“Madam, although those servants are all private slaves of my The Clark Family, they cannot be fully trusted. Among them, there are inevitably spies for others. How can we just let them go like this? Please, Madam, give the order for someone to bring generous gifts to their homes, to thank their mothers and wives, so as to highlight their contributions!” A trace of ruthlessness flashed in Clark Steward's eyes as he said, “Then send them here to me. For the spring planting, I still need some servants to help!”

　　Donna Smith was stunned for a moment before she nodded and said, “Very well.”

　　The old man (in an instant, he returned to his original muddled and senile state) trembled as he saluted and said, “In addition, I beg Madam to remember, the matter of the Heavenly Book is of utmost importance and must not be leaked. Even the Qi family... absolutely not. Madam, you are the mother of the The Clark Family, not just Donna Smith!” After speaking, the old man took his leave and departed. Donna Smith frowned, remaining silent.

Chapter 0004: The Old Tutor

　　After eating the goldfish, Henry Clark fell into a deep sleep, sleeping for a full day and night. This gave Donna Smith quite a scare; she personally stayed by Henry Clark's side. If it weren’t for Henry Clark’s strong pulse and steady breathing, Donna Smith might have “slept” as well. Thus, in anxious waiting, a whole day and night passed before Henry Clark finally woke up slowly.

　　Opening his eyes, he saw his mother kneeling by his side, her face haggard, eyes bloodshot. The little chubby boy called out “Mother” in a childish voice, and Donna Smith hugged him tightly, nearly bursting into tears. “Dalang, are you alright? Do you feel unwell? Any pain?” The little chubby boy was almost suffocated by his mother’s embrace. When Donna Smith finally managed to lift him and hold him in her arms, he shook his head and said, “I don’t feel anything, Mother.”

　　“That’s good, that’s good.” Donna Smith said, kissing the little chubby boy’s forehead several times.

　　The little chubby boy thoroughly enjoyed his mother’s affection, lazily lying there. It was only when a maid nearby couldn’t bear to watch any longer that she whispered, “Young Marquis, Madam hasn’t slept for a whole day and night…”

　　“Mind your tongue!” Donna Smith snorted coldly, letting the little chubby boy get up and slowly look him over. The little chubby boy didn’t seem any different; his belly was still round. Smiling, she pinched his chubby cheeks before standing up and saying, “Dalang doesn’t need to study today. Just stay in the residence and play!” After giving orders to the servants to prepare food, she went to rest herself.

　　As it turned out, the little chubby boy never liked studying much. The old tutor was rigid and stern, harsh in his ways, never caring about his status—he would hit him at the slightest provocation. Getting rid of this old man was actually a good thing. The little chubby boy couldn’t help but laugh, called a few servants, broke off some branches to use as horses, grabbed his wooden sword, and started playing in the courtyard.

　　“What? No lessons today?”

　　“To stand in the world, one must study literature. If you don’t study, how can you be a filial son?”

　　The familiar roar made the little chubby boy shiver. He turned and ran back into the house, while the servants looked at each other in dismay.

　　At the east courtyard gate, an old man was angrily shouting. Several servants in front of him could only smile wryly, not daring to make things difficult for him. This old man was Henry Clark’s tutor. Four or five years ago, he came uninvited, bringing a book written by Henry Clark’s grandfather, and offered to teach the children. Donna Smith had no choice but to welcome him. Although the old man dressed plainly and was not famous, he was a strict and diligent teacher, earning Donna Smith’s respect.

　　The old man wore a white Confucian robe, a tall hat, and a sword at his waist, holding several scrolls in his hand. Though nearly seventy, his temper was fiery. Seeing that these people wouldn’t let him in, he almost drew his sword to force his way through. A servant said, “Please forgive us, sir. There is an important matter in the residence, and this is Madam’s order. You will still receive your rice and wine as usual!”

　　In the eyes of everyone in the marquis’s residence, this old man was odd. After entering the residence, he never allowed Henry Clark to formally become his disciple, nor did he accept the six ceremonial gifts. He only came twice a week, asking for just one measure of rice and two jugs of wine each time.

　　It would have been fine if the servant hadn’t said anything, but after he did, the old man’s face turned pale with anger, his whole body trembling. The servant, oblivious, brought the rice, wine, and some money, bowing and presenting them to the old man. “Here!” The old man suddenly drew his sword and sliced the copper tray in two. The servant screamed in fright, fell to the ground, and stared at the old man in terror.

　　“How dare you! How dare you insult me like this!”

　　“Enough, enough. Ji Ping, I, Xiu, have spoken out of turn. Your descendants are without virtue! I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” The old man shook his head, muttered, snorted coldly, and was about to turn and leave when he suddenly saw, in the distance, a round, sneaky little head peeking out from behind the door, staring at him. Seeing that vaguely familiar face, the old man was suddenly stunned.

　　Originally, Henry Clark thought the old man was leaving, so he poked his head out to watch. Who would have thought the old man would spot him? Henry Clark was startled and turned to run. “You little rascal!” The old man grew even angrier, grabbed his sword, and chased after him. The servants couldn’t stop him at all, and the old man charged in. Rushing into the courtyard, the little chubby boy saw the old man chasing after him, screamed “Oh no!” and ran even faster!