Waves of delicate fragrance wafted around, and as soon as Donna Smith took a whiff, her appetite was greatly aroused. After about half an hour, the big fish was finally made into a pot of fish soup. The servants carried the soup to the side hall, and Donna Smith sent someone to call for Henry Clark. Little Chubby One had just been half-forcibly brought back to his room, and now was brought out again, his dissatisfaction written all over his face, pouting and dragging his feet as he came.

Donna Smith first picked out a piece of meat and put it in her mouth. The meat instantly melted, turning into a stream of juice that rushed straight to her stomach. The taste was not fragrant, but just one bite made Donna Smith feel all her fatigue melt away, leaving her feeling incomparably refreshed. She nodded, then called out to Henry Clark, “Come, eat!” Little Chubby One sniffed with his nose, then quickly ran to Donna Smith's side and looked down at the food.

“Is this the big fish I caught?”

“Eat!” Donna Smith didn’t bother with more words. Little Chubby One just felt more and more confused by his mother—clearly it wasn’t mealtime, and before, he was never allowed to eat extra, but now she was forcing him to eat. Still, Little Chubby One had a good appetite, so he licked his lips, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat. With the first bite, the meat melted into juice and flowed straight into Little Chubby One's stomach.

Little Chubby One touched his belly in shock and looked up at Donna Smith. Donna Smith frowned sternly and called out, “Eat!” Little Chubby One had no choice but to continue eating. Though the meat wasn’t fragrant, it wasn’t hard to eat either. After eating for a while, Little Chubby One felt full. The fish was so big, there was no way he could finish it alone. He looked up and said, “Mother, this fish is so big, I can’t finish it by myself. Let’s eat together.”

Donna Smith shook her head and said, “This fish, only you may eat it. No one else, not even I, may have any. Don’t argue, eat!”

Little Chubby One nodded thoughtfully, and these words were deeply imprinted in his mind, later becoming the foundation of his worldview.

Under his mother’s insistence, Little Chubby One sweated profusely as he slowly finished the entire fish. Although the fish was large, it had no innards and not much meat, mostly bones. Donna Smith helped pick out the bones and fed all the meat to him. In the end, even the soup was forcibly poured into Henry Clark's mouth. For the first time, Little Chubby One realized that eating could actually be so painful!

In the end, he was carried back to his room by the servants, his belly swollen into a round ball, unable to sit or lie comfortably. As soon as the attendants put him on the bed, Little Chubby One immediately fell into a deep sleep, even snoring.

Afterwards, the entire marquis household became busy. The Steward in Han times was originally an official in the household of a feudal lord, but nowadays it refers to the house steward. The marquis household’s steward, Clark Steward, was a distant relative who had served in the household for over fifty years and was respected by all. The one Donna Smith had called for earlier was him. He had been busy outside with spring planting, but upon hearing of the auspicious signs, hurried back to the marquis residence. On the way, he met the person sent by Donna Smith and sped up his pace.

Clark Steward stood in the main hall, leaning on a cane, his whole body hunched over, swaying and trembling, looking as if he might collapse at any moment. His face was full of the marks of age, thin and gaunt, his eyes squinting. Donna Smith quickly offered him a seat, and a strong servant helped the old man sit down.

“Three years have passed since my husband’s death. In these three years, you have worked diligently and loyally. I am endlessly grateful,” Donna Smith had just finished speaking when Clark Steward trembled as he bowed and said, “Madam, what are you saying? This old man has little talent and average virtue, and does not dare accept such great thanks from you.”

The Han dynasty valued filial piety and respect for the elderly, so Donna Smith dared not accept such a deep bow from Clark Steward and quickly returned the gesture.

An old man over eighty in the Han dynasty was not required to bow to officials; even the emperor would have to greet him with proper ceremony.

Although Clark Steward was only in his sixties, Donna Smith still had to treat him with utmost respect. Respecting the old and caring for the young was the custom of the Han, and no one could break this rule.

“I am nearly sixty, my eyes are dim, and I am ready to retire and return home to enjoy my family…”

Donna Smith understood that her words had been a bit abrupt, and that Clark Steward had misunderstood. She quickly explained what had happened that day. Clark Steward's eyes widened, and he remained silent until Donna Smith finished. Only then did he come to his senses, his whole body trembling. An auspicious sign! Young Master is truly blessed! He opened his once-cloudy eyes, now clear and bright, with no trace of old age left.

“This… madam… Young Lord…” The old man had spent his whole life in the marquis household, growing up with Young Lord's grandfather. He had personally raised the previous marquis, and since he had no children of his own, he had long regarded Henry Clark as his own son, loving him dearly. At this moment, his voice trembled, his words faltered, but his spirit seemed to return to its peak, like a sword drawn from its sheath!

“The Son of Heaven has no heir… the one destined by Heaven is my son!” Donna Smith spoke her mind directly. If she couldn’t trust this old man who had worked diligently for the marquis household for decades, who else could she trust?

“Not good!” The old man suddenly stood up. The strong servant was startled and tried to help, but was pushed away. The old man’s face flushed red as he scolded the servant, “You blind fool, go stand guard outside!” The servant hurried out in panic. For a moment, Donna Smith was also dumbfounded. Wasn’t it said that Mr. Clark was old and frail, unlikely to last the year? How could this be…