The two brothers dashed off, laughing and joking, disappearing in a flash, but Charlie Bolton didn’t want to go back so early. He wandered around the courtyards near the back gate a few times, finally preparing what he would say to his parents, and only then did he slowly return to the west wing. However, the punch he had been saving up landed on cotton—his father Henry Bolton and mother Bennett were both gone. In the spacious courtyard, aside from an old maid who was a bit hard of hearing, there was no one else around; even Ethan Clark was nowhere to be found.

After waiting a quarter of an hour without seeing anyone, bored out of his mind, he simply flopped onto the bed and drifted off into a hazy sleep.

“Young master, young master! How can you be sleeping at a time like this... Oh dear, get up quickly!”

James Bolton, who was sleeping soundly, was suddenly woken by a bout of pushing and shouting. Reluctantly opening his eyes, he saw it was Ethan Clark. He lazily yawned before asking, “With only a deaf old maid around and not a soul in sight, what else was I supposed to do but sleep? Where did father and mother go, and why are you the only one here?”

“The eldest madam and the fourth young master and young lady have returned, bringing several cartloads of things. Right now, they’re in the main house talking with the old lady, so of course everyone else went there!”

As Ethan Clark spoke, she pulled James Bolton up, then half-squatted to tidy his front, finally saying with a touch of envy, “That fourth young master is so clever, and the young lady is so refined—truly one in a hundred. The fourth young master is even a prodigy; he could read at three, and now at only nine, he can write couplets and compose poetry. The second madam didn’t believe it and insisted he compose a poem, and only then was she convinced. The old lady was so delighted she couldn’t stop smiling, and immediately gave him the family heirloom jade, and gave the young lady a gold necklace and a pair of agate bracelets.”

So the eldest grandson of the main branch had returned!

Hearing Ethan Clark chatter on, James Bolton couldn’t help but recall what his parents had said before. Sure enough, once the eldest grandson of the main branch returned, the old lady had eyes for no one else. And upon hearing about the heirloom jade and the talent for poetry, he nearly popped his eyes out, instinctively thinking of Jia Baoyu from Dream of the Red Chamber, who was the recipient of endless affection all his life. Except for not being born with jade in his mouth, how similar they were in every other way!

Ethan Clark tilted her head to look at James Bolton, gently straightened his collar, and then smiled, “The eldest and second young masters should be heading to the main house by now. Since you’re ready, let’s hurry over too.”

The usually solemn main house was especially lively today. As soon as James Bolton stepped through the courtyard gate, he heard bursts of laughter and cheerful voices from inside. More than a dozen maids stood at the entrance with their hands at their sides. The unfamiliar faces among them wore blue satin vests and lotus-pink pleated skirts; though their colors were bright, their faces were expressionless and solemn. The familiar maids of the household, on the other hand, seemed distracted, as if straining to hear what was happening inside. When they saw him approach, they snapped to attention and bowed, each one lowering herself a notch.

Ethan Clark personally lifted the curtain, and James Bolton bowed his head and stepped over the threshold. Even though it was still bright outside, upon entering, he was dazzled by the glitter of jewels and finery, and stood stunned for a moment before walking forward.

By Sullivan’s side nestled a young boy, his head wrapped in a dragon-scale gauze scarf, wearing a bright red lotus-patterned brocade robe, a sparkling necklace around his neck, a string of colorful beads at his waist, and black cloud-patterned shoes on his feet. Yet the beautiful face always looked up at the sky, and aside from Sullivan, he seemed not to care about anyone else.

The thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl beside him, however, was rather amiable. Seeing someone enter, she blinked and gave a warm smile. James Bolton returned the smile, and then noticed that beside his second aunt Fletcher stood a simple, honest-looking woman, and next to her a timid, frail girl—presumably Auntie Reed and his second younger sister.

Sullivan was so absorbed with the boy in her arms that she barely noticed anyone coming forward to pay respects. Only when Grace reminded her did she look up, merely nodding slightly and signaling the third daughter-in-law Bennett to bring James Bolton over. Stroking Joe Bolton’s forehead, she grew more and more fond of him, and said to the eldest daughter-in-law Baker with a smile, “Jiu-ge’er is so clever and quick-witted, he might even surpass his father in the future—who knows, he might win top honors in all three imperial exams!”

“The old lady really thinks highly of him. He can only write a few clumsy lines of poetry, that’s all.”

Though Baker said this, her face was full of pride. Hearing this, Fletcher, standing opposite her, pursed her lips, gently tugged at Bennett’s sleeve, and muttered in a low voice, “Third sister-in-law, just look at how smug big sister-in-law is after one compliment from the old lady! Coming all this way to see her mother-in-law, she’s decked out in nothing but gold and jade—who is she showing off to?”

Hearing Fletcher’s complaint and seeing that no one was paying attention to him, James Bolton simply stepped back, intending to hide behind his mother. But as soon as he settled in, he suddenly realized someone was beside him. Looking up, he saw it was his father Henry Bolton. The two exchanged a glance and smiled faintly, then both resumed their calm, unmoving expressions.

Henry Bolton was used to being looked down on by others; James Bolton simply didn’t care about others’ disdain. Isn’t there a saying in this world—just wait and see?

Chapter Thirteen: What Is a Chosen One?