In history, Joseph Baker was the one who did this job for Old Mr. Washington. When it came time for rewards and recognition, he was actually ranked above Thomas Miller, becoming the number one founding hero!

William Bolton certainly didn’t expect that much, and besides, what’s the point of such great merit? If he could be like Edward Clark, guarding a region after the founding of the country and living as a stable local lord, he’d be satisfied.

But on second thought, it seemed that throughout the entire Ming dynasty, there was only one Duke of Qian who ruled Yunnan for generations!

Wanting to have another one like that wouldn’t be easy.

William Bolton pulled himself together. He asked Adams for brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. After all, he came from a scholarly family, and muscle memory made it easy for William Bolton to master writing.

Although his handwriting wasn’t great, it was at least legible.

After several days of working tirelessly, he finally took a thick stack—dozens of pages—and handed it to John Washington during dinner.

“Not that many,” John Washington said happily as he took them.

William Bolton also smiled and said, “It’s not a lot, after all, it’s just a catalog. I’ve also listed some books at the end. Benefactor, you’d better get them as soon as possible. We’ve already lost a lot of time, and we must make up for it!”

William Bolton’s smile was bright, as if he were looking at prey walking right into a trap.

Old Mr. Washington’s face immediately darkened. Make up for what? For his life?

Beside him, Adams couldn’t help but laugh, but still earnestly advised, “The young teacher is right. John, you really need to study hard! Otherwise, I’ll have to stop weaving and urge my husband to study.”

Old Mr. Washington was stunned again. What was she talking about?

“See, you don’t even know about ‘stopping the loom for virtue’! John, you really must work hard!” Adams said with a smile.

John Washington kept a straight face, blushing, unable to reply, and could only say with a sense of resignation, “Alright, dear, I understand!”

From this day on, William Bolton officially started his job as a teacher. Since John Washington had to work at the commandery, he could only study and learn to read and write in the mornings and evenings when he was free.

William Bolton didn’t bother with gradual progress. In the morning, he read beginner books like “Three Character Classic” and practiced writing; in the evening, he read Confucian classics and explained history.

In any regular school, this would be considered nonsense—like taking kindergarten and graduate courses at the same time. Any ordinary person would go crazy!

But clearly, Old Mr. Washington was no ordinary person—he managed.

And William Bolton was no ordinary person either. He even made a few palm-sized handwritten booklets for John Washington to keep in his sleeve, so he could read whenever he had a spare moment during the day, and be tested at night—never wasting a single moment.

If you’re not a little crazy, you can’t survive. If you want to soar, how can you refuse hardship?

William Bolton did his best to teach, and Old Mr. Washington worked hard to learn. The two of them even became a bit competitive.

Time kept moving forward, and with only a few days left before the New Year, John Washington, who hadn’t gained much, remembered the importance of respecting teachers and proposed, “Teacher, you haven’t gone out these days. With the New Year coming, you should buy some food and clothes, see something new—just a little token from me.”

William Bolton really hadn’t left the house. Hearing this from Old Mr. Washington, he felt a bit restless and nodded. John Washington happily went to find Adams—after all, no matter who you are, the wife holds the purse strings. When John Washington came back, William Bolton noticed he was clutching a big handful of paper money, which he casually stuffed into his chest, making it bulge.

How much money was that? Why did it seem so casual?

William Bolton’s eyes darted around, and he finally realized—this must be Yuan dynasty “baochao” (paper currency). Although the baochao was fairly stable for a few decades after the Yuan was founded, later on, with financial collapse and rampant overprinting, it became more and more worthless.

The two main reasons for the Red Turban Army’s rebellion were river works and currency devaluation—showing just how powerful this issue was.

The common people were full of complaints, but since the Red Turban Army hadn’t had time to introduce a new currency, they had to keep using it for now.

William Bolton followed John Washington out. The market in Haozhou wasn’t lively, and goods were scarce. They simply bought a new set of clothes and some cured meat and maltose.

William Bolton didn’t have much expectation for the New Year, but John Washington was different. He kept looking around—after all, this was his first New Year after marrying his wife, and the first year his life was looking up...

But just then, a horse suddenly galloped up, and a burly man jumped down.

“John!”

William Bolton turned to look. He didn’t know this person, but John Washington smiled and said, “This is my good brother, David Scott. He’s now a chiliarch in the city—his rank is higher than mine.”

Although John Washington said this, he didn’t act like he was meeting a superior. David Scott didn’t mind either—he believed it wouldn’t be long before John surpassed him, and that was only natural.

“Someone’s here.”

“Who?”

“It’s an envoy from Franklin Reed, a successful candidate from our Huai West region, named Stephen Wood.”

“What’s he here for?” John Washington asked with a frown.

“What else? To persuade us to surrender, of course!”

The government troops had made their move!

John Washington frowned. A few days ago, he’d confided his worries about the future to William Bolton. After talking with William Bolton, he’d gained confidence, but the others in the city might not feel the same...

“Teacher, I’m afraid I’ll have to go to the commandery.”