on the steps, took a few steps back, and reluctantly turned to leave.

　　Just as he walked out the courtyard gate, he didn’t know that behind a bamboo curtain inside the house, a stunningly beautiful face was already streaked with tears. She stared blankly as her son’s figure disappeared, then suddenly covered her face and burst into sobs.

　　‘Who says an inch of grass can repay the warmth of spring?’ What mother does not love her child? But who can know the pain and helplessness in her heart!

　　……

　　Henry Bolton walked quickly along the riverbank, his mother’s resoluteness weighing heavily on his heart. Now he had only one thought: to go to the academy and study, to study madly, even through the night. Only studying could be the cure, only studying could help him vent his pain.

　　“Qubing!” Henry Bolton had just reached the steps when he suddenly heard someone calling him from behind. Turning around, he saw the chubby Frank Harris running toward him with all his might.

　　“We, we…” Frank Harris was drenched in sweat. He ran up to Henry Bolton, bent over, gasping for breath, and said, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Hurry back! News just came from the Zhang residence—your family head wants to see you. It’s something important.”

　　‘The family head wants to see me?’ Henry Bolton was a little surprised. He had just seen him that morning—why did he want to see him again in the afternoon? He couldn’t help but recall what Uncle Lin had said, and a bitter smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. ‘Could it be that my luck is finally turning around?’