In no time at all, William Grant, wearing a face full of confusion, led the case file and wandered unsteadily to the entrance of the residence.

Outside the gate, the sword-bearing guard saw William Grant, squeezed out a smile, and greeted him respectfully.

“Greetings, Young Master Grant. My lord is touring the gardens today and has specially invited you to join him.”

William Grant looked the sword-bearing guard up and down, asking with some doubt,

“Do I know your lord?”

Upon hearing this, the guard’s lips curled into a strange smile. He stepped forward and whispered something quietly.

In an instant, William Grant’s eyes bulged wide.

Oh damn! Who would have thought that the Mr. Carter whose pants had been lying on the ground for ages without being picked up was actually a bona fide prince.

But thinking about it, aside from the minor flaw of the plate glass, just considering Miss Shishi’s looks, those enchanting eyes, and the luxurious amenities of that standalone villa—

Anyone who could come and go there, whether in the car or under it, couldn’t possibly be an ordinary person.

Seeing William Grant’s expression, the guard was a bit baffled, feeling that the son of the Grand Commandant’s gaze and expression were rather odd and not at all proper.

But after blinking, he saw William Grant break into an innocent smile and cheerfully say,

“Alright, alright, then I’ll trouble you, big brother guard, to lead the way. I really hit it off with that young man at first sight.

It’s just a pity I didn’t know his identity, so I couldn’t arrange to meet. Today’s the perfect chance to get close…”

“……”

Chapter 13: Mm-hmm, alright, whatever you say, little brother

Hearing this form of address, the guard’s eye twitched uncontrollably, his scalp tingling.

He instantly recalled that day when he was on duty at the gate, he’d heard this kind of address that gave him goosebumps all over.

Looking at the Young Master Grant in front of him, who was only eleven or twelve, the guard could only force a smile and laugh it off.

Forget it, forget it, as a mere member of the imperial guard, it’s best not to say too much.

Following the guard to a spot not far from the street corner, they saw a carriage surrounded by a group of guards.

And on horseback beside the carriage sat an old man with a pale, beardless face and a rather effeminate smile.

William Grant approached the old man and greeted him with a warm, friendly smile.

“Uncle, are you waiting for me? Where’s the young man?”

“Young…” The smile on Henry Young’s face froze, and just then, the carriage curtain was slowly lifted.

Seated inside was James Carter, who, with a helpless smile, beckoned to William Grant.

“I’m here, come on, get in the carriage…”

“Alright, little brother.”

As soon as William Grant climbed into the carriage, Henry Young, still holding the reins, couldn’t help but whisper,

“Young Master Grant, you shouldn’t address His Highness like that.”

“Why?” William Grant glanced sidelong at the Prince of Yan, who was smiling gently and looking at him with curiosity, already having made up his mind.

“So young and handsome, so eloquent—he’s clearly a really nice little brother. I don’t want to call him old.”

James Carter, who was stroking his short mustache, heard this and, though his expression didn’t change, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl up.

“You should…” Henry Young began, a bit displeased, but was interrupted by the voice of James Carter from inside the carriage.

“Alright, alright, then how should I address you?”

“However you like, little brother. You can call me Little Grant if you want.”

“Little brother, Little Grant, hahaha… interesting. Then I’ll call you Little Grant.”

“Okay, little brother.”

“How about you call me Buddy, and I’ll call you Little Grant, how’s that?”

“Mm-hmm, alright, whatever Buddy says goes.”

“……” Listening to the laughter and conversation coming from inside the carriage, Henry Young’s face was as dark as a charcoal burner’s kiln.

All the guards exchanged bewildered glances, their faces full of odd expressions. Little brother, Little Grant—what the heck kind of weird nicknames are these?

The sovereign and Young Master Grant are both using diminutives… tsk tsk tsk…

Who would have thought that the only son of Grand Commandant Grant was quite the character—so young, yet so glib, making the sovereign beam with joy.

Although he didn’t understand why the Prince of Yan, who’d forgotten to pull up his pants, had invited him today,

It didn’t stop William Grant from doing his best to play his part.

After all, the other party was a prince—best not to offend him if possible.

……

“Little Grant, I’ve heard that you and that Cai Ai… hmm, the sixth son of the Cai Chancellor’s family, have had several conflicts.”

Hearing the Prince of Yan mention this, and meeting his probing gaze, William Grant’s heart skipped a beat.

His own father had just been ordered by the muddle-headed emperor to reflect behind closed doors yesterday, and today the Prince of Yan was here to ask about his conflicts with that Cai sixth son.

It seemed likely this was at the emperor’s behest, wanting the Prince of Yan to find out the truth.

“I didn’t expect such a trivial matter to alarm someone as important as Buddy.”

William Grant gave the Prince of Yan, who was watching him closely, a harmless smile.

“It really wasn’t a big deal. If he hadn’t provoked me and insulted my father, nothing would have happened.”