At the end of the Yuan dynasty, outside the city of Haozhou, George Washington picked up a young boy, and from then on, the Hongwu Emperor gained a new right-hand man. Fighting against the Yuan army, crossing the Yangtze River, destroying Chen Youliang, campaigning against Zhang Shicheng. Founding the Ming dynasty, restoring Yan and Yun.

I am everywhere.

From then on, with the founding of Hongwu’s reign, there were no more regrets. The foundation of the Ming dynasty became as solid as gold and stone.

Regarding the matter of the Little Ming King, we need to adopt a four-stage strategy.

First, we claim that nothing happened.

Second, we say that perhaps something happened, but we don’t need to do anything.

Third, we say that maybe we should do something, but unfortunately, nothing can be done.

Finally, we regret that the Little Ming King died for the country, and say that if only we had done something earlier.

……

Someone asked: As the most trusted minister of the founding emperor, how do you easily avoid storms and enjoy a long life?

William Bolton modestly said, "I am merely a humble public servant of the Ming dynasty, used to hold the well-considered fruits of the founding emperor!"

Chapter One: The End of the Yuan Dynasty

On a dusty road, two children, one big and one small, trudged forward slowly.

Beside them was an open field, with only a few scattered trees standing alone. Most of the bark had already been stripped off by starving people to stave off hunger. When spring came, these trees would not sprout again.

Even the wild grass on the ground was almost gone.

There was nothing to eat. The older boy moved forward with great difficulty, every step costing him dearly... Suddenly, it seemed he stepped on something, slipped, and fell to the ground.

The little one behind him was frightened, hurriedly squatted down, and pulled hard on the boy’s arm, trying to help him up.

"Don’t, don’t waste your strength."

The boy’s voice was weak, his breath faint, and he motioned for the little one to come closer.

"Edward Clark, Edward Clark, I... I can’t make it. You, you go east, go, go to Haozhou. As long as you have a breath left, don’t stop... Maybe, maybe there’s still a way to survive."

After saying this, the boy’s vision went black and he fainted.

No one knows how much time passed before he opened his eyes and found the little one still lying beside him, a pair of big black eyes staring at him.

Seeing him awake, Edward Clark smiled with joy, though tears still hung on his face.

The boy was filled with helplessness. Silly kid, if you stay with me, aren’t you just waiting to die with me!

"Edward Clark, listen to me, go quickly. If you meet a benefactor, you... you might survive..."

The child didn’t move, just stared blankly at the boy.

"Why won’t you listen! If you survive, you can save me!" the boy urged, heartbroken.

This time, the child seemed to understand. He struggled to his feet, looked at the boy again and again, and finally started to walk away. But every few steps, he would turn back to look, reluctant to part. Only after walking a long way did the little one finally lower his head and run forward.

Edward Clark was gone, leaving only the boy behind. Waves of faintness washed over him, and in the distance, there seemed to be the howling of wolves. It seemed his life would not last much longer.

Revenge for his parents, the destruction of the Yuan dynasty—these were things he could not even dream of. His family was just like wild grass in troubled times, dying without a sound...

Hopefully that kid really is Old Zhu’s adopted son Edward Clark, and hopefully he can kill a few more soldiers, which would count as avenging their family.

Tears streamed uncontrollably from the corners of the boy’s eyes.

His name was William Bolton, from Jinan.

His family was considered a prominent one. His granduncle was Henry Bolton, not only a high official but also a master of sanqu poetry, respected both in officialdom and literary circles.

But that was more than a decade ago. William Bolton’s father did not take the imperial exams or become an official, but stayed at home reading and managing the family estate, living a life away from worldly affairs.

But starting from the eleventh year of Zhizheng, uprisings of the Red Turban Army broke out along both banks of the Yellow River. The imperial army suppressed bandits, the Red Turbans fought everywhere, and the common people simply could not survive.

After much thought, Old Mr. Bolton decided to head south to seek refuge with relatives. But after years of reading at home, Old Mr. Bolton had no idea how dangerous the outside world was.

They hadn’t gone far before they were extorted by officials—again and again—until their valuables were almost gone. Only one servant remained.

Worse still, his son William Bolton fell ill from the change in climate, suffering from vomiting and diarrhea.

The Bolton Couple looked at their son’s sallow face, growing thinner by the day, and felt even more distressed.

Now it was impossible to return home; they could only grit their teeth and press on.

One day, as they traveled through the wilderness, William Bolton’s illness suddenly worsened. He began convulsing, foaming at the mouth, and The Bolton Couple were frantic with worry.

"Master, you and Madam stay with the young master. I’ll go find a doctor and buy some medicine," the servant said.

Old Mr. Bolton frowned. "In this desolate place, where are you going to find a doctor?"

The servant replied, "When we passed by just now, I think I saw a village. Let me go and try."

Old Mr. Bolton pondered, "Can you handle it? Should I go too?"

The servant quickly waved his hand. "Madam can’t take care of the young master alone. Don’t worry, Master, I’ll be back soon."