The crisp shouting snapped John Brooks out of his thoughts.

Seeing the black-and-blue David, looking extremely aggrieved and pitifully gazing at him.

“Father, did His Majesty punish that brat William Grant?”

Looking at his son, whose bruises hadn’t even faded before new ones appeared.

John Brooks couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger, his large hand stroking his long beard paused.

His gloomy eyes slowly turned twice, then he looked at his son Samuel Brooks with a gentle expression and said,

“David, both your father and Richard Grant are close to His Majesty.”

“His Majesty didn’t want to rebuke anyone over your little conflict with William Grant, so instead, he rewarded me with a hundred bolts of silk.”

Hearing John Brooks’s words, Samuel Brooks’s face darkened a bit.

John Brooks chuckled, patted Samuel Brooks’s head, his face full of doting affection.

“But David, don’t be discouraged. If His Majesty doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing…”

Seeing David still looking utterly dejected, John Brooks shook his head helplessly and glanced around.

His gaze landed on the guard standing at the hall entrance, looking vigorous and robust.

“Matthew Brooks, Peter Brooks, Andrew Brooks, Paul Brooks, the four of you will accompany David for the next few days.”

The four guards strode into the hall in unison, respectfully accepting the order.

John Brooks saw the look Samuel Brooks gave him, smiled, stroked his beard, and walked outside.

Only, as he passed by the four guards, he quietly instructed, “No killing.”

“Yes, sir!” The four minister’s guards responded in unison.

The bewildered Samuel Brooks, upon hearing his father’s whisper and seeing the four guards, quickly became elated.

“Thank you, Father!”

The moment he stepped out of the hall, the corner of John Brooks’s eye caught sight of the black-and-blue, yet delighted, David, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

The eldest is a troublemaker, actually going against his own father.

Fortunately, the other children are still obedient and filial—well, so far, they’re still filial.

They’re all good children. If they’re bullied outside, how can a father not stand up for them?

……

William Grant was lazily leaning against the corridor, staring blankly at the scenery in the courtyard.

Why is my luck so bad? Could it be because, before I transmigrated,

when I was touring the Yanqing Temple in Kaifeng, I peed in the wrong direction, causing my streak of bad luck?

Not only did I transmigrate, but after arriving in this era, I keep getting into conflicts whenever I go out.

The worst part is, the person I keep clashing with happens to be David Brooks.

Thinking about how David Brooks’s father is the historically infamous treacherous minister John Brooks, a master of political scheming, living life to the fullest.

And then thinking about how my own father, aside from being a master at playing ball, is nowhere near as powerful or respected as that old fox.

William Grant couldn’t help but feel exhausted—can’t I just quietly enjoy being a second-generation official?

Who is it that keeps messing with my peace of mind?!

At this thought, William Grant couldn’t help but slap his thigh and sigh deeply.

Standing nearby, Yvonne Foster watched as his young master alternated between sighing and lamenting.

Yet he had no idea how to comfort this little ancestor.

“Yvonne Foster…”

“I’m here, John—uh… Young Master, what are your orders?”

At the mention of John, William Grant immediately glared.

Fortunately, Yvonne Foster was quick to adapt and changed his words in time, so William Grant let it go.

John, that title, is very characteristic of the Song Dynasty, and also of Water Margin.

Most people can’t handle it; at least William Grant felt he couldn’t.

So now, everyone in the household addresses this little ancestor as Young Master, to avoid upsetting William Grant.

“Tell me, why won’t that David Brooks just make peace with me?”

With nothing better to do, and seeing that Yvonne Foster was a slick and capable fellow,

William Grant thought that even if Yvonne Foster couldn’t be a top advisor, two heads are better than one.

Upon hearing William Grant’s question, two scenes flashed through Yvonne Foster’s mind.

One was the young master, in a flash, rushing forward and landing three punches and a kick on the boastful David Brooks,

then dashing away, leaving him and two companions dumbfounded as they were beaten up by the The Brooks Family.

The other was the young master, again in a flash, rushing forward and pummeling David Brooks until he screamed,

then returning home looking frail and pitiful,

causing the master and madam to curse David Brooks to the heavens for being unfilial.

“Hmm? Yvonne Foster, what are you daydreaming about? I’m asking you a question.”

William Grant saw Yvonne Foster’s face turn pale, cold sweat breaking out.

He couldn’t help but suspiciously size up this burly, trusted attendant.

“Young Master, in my humble opinion, that David Brooks just doesn’t know what’s good for him.

He simply doesn’t realize how magnanimous and kind you are…”

Hearing this, William Grant stroked his chin and nodded in agreement.

“That’s true—not everyone is willing to repay evil with good like I am. Sigh…”