Ethan Clark originally refused to agree, but unable to withstand James Bolton's persistent coaxing, she finally had no choice but to fetch the book, light the lamp, and even remembered to drape a large coat over him. Seeing him so absorbed in flipping through the book in his hands, she couldn't help but lean in curiously for a glance. She noticed that the blank spaces on the pages were densely filled with writing, which struck her as odd.

"Young master, where did this book come from?"

Although James Bolton had a decent foundation in classical Chinese, he was not used to reading in such dim light. At this moment, he was struggling to make out the characters, so he responded absentmindedly to Ethan Clark's question: "It was lent to me by Mr. Foster from the clan school. He said I should return it after I finish reading."

"Mr. Foster?"

Ethan Clark had always stayed within the inner quarters and didn't know any of the teachers from the clan school, but she did know that what James Bolton was reading was something proper. She felt happy at heart and quickly pulled out the hairpin from her head to adjust the lamp wick, making the light brighter. As she gazed at James Bolton's unusually focused face, she unconsciously drifted into a daze, not even noticing when someone entered the room.

"What are you doing here!"

Henry Bolton and Bennett had just made a trip to the main house, but had barely spoken a word, serving only as background. Now, returning together, their faces naturally looked displeased. Bennett had intended to check on how her son was sleeping, but upon entering and seeing this scene, she was instantly furious. She scolded them, about to lose her temper, but Henry Bolton stopped her with a gesture and strode forward himself.

Seeing his parents return at this moment, James Bolton couldn't help but groan inwardly, regretting that he had been so engrossed in reading that he forgot to have Ethan Clark keep watch. Ethan Clark was even more nervous, standing up without knowing what to do with the lampstand, and in the end, she was so frightened that she simply knelt down.

"Master, Madam..."

Henry Bolton didn't even glance at the kneeling Ethan Clark, but went straight to sit by the bed and snatched the book from the dazed James Bolton's hands. At the sight of the cover, he was slightly taken aback, and after flipping through a few pages, his expression changed even more. Looking up at his son, who wore an awkward expression, he closed the book and asked calmly, "Where did this book come from?"

At this point, James Bolton could only answer honestly: "It was given to me by Mr. Foster from the clan school. He told me to read it carefully and return it when I'm done."

"Mr. Foster?" Henry Bolton's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He pondered for a while, then suddenly opened the book again, carefully examining the bold handwriting and the faded red seal on the title page. After a moment, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed James Bolton's wrist, asking urgently, "Did this Mr. Foster really give this to you?"

James Bolton was completely baffled by his father's reaction and quickly corrected him: "Father, he didn't give it to me, he lent it to me."

Seeing her husband's reaction, Bennett's anger instantly vanished, replaced by curiosity. Noticing Ethan Clark still kneeling in confusion, she gestured for her to leave, then stepped forward and asked, "Master, what book did this Mr. Foster give to our son?"

"A copy of 'The Correct Meaning of the Analects,' but what's surprising is that the collector's seal on the title page is that of Xuan Zhenzi."

Henry Bolton was now all smiles. Seeing the puzzled looks on his wife and son, he explained, "Xuan Zhenzi was the courtesy name of Song Lian, the scholar of the Hongwu era. If I hadn't once helped someone collect a few of Song Lian's books, I wouldn't have recognized it. Judging by the annotations in this book, it seems two people wrote them. If one of them was Song Lian himself, then this Mr. Foster is likely no ordinary clan school teacher."

He didn't care whether his wife understood or not, but patted James Bolton's head vigorously and then, with a serious face, instructed, "Yue'er, opportunities like this are rare. You must study this book from Mr. Foster diligently. Hmm, since it looks like you can't sleep early anyway, from now on, you can go to bed an hour later each night—finish reading this book first."

Receiving such special treatment all of a sudden, James Bolton felt a bit overwhelmed. After Henry Bolton led the still-bewildered Bennett away, James Bolton looked at the book in his hands and finally realized that he had stumbled upon a treasure. Of course, the even greater treasure seemed to be Mr. Foster himself.

But then again, a scholar of such profound learning—even if unwilling to take office—would hardly be content to stay at the Zhang clan school just to deal with unruly children, would he?

By now, the lampstand had been taken away by Ethan Clark. James Bolton didn't know whether his father's special permission started today or tomorrow, and for a moment, he wasn't sure whether to read or go to sleep. But before long, the curtain was lifted again—not by Ethan Clark, but by his father, Henry Bolton, who had returned.

"Yue'er, didn't you want a horse? As long as you study hard and can get that Mr. Foster to accept you as a disciple, I'll get you a fine horse!" Seeing James Bolton's eyes nearly pop out, Henry Bolton added, "There's still a month and a half until the old madam's birthday. You must find a way to become Mr. Foster's student within this time. It will be of great benefit to you in the future, understand?"