William Bolton shook his head. “Benefactor, to reopen the heavens for the Song is not about restoring the Song Dynasty, but about overthrowing the Yuan court! Never mind the Song itself—since the Three Dynasties and Qin and Han, the Central Plains dynasties have passed down in an unbroken line. Though there was chaos with the Five Barbarians, the south still held a corner of the land. Emperor Wen of Sui, Yang Jian, was a descendant of Han Grand Commandant Yang Zhen, and he unified the nine provinces, reviving Huaxia. Only after Yashan did the vast land, every inch of it, fall into the hands of the Mongols. The hearts of all under heaven are filled with grief and rage, blood and tears welling up. On top of that, the Mongols are cruel and tyrannical, despising southerners—a human life is worth less than livestock. How could men of insight not hate and resent them? To reopen the heavens for the Song is simply to change the very order of the world!”

At this point, William Bolton reached out and unfurled the ink orchid painting.

“Please look, Benefactor. This orchid has no roots or leaves—the artist once said, all the land has been taken away. He considered himself a remnant subject all his life, and would never serve as an official under the Yuan court!”

Hearing this, John Washington was deeply shaken. He couldn’t help but bend over and stare at the painting, looking at it again and again before finally saying, “This man truly has integrity!”

After sighing, John Washington continued, “From what you’re saying, reopening the Song is secondary—taking back the land is what really matters! What Liu Futong and the others say is just to rally people’s hearts.”

Old Mr. Washington quickly grasped the key point. William Bolton nodded firmly. They gathered around the painting, talking about people, about the nation, about the past… The more they talked, the more excited John Washington became. The confusion and doubts he’d had before suddenly became clear. He’d long wanted someone to explain things to him, but had never met someone who truly understood.

Today, his wish was finally fulfilled. He gained so much that, as they talked, they even forgot about dinner, until Adams came looking for them and Old Mr. Washington reluctantly stopped.

At the dinner table, Old Mr. Washington still told Adams, “Before, it was like I was trapped in a big vat, but after hearing what Little Brother Bolton said, everything suddenly became clear. I’ve really learned a lot.”

Adams was happy to hear this. She used to worry that William Bolton, being a scholar from a noble family, would not get along with her husband, but now she realized she’d worried too much.

Adams smiled as she picked food for William Bolton, and said, “Looks like we’ll be troubling Little Brother Bolton a lot in the future.”

William Bolton responded politely, then suddenly realized an opportunity.

If he wanted to stay by John Washington’s side, he had to be valuable enough—after all, no one wants to keep a freeloader. So William Bolton considered and said, “Benefactor, just listening to me talk may not be of much use. If you’re willing to learn, it’s best to start from the beginning and be properly educated.”

John Washington was moved, but said regretfully, “When I was a child, I went to private school, but my family was poor. I only studied for two months before my eldest brother was to be married, and the money was used for his bride price. Later, at Huangjue Temple, I read some Buddhist scriptures and learned a few characters. I’ve always wanted to study, but no one was willing to teach me.”

At this moment, Adams couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t the answer right here? Just ask Little Brother Bolton to teach you!”

John Washington was taken aback. This young man, aside from being young, didn’t seem to have any other faults. He suddenly stood up and gave William Bolton a deep bow. “Would the young teacher be willing to instruct me?”

Old Mr. Washington’s straightforwardness startled William Bolton, who quickly said, “If you’re willing to learn, Benefactor, I will do my utmost. My learning isn’t deep, but if you think me worthy, it’s truly my good fortune. There’s no need to be so polite. To speak from the heart, my very life was saved by you, Benefactor—I’ve been worrying about how to repay you!”

William Bolton spoke sincerely, and both John Washington and Adams were all smiles.

John Washington said, “Sister, the young teacher has agreed. Make a couple more dishes and bring another pot of wine—we can’t treat the young teacher poorly.”

While Adams was preparing, John Washington laughed and said, “Perhaps the young teacher has already guessed—I’m a Red Turban from Haozhou. Over these years, I’ve lost my parents, my elder brother, my eldest nephew… My family is ruined, I have nowhere to go, and I hate this court!”

William Bolton nodded, sighing, “Benefactor, I too have both family and national hatred!”

John Washington was momentarily stunned, then remembered that William Bolton’s parents had just died at the hands of government soldiers. Both of them had suffered greatly, and Old Mr. Washington felt even closer to William Bolton.

“Young teacher, I’m still not so sure in my heart. Right now, the court still has a million-strong army, and the Red Turban rebels are hardly in a good position! A few months ago, Sesame Li of Xuzhou was wiped out, and only Peng Da and Zhao Junyong escaped naked to Haozhou. Not long ago, news came that Bu Wangsan, who led the northern Red Turbans, also died. I’m really afraid I won’t live to see the day of revenge, and will lose my head first.”

It truly was the most difficult time for the Red Turban Army, so it was no wonder John Washington was worried.

William Bolton immediately straightened his back and encouraged him, “I don’t understand military affairs… but my father used to say, ‘Barbarian rule never lasts a hundred years.’ The Yuan court has almost reached a hundred years. The emperor is muddleheaded, the powerful are greedy, they plunder without restraint, and the people can’t survive. On top of that, disasters keep coming, the Yellow River floods, and the Yuan court is already at its end. Yet the Yuan court’s actions now only force more people to lose their homes, become refugees, and join the Red Turbans. In the long run, the Yuan court is bound to fall, and the Red Turbans are bound to win! The road will just be a bit rough.”

John Washington was once again invigorated—these words made sense!