The lady was at a loss, lowering her head and falling into sorrow again. If only she had been more careful, the jewelry pouch wouldn’t have been lost, and there might still be a way out.

William Bolton leaned against the carriage, and upon hearing Old Dad’s words, his heart suddenly stirred... Haozhou—that’s exactly where Old Mr. Washington made his fortune, isn’t it? Go to Haozhou, seek refuge with George Washington! But how could he explain this to Old Dad?

Should he tell him that the future Hongwu Emperor is in Haozhou, and urge him to hurry over? Maybe they could even become founding heroes and earn a death-exemption token in the future... William Bolton pondered for a long while before finally whispering, “In times like these, there’s no real difference between officials and bandits. The Red Turban Army might not be as ferocious as they say—maybe they’re even more reasonable than the authorities.”

This remark reminded Old Dad—hadn’t they seen enough along the way?

He’d long since seen through the true nature of the authorities.

As for the Red Turban Army, he didn’t know much, but did the family have any other choice?

They’d gamble!

Old Mr. Bolton gritted his teeth. “That’s right, we’ll go to Haozhou. Surviving is what matters most!”

With his mind made up, Old Dad had the family of three set out at once. The mother tended to William Bolton in the carriage, while Old Dad took over from Old Mr. Harris and drove the cart himself.

Not long after they set out, Old Dad suddenly stopped the carriage.

William Bolton was startled—had something happened?

He heard the sound of sobbing. It turned out there was a woman’s corpse by the roadside, and a small child was lying on top of it, crying.

Old Mom poked her head out and, seeing this, felt a wave of sympathy. But they could barely take care of themselves—how could they help others?

“Master, let’s go quickly!”

Old Mr. Bolton instinctively urged the carriage forward, but his gaze remained fixed on the child, his heart moved. Just as the child was about to disappear from sight, Old Dad suddenly pulled hard on the reins and jumped down resolutely from the driver’s seat.

“Master!” the lady called softly.

Old Mr. Bolton let out a long sigh. “I’ve studied for decades. If I let the darkness of the times make me turn a blind eye to suffering, then what was the point of reading all those books of sages?”

“William, my son, your great-uncle once went to Shaanxi to provide disaster relief—he saved famine victims all along the way, giving food to the hungry, burying the dead. In our Zhang family, at any time, we must never think only of ourselves and ignore those in need!”

After instructing his son, Old Mr. Bolton went over... In the carriage, William Bolton was slightly stunned. A scholar—perhaps so. Old Dad was the kind of fool who always kept kindness in his heart. Yet it was precisely the persistence of such fools that, in this world where rites and music had collapsed and the sky seemed to be falling, kept a trace of humanity alive, preventing it from becoming a living hell...

For the first time, William Bolton felt that this Old Dad had his merits. He himself couldn’t move, so Old Mom got down to help. After half an hour, the couple returned, now with a child in tow.

“We just asked his name—the child is called Edward Clark. His parents are gone. From now on, he’ll stay with us!” Old Mom told William Bolton.

Edward Clark!

William Bolton couldn’t help but frown... How come he had the same name as the Duke of Qianguo, Edward Clark, who guarded Yunnan for generations? And by age, it should be about right, too. It’s just a pity—they weren’t George Washington and Empress Ma.

Maybe the boy just happened to have the same name.

Of course, if they made it safely to Haozhou and met Old Mr. Washington, and he was willing to take in this Edward Clark, William Bolton wouldn’t object.

What a joke—if that really happened, this boy would become the hereditary Duke guarding Yunnan, and wouldn’t he himself get to go to Yunnan and enjoy mushroom soup?

At this thought, William Bolton finally felt a faint spark of hope ignite within him, and a smile appeared on his face. Everything would be all right...

Chapter Two John Washington

Little Edward Clark had just lost his mother and cried himself to exhaustion. Before long, he lay down on the carriage and fell asleep. Mrs. Bolton covered Edward Clark with a piece of clothing.

The carriage continued on its way. It wasn’t until afternoon that Edward Clark woke up. At that moment, William Bolton was holding a quarter of a flatbread, offering it to his mouth.

“Hungry? Have something to eat!”

Edward Clark didn’t dare take it. Instead, he looked up uneasily at William Bolton and at Mrs. Bolton beside him.

Mrs. Bolton’s eyes reddened. When had their family ever been in such dire straits?

“Don’t be afraid, this is yours. We all have some, everyone does!”

That’s right—this was the last flatbread in the carriage, divided into four pieces, one for each person.

“Now that we’re together, we’re family. Even if there’s only a single grain of rice, we’ll make porridge and share it. That’s our family’s rule!”

Old Dad’s voice came from outside the carriage.

“Th-thank you, benefactors.”

The little fellow took it, trembling, staring at it as if it were some priceless treasure, reluctant to take a bite. But it smelled so good that it made his mouth water.

Suddenly, the boy took a big bite, chewing hungrily, a look of happiness spreading across his little face...

The carriage kept moving forward. Old Mr. Bolton encouraged them from time to time—there was nothing to fear. He’d studied for so many years, could write and do arithmetic, even knew a bit of medicine and physiognomy. As long as they had a place to settle, even if it meant setting up a stall, writing letters for others, or telling fortunes, they could survive.

As long as a scholar was willing to let go of his pride, there was no reason he couldn’t make a living!