William Bolton said, "That's it. I'm almost twelve already. If our benefactors are going to take in a godson, at most they'll take you, how could they possibly take me? At best, I can just stay here, do some odd jobs, and run errands."

John Washington is twenty-five this year, and Adams is only twenty. Taking in a son in his teens is indeed a bit of a stretch.

Edward Clark rolled his eyes and asked, "Then, isn't that just a servant?"

William Bolton laughed, "Who says it isn't!"

Edward Clark's eyes darted around, then he suddenly sat up straight, patted his chest with pride, and said, "Don't worry, when the time comes, this young master will look after you."

William Bolton's face darkened. You little brat, you haven't even agreed yet and you're already trying to lord it over me. You're just asking for a beating. William Bolton angrily raised his hand.

"You little monkey, watch me spank your butt!"

Edward Clark begged for mercy with his mouth, but his actions were quick—he stuck his butt out and dove under the bed. But what was it like under the bed?

When he poked his little head out from the other side, his mouth was black as coal, his face covered in dust, instantly turning into a little imp. This made William Bolton burst out laughing. Edward Clark wiped his face, leaving three black fingerprints, and immediately joined in with a silly grin. The room was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

William Bolton and Edward Clark played around, finally relaxing a bit... but he was still anxious inside, afraid that his involvement would make Old Zhu unwilling to take in Edward Clark, ruining the boy's chance to become the adopted prince and future Duke of Qian, the guardian of Yunnan. That would be a huge loss.

He really wasn't wrong—having one more person did make things more complicated.

That evening, John Washington came back.

Adams said to her husband, "Little Brother Bolton and Edward Clark aren't real brothers, but they did come together. We can't just take one and leave the other behind. But the problem is, Little Brother Bolton is a few years older than Edward Clark, so the age doesn't fit. He's also from a noble family, and it looks like he's educated. Even if he's willing, we can't damage our virtue by mistreating a star of literature."

John Washington frowned. What his wife said was reasonable.

"It really is tricky. If he were a few years older, he could work for the commander. But at this age, it's just not easy to handle."

Adams glanced at her husband and added, "There's another thing. If he finds out who we are, that we're bandits, would he still want to stay?"

John Washington said in surprise, "He said his father didn't want to serve the Yuan court."

Adams couldn't help but roll her eyes at her husband. "So that means he's willing to be a rebel?"

That question stumped Old Zhu, and he hesitated again.

Back when he joined the army, he had hesitated for a long time. If he hadn't been desperate, who would want to risk their life? Let alone a child from a scholarly family.

In his heart, he hoped to have someone literate to help out. The city was in chaos, and relying solely on a bunch of rough men just wouldn't work.

But you can't force things—what's meant to be will be.

"Forget all this mess. Let's wait until he's up and about, then we'll have an open talk and ask what he thinks." John Washington said simply.

Adams nodded, "That's all we can do."

...

William Bolton didn't get an immediate answer from Adams, and it wasn't appropriate to press her. He could only focus on recovering, spending his days eating and taking medicine. The thick, bitter black herbal soup was unpleasant, but his body grew stronger by the day, even the doctor who came to check his pulse was surprised.

"Kid, you really came back from the gates of hell!"

William Bolton was curious and wanted to ask what medicine was used, but the doctor didn't say, only telling him that it included ginseng and donkey-hide gelatin, and the rest were all top-quality tonics for nourishing qi and blood.

"Kid, if it weren't for Miss Adams's instructions, these medicines would never have been used on you."

What else could William Bolton say? A life-saving favor—he had to remember it in his heart.

Five days passed, and William Bolton was already able to get out of bed and walk around.

Little Edward Clark was naturally the happiest. He circled around William Bolton, beaming with joy, talking all about Adams. Although he hadn't been officially adopted yet, she already treated Edward Clark almost like a son, giving him new clothes and shoes, and even a delicate tiger-head cap on his head—utterly adorable.

It looked like Edward Clark's chance to become the adopted prince was promising.

William Bolton was happy for Edward Clark, but still hadn't figured out how he would find his own place.

After John Washington and Adams got married, they received a small courtyard of their own. Getting a house with your bride—how many people would envy that?

The couple lived in the main room, while William Bolton stayed in the east wing. Besides the makeshift sickroom, there was half a room filled with books, though no one ever came to read them, so they were covered in dust.

William Bolton believed that no matter when, reading more books and being a top test-taker was always a good thing—except, of course, in the rare case of a country ruled by a madman.

He walked in and carefully browsed through the books.

As an ordinary college student, he had read widely, and with the memories inherited in this body, reading these ancient texts wasn't difficult.

Soon, William Bolton got used to it. He spent all his free time reading. Adams noticed and told William Bolton that all the books here were his to read as he pleased.