So everyone went to the accounting room, where there were pens and ink ready. Stephen Brooks had an excellent memory; his brush moved swiftly and powerfully, and he quickly wrote out a record several pages long. After he finished, those among the group who could roughly read and write took it to look over. Fortunately, Stephen Brooks had recounted everything in plain spoken language, with no complicated words or phrases, so it was still understandable.

After reading it, the man nodded, then picked up the pen to sign and make his mark... The so-called "making a mark," also called "hua ya," is, according to personal habit and creativity, using a symbol or drawing as a sign of trust. Since only the person themselves knows the basis for the mark, it is hard for others to forge. Thus, it serves the same function as a seal in showing credibility.

Once everyone had signed and marked, Stephen Brooks gently blew the ink dry on the paper, carefully tucked it into his chest, then stood up, cupped his fists to everyone, and bowed, saying, "Thank you." With that, he turned and strode away.

※※※

As soon as he walked out the main gate of the charcoal yard, Stephen Brooks's steps slowed, and looking at the familiar white walls and black tiles in the distance, his heart felt unbearably heavy—he wished he could just collapse by the lake and have a good cry.

But his will was extremely strong. He took out the tattered tiger-head shoe from his chest and looked at it, then strode toward that all-too-familiar courtyard house.

On the way, villagers he met all cast sympathetic glances at him. Stephen Brooks kept his eyes straight ahead and walked directly to his own front door.

The main gate of the house was tightly shut. He knocked heavily on the door ring.

"Who is it?" came the voice of the maid Grace.

"It's me!" Stephen Brooks said in a deep voice.

"Second brother is back!" Grace hurried off to report.

"So soon?" The husband and wife exchanged a surprised look.

"What must come will come," Stephen Brooks said. "Let him in."

The gate, closed for several days, finally opened. Stephen Brooks saw his two nephews, who were also his students for many years, Eric Brooks and Frank Brooks, waiting in the courtyard. The kind of teacher makes the kind of student; Eric Brooks and Frank Brooks were nothing like their parents, but rather the same type as him.

The two brothers were waiting here to brief him, but since Stephen Brooks had already learned the details of the case, he didn't want to waste words. He nodded to them and simply asked, "Where is my son?"

"Second uncle, in the woodshed in the back courtyard," Eric Brooks replied respectfully.

Stephen Brooks went straight to the back courtyard; he had to see his son's condition before he could be at ease.

In the house, besides the Chen family, there were only two maids and old women. Seeing him carrying a cudgel, none dared step forward to stop him.

He went directly to the back, and at the tightly locked woodshed door, Stephen Brooks swung the cudgel in a circle and struck hard—the brass lock on the door fell off with a clang.

This startled both his nephews and Stephen Brooks, who was peeking from the main house. They had never seen this violent side of him.

Stephen Brooks pushed open the woodshed and saw his three sons, dressed in rags, yellow-faced and thin, huddled in fear, tears streaming down their faces.

Actually, Charles was holding his two younger brothers as they slept; the three brothers were just startled awake by Stephen Brooks's blow.

"Father..." Seeing who it was, Little Henry and Robert Black burst into loud sobs and threw themselves into his arms, leaving Charles feeling quite awkward.

Chapter 10: People Need Culture

Tightly hugging his two skinny sons, Stephen Brooks looked toward Charles, who was shrinking in the corner... Of course, this was from his perspective; in fact, Charles Brooks was only in the corner because he was acting as a bed for his two younger brothers.

But in a father's eyes, this was the behavior of a son who had gotten into trouble and was afraid of him. His heart ached; he moved his two younger sons to his left arm, freeing his right, and said, "Charles, come here to father..."

'No way...' Charles Brooks shivered, hugging his arms tightly. Although he truly regarded Robert and Henry as his brothers, he still couldn't get used to suddenly having a father like this.

"Come here, father doesn't blame you..." Seeing this, Stephen Brooks felt even more pity.

'Damn, no choice, just bear with it.' Since he was taking himself as Charles, he had to be professional. He silently chanted in his heart: 'I am Charles Brooks, I am Charles Brooks...' While hypnotizing himself, he slowly shuffled over.

Stephen Brooks had been holding his right arm out for so long it was getting sore, and only when Charles finally came did he pull him tightly into his embrace.

Charles Brooks instantly broke out in goosebumps, his back cold, and only one thought in his mind: 'I'm actually being hugged by a man, and so tightly...' His back tensed up involuntarily.

Sensing his son's unease, Stephen Brooks still thought it was fear, so he gently patted his back and said, "Don't worry, father is back now."

Although he felt uncomfortable all over, Charles Brooks still felt a warmth in his heart. Heaven knows how helpless he had been these days, how much he had wished for some immortal to come save him.

After a moment of father-son affection, Stephen Brooks picked up Henry, and with Charles and Robert, strode toward the main room.

Inside, Stephen Brooks and Holt sat and lay respectively, and their two sons were ordered to stand on either side to keep order. The couple's faces were full of anger as they watched the four father and sons walk in.

Stephen Brooks set Henry down, bowed deeply to his elder brother and sister-in-law, and said, "Big brother, sister-in-law, your younger brother has returned."

The two ignored him, turning their heads away in anger.