Samuel Grant hurriedly scrambled up from the ground, reached behind his waist, and pulled out an account book, handing it to William Turner.

"Take a look at this."

William Turner frowned deeply. What on earth was this guy up to? He handed the noodles to Samuel Grant, pinched his nose, opened the account book, and skimmed through it at lightning speed.

Ever since he transmigrated, William Turner felt his memory had clearly improved, his mind working much faster. He might not have photographic memory, but it was close.

He flipped through quickly. This seemed to be a shop’s income and expense ledger, but as he read, William Turner couldn’t help but shake his head. The accounts were extremely messy and rough, the dates were all mixed up, the handwriting was unclear, and there were plenty of corrections and erasures—just looking at it gave him a headache.

But this was nothing for William Turner. In his previous life, he’d seen all kinds of accounts and tricks—handling this was child’s play.

Samuel Grant watched anxiously and asked cautiously, "Young master, is there a problem with the account book?"

"There’s definitely a big problem. At least a thousand taels have been embezzled," William Turner said vaguely, not knowing what this guy was up to. "But with just this one book, I can’t say for sure."

Samuel Grant swallowed and asked, "If I give you all the account books, can you figure it out?"

"Shouldn’t be a problem!"

"Great!" Samuel Grant grabbed William Turner's arm and started dragging him off without another word.

"Hey, are you kidnapping me?"

Samuel Grant quickly forced a smile. "How would I dare, young master? I’m begging you, please help me out!"

"You want me to check the accounts, right?"

"Yes." Samuel Grant nodded pleadingly.

"No way!" William Turner refused without hesitation.

"You dare?" Samuel Grant rolled his eyes, raised the broadsword in his hand, and shouted, "Kid, you tricked me just now and got me beaten up. We haven’t settled that account yet! This knife is called Green Dragon, Green Dragon Crescent Blade—believe it or not, I’ll chop you in half!"

It’s called the Green Dragon Crescent Blade, for crying out loud! William Turner was completely defeated.

"Be careful, don’t spill the noodles, or Auntie Zhu will deal with you!"

At the mention of Auntie Zhu, Samuel Grant shivered instinctively and quickly hugged the bowl tightly.

"Fine, I’ll help you, but my dad is still sleeping at home. Let me deliver the noodles first."

"Oh, why is your dad so lazy?"

Damn, looking for a beating, huh!

"Say one more word, and even if you beg on your knees, I won’t help you."

Samuel Grant shrank his neck in fear, immediately shut his mouth, and obediently followed behind William Turner, step by step, up to the small bamboo house.

Mr. Turner was half-awake. William Turner waved the noodles in front of his nose, and he obediently opened his eyes, smiling, "My son knows how to care for his father. I’ll wash my face first."

As he got up, he happened to see Samuel Grant lounging at the door and couldn’t help but ask, "Who’s this? He doesn’t look like a good person."

Sharp eyes, indeed!

William Turner laughed, "Dad, he wants me to help check some accounts."

"Check accounts? You know how to read account books?" Mr. Turner was truly surprised. This kid always had ideas, and the two of them were on their way to becoming rich. He admitted his son was smart and quick-witted. But to understand account books, you needed deep knowledge of arithmetic and bookkeeping rules—no way he’d taught him that, right?

Seeing his father’s doubt, William Turner chuckled, "Just taking a look. If I can’t do it, I still have you, don’t I?"

That flattery felt great. Mr. Turner smiled proudly, "No problem! Brothers fight together, fathers and sons go to war together. If you really can’t do it, your dad’s got your back!"

"Alright, I’m heading out now."

Leaving home, Samuel Grant led the way. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and muttered, "I think I’ve been tricked again! Is your dad better than you?"

William Turner nodded and smiled, "Of course."

"Then why am I looking for you? Wouldn’t it be better to find your dad?" Samuel Grant turned to run, but William Turner reached out and grabbed his collar. Samuel Grant was pretty strong, and William Turner had to run a few steps with him before stopping.

"Let me tell you, grown-ups have important things to do. This is just a messy account. If it weren’t for Auntie Zhu, I wouldn’t even bother! If my dad took the job, it’d cost at least two hundred taels per trip—can you afford that?"

"Two hundred taels! I don’t even have two taels," Samuel Grant immediately drooped his head and obediently led the way toward the Liuhe Fort dock. He never thought that if Mr. Turner was so capable, why would he still be living in a cramped little bamboo house...

The two of them arrived at the dock one after the other. Looking around, several boats were docked, with strong men hauling heavy cargo, sweating profusely and grunting with effort. On the shore, a group of people surrounded a burly man who was directing the unloading.

Samuel Grant shouted loudly, "Seventh Master, Seventh Master, I’ve brought the person you wanted!"

The burly man turned around abruptly, caught sight of William Turner, and was instantly at a loss whether to laugh or cry. Stroking his beard, he cursed, "Samuel Grant, are you blind? I told you to find an accountant, and you bring me a kid who’s barely weaned?"

Damn, looked down on again!

William Turner was instantly furious. It’s just a messy account—he’d seen so much worse in his previous life. Forget Liuhe Fort, even in the capital, William Turner wouldn’t be fazed at all.