James Baker left, and only Brian Clark was left alone. He was a bit dazed—was he really going to die?

Old Baker would never actually abolish the Jinyiwei, and Theodore Roosevelt should know that. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be siding with the Jinyiwei! But Old Four Baker also wouldn’t really stand up for the Jinyiwei—after all, he didn’t have the guts to offend the Crown Prince Charles Baker!

Brian Clark silently pondered for a quarter of an hour, then suddenly his whole body trembled violently, cold sweat streaming down his shiny bald head!

Crap!

Old Four Baker had caught him—could it be he wanted to use his life as a scapegoat? Damn you, Zhu, if you really do that, you… you’ll regret it!

Brian Clark was furious, but utterly helpless.

In the end, a small fry like him had no right to control his own fate… Brian Clark could only pray that the Jinyiwei would rise up! After all, a secret police force that had run rampant for twenty years couldn’t possibly be without some tricks up its sleeve.

Hopefully, they could intimidate Old Four Baker, make him hesitate, and not dare to touch him!

Brian Clark prayed for divine intervention, while Theodore Roosevelt was much more pragmatic. He had his guards invite someone over—more precisely, an Old Monk!

This Old Monk looked to be just over fifty, with a large frame but little flesh, resembling a sick tiger. His eyes were shadowy, his nose hooked, the corners of his mouth drooping, and his chin protruding—one look and you could tell he wasn’t easy to deal with!

“Master Arthur King, I have a troublesome matter here and need your help.”

The Old Monk chuckled, “Your Highness, is it about Mao Xiang?”

Theodore Roosevelt leaned forward to consult him: “Master, my father has just issued another decree, abolishing the Jinyiwei. I can’t figure out what he means by this!”

“Hahaha!” The Old Monk laughed heartily. “Your Highness, forgive my bluntness, but the Crown Prince is really going too far!”

That was pretty straightforward. Theodore Roosevelt said helplessly, “The Jinyiwei may be arrogant and overbearing, but they can’t be abolished so lightly. My eldest brother is surrounded by scholars, and he loves listening to their gossip… As his younger brother, it’s not my place to say much!”

“Then don’t say anything at all!”

The Old Monk stroked his graying beard and said with a smile, “Your Highness, His Majesty rules with an iron fist. No matter who steps out of line, they’ll have to face the thunderous wrath of the sage! In recent years, with the Hu Weiyong case being revisited, His Majesty’s intention is to rectify the civil officials and clean up the bureaucracy. But digging up old accounts like this is bound to give people something to talk about, so whether it’s killing Mao Xiang or abolishing the Jinyiwei, it’s all to shut some people up!”

The Old Monk’s insight was indeed sharp and to the point. He continued, “But if anyone thinks His Majesty will stop here, they’re just daydreaming.”

George Washington may not have many other virtues, but he’s resolute and tough. Once he’s made up his mind, not even nine oxen could pull him back. Ever since Empress Ma passed away, no one has been able to change his mind!

“Master, you’re absolutely right. But today, Wang, the councilor from the Provincial Administration Commission, went to seal off the Jinyiwei’s Qianhu Office. I got caught up in the mess without realizing it, and now I don’t know what to do!”

Theodore Roosevelt was frustrated and angry, really wanting to tear that damned brat to pieces!

The Old Monk Arthur King frowned deeply. “Your Highness, you’d best watch from the sidelines on this matter. Isn’t His Majesty preparing for the northern campaign? Your top priority is to rack up military achievements—this will win over the troops and please the emperor. Other than that, none of it concerns Your Highness!”

Theodore Roosevelt thought of this and slapped his thigh. “Master, your advice is brilliant! It’s all that little bastard’s fault—he gave a false military report, truly despicable. I’m going to kill him!”

The Old Monk smiled slightly. “Your Highness, don’t be rash. In my opinion, it’s best to hand him over to the Provincial Administration Commission. It’s better not to offend the civil officials for now!”

……

Brian Clark had no idea he was about to be sold out by Old Four Baker.

At this moment, Brian Clark was gnashing his teeth. Outside the cell, there was a little kid, at most six or seven years old—the most annoying age—exceptionally mischievous, and with a mean streak!

He was grabbing stones and constantly throwing them into the room.

“Little thief, I’ll beat you to death! Beat you to death!”

Damn it, what did I ever do to you!

So young and already a troublemaker—if he’s raised right, he’ll just be a thug!

If this weren’t the Prince of Yan’s residence, a brat like this would be hung from a tree and given a good beating—let him know what’s what!

Brian Clark really couldn’t take it anymore and could only avoid the window, hiding where the brat couldn’t hit him. But the kid outside wouldn’t give up. He got even more worked up, his little eyes darting around, constantly coming up with new mischief.

He tilted his head and thought for a while, then ran off. When he came back, he was holding a bright, flaming torch!

The brat bared his teeth, grinning viciously, and shouted fiercely, “Burn! Burn! Burn! I’m going to burn you to death!”

“Burn your big-headed ghost!”

Brian Clark was furious. Damn kid, hasn’t anyone told you that playing with fire will make you wet the bed! It was bad enough to be dragged to the Prince of Yan’s residence—if he got burned to death by a brat, he’d die with his eyes open!

Brian Clark looked around, ready to charge out. Just then, a chubby boy of about ten came running over, panting, reached out, snatched the torch away, and angrily threw it to the ground.

The brat immediately turned hostile, puffed out his cheeks, and rushed at the chubby boy. But he was a few years younger, and in the scuffle, he got slapped by the chubby boy! The brat, stung by the pain, stopped fighting, puffed out his cheeks, and glared at the chubby boy in disbelief, saying, “You—you dare hit me?”