No matter whether this Mildred is favored or not, to Charlotte Brooks, he is always a threat. If Mildred is killed, at worst George Brooks will scold him a couple of times. As for the old madam, although she would be heartbroken, Charlotte Brooks is also her grandson—would she really take his life?

This Lucy, what a vicious mind!

Letting me stay here, just to be a witness. Everyone in this training ground is on his side, so of course they’ll speak for him. If I don’t help him, I won’t have a good life in the future. But if I do help him, then I’ll be tied to him.

When it comes to scheming, even ten Charlotte Brooks can’t compare to one Edward Thompson.

But even so, Edward Thompson couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, silently saying: Yuan’er, I’m sorry.

In his view, although Mildred’s body looked like a twelve- or thirteen-year-old child, he was not even seven yet. Even if he really were twelve or thirteen, trying to survive in the hands of Charlotte Brooks, who was dead set on killing him, would be impossible.

However, Edward Thompson didn’t actually blame Charlotte Brooks.

This guy is ruthless and quick-witted—he’s someone who could accomplish great things.

He closed his eyes, unable to bear watching his little brother-in-law die an untimely death, while also thinking about how to explain this to Grace Brooks.

But after closing his eyes for a moment, Edward Thompson didn’t hear the scream he had imagined.

The training ground suddenly became very quiet, even those clamoring family members fell silent.

What’s going on?

Edward Thompson couldn’t help but open his eyes, and after seeing the situation in the arena clearly, he let out a soft gasp. The boy stood steadily in place, seemingly without moving at all. Charlotte Brooks’s spear was tightly gripped in his hand, and no matter how hard Charlotte Brooks used both hands, his face turning red with effort, he couldn’t budge it in the slightest.

Is this really a boy not even seven years old?

“You want to teach me a lesson? Hmph, you really don’t know your own limits. With those few flashy but useless moves, you dare say you’ll teach someone a lesson? Don’t think you’re so impressive in the city—those people don’t lose to you because they can’t beat you, but because they fear your father’s retaliation. Otherwise, even a hundred Charlotte Brooks would have been killed by now. And you dare show off such pitiful skills? Let go!”

As the boy spoke, he suddenly exerted force with his hand.

Charlotte Brooks only felt the spear in his hand spin rapidly and whoosh—wrenched free from his grip.

The force was so great that when the spear left Charlotte Brooks’s hand, a large patch of skin was scraped off his palm, blood streaming.

Charlotte Brooks couldn’t help but let out a miserable scream, nearly being dragged to the ground by the boy.

After the pain, Charlotte Brooks became both angry and ashamed. He steadied himself, pointed at the boy, and shouted loudly, “Kill him for me!”

At this moment, Edward Thompson secretly cried out: This is bad...

Chapter Four: The Song of Killing (1)

In his previous life, Helen Brooks once heard an old saying from the village elders: Heaven is fair to everyone—even if it gives you shortcomings, it will compensate you in other ways. The key is whether you can discover and make use of them.

Thinking about it, this makes a lot of sense.

Take the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, for example—Cao Cao, Liu Bei, and Sun Quan, which of them didn’t look odd or strange, yet all achieved great things. While people like Yuan Shao and Liu Biao, though dignified in appearance, ended up with tragic fates.

The famous Cai Wenji was skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, but not long after her wedding, her husband died of illness. Later, she was exiled beyond the frontier, living a bitter life that outsiders could hardly imagine. She did compose the “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute,” which has been passed down for a thousand years, but this immortal music was bought at the cost of her life’s happiness.

And then there’s Diao Chan—who doesn’t know her as one of the Four Great Beauties?

But in the end...

Cao Chong was clever, but died young; Cao Zhi was talented, but lived a frustrated life. As for the “Little Conqueror” Sun Ce, he too died in his prime.

Who says Heaven is unfair? In fact, it’s very fair.

Helen Brooks discovered the advantage of his body when he was four years old.

His looks were indeed nothing special, but he was born with supernatural strength. He had once thought of copying a few poems from those novels and becoming famous throughout the land. But after a month of trying, he couldn’t recall even a single complete poem.

Then he thought about inventing something!

But Cai Lun had already invented Caihou paper, and Helen Brooks had been a forest ranger in his previous life—how would he know how to make paper? As for gunpowder or steelmaking, that was out of the question. He hadn’t gone to school for many years, and at least when he was in class, the teacher never taught how to make firecrackers. Not to mention airplanes or cannons—he didn’t understand those at all.

If he couldn’t succeed in literature, then martial strength was the only way!

In storytelling, any general with some skill always made a name for himself.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t learned martial arts in his previous life, nor was he good with a bow. If he had a hunting rifle, he could shoot with perfect accuracy—but where would he get a hunting rifle? Helen Brooks was troubled, and for a while, he was quite depressed, gloomy every day.

But when he discovered that this body was born with supernatural strength, his despair turned to hope.

If I can’t fight, can’t I train myself? Back in the village, although he’d never systematically learned martial arts, the village chief had once taught him a set of health exercises. Supposedly, it was the authentic Five-Animal Frolics, which not only promoted health but also built strength.

As for the legendary sandbags, Helen Brooks didn’t dare even think about them.