“Madam, please calm down, there’s really no other way. Showing respect to Deputy Thompson, greasing the palms of Mr. Harris, and treating all the yamen runners to meals—all of this costs money. Besides, now that he’s gone, aren’t you feeling more at ease? I’m doing this for your own good!”

“Hmph! You talk a good game. Just this once—if you dare steal my money again, see how I deal with you.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Madam, rest assured, I won’t dare do it again.”

……

William Thompson seemed to understand his father’s intentions—it looked like he had found him a job. That was fine; he didn’t know much about the Four Books and Five Classics anyway, so it was best not to take the scholar’s exam. Lifting the curtain, Mr. Thompson walked in. Seeing his son about to get out of bed, he waved his hands in alarm, “Get back up! Quickly, get back up!”

“Father, I’m tired of lying down and want to walk a bit.” As soon as William Thompson set foot on the ground, the world spun and he staggered, nearly falling. Mr. Thompson hurriedly supported him, recalling Dr. Cooper’s advice that walking more would help him recover faster.

“All right! Father will help you walk a bit.”

Mr. Thompson supported his son as they slowly walked out of the room, passed through a small gate, and entered a large courtyard. This was William Thompson’s first time seeing his own home. In his imagination, a landlord’s house should have a spacious courtyard, with beautiful scenery at every step, rockeries and fish ponds everywhere, and various pavilions and towers nestled among green trees and red flowers. But the scene before him left him stunned: rice straw was piled in the corners of the yard, and in the center stood more than a dozen large baskets filled with grain. Several villagers were standing in front of the baskets threshing rice. Even more bewildering, there was a vegetable patch in one corner of the yard, with two melon trellises, and a hen leading a brood of chicks leisurely pecking about. How was this a landlord’s home? It was clearly a large farmhouse.

Seeing his dazed look, Mr. Thompson pointed at the grain baskets and said with a smile, “In a few days, the county will be collecting grain. The family is getting ready! This is a big event every year.”

“What kind of job did Father find for me?” William Thompson suddenly asked.

“How did you know?” Mr. Thompson blinked. He immediately realized his son must have overheard in the room. His face reddened slightly as he said, “Father pulled some strings to get you a job at the county yamen. Go there and learn how to deal with people and the world. These years of exams have made you silly.”

‘The county yamen,’ he thought. Did this mean he was going to be a civil servant?

……

(Linhuai County is actually exempt from taxes; this point in the book does not match history, just to clarify.)

Volume One: Swept into a Major Case

Chapter Three: Working at the Yamen

William Thompson’s father was the village head of Thompson Village and the surrounding area. To resolve the conflict between his son and his second wife, he found his son a job at the Linhuai County yamen. Once his son’s health improved, he took William Thompson to the county.

“Son! When you work at the county yamen, speak less and do more. This time, Father has donated money to get you a minor official post. If you do well, you can keep moving up, just like Clerk Young who became a full official. The key is to learn how to deal with people—be sweet-tongued, drop the airs of a scholar, and call everyone who started before you ‘big brother.’ Especially Deputy Thompson, who is a distant relative of our family. Father relied on him this time, so from now on, call him Second Uncle. Remember all this?”

Although Mr. Thompson nagged all the way, the deep care in his tone was just like the love and sincerity of fathers throughout the ages. William Thompson suddenly thought of his silent, reserved father from his previous life, who must still be lost in grief over his son’s death, and his ailing mother. Memories of his past life surged like a tide, and William Thompson felt a wave of sadness. He nodded and said, “Don’t worry, Father! Your son has lived two lives now and won’t act recklessly like before.”

His words greatly comforted Mr. Thompson. Indeed, ever since his son’s brush with death, he really seemed like a different person—no longer nitpicking over everything, and his stubborn, difficult temper had changed. For example, regarding the scholar’s exam, he had long since stopped wanting his son to take it, knowing he wasn’t cut out for study, but he never dared bring it up, as it would always lead to a huge argument. This time, there wasn’t a peep. Maybe it was time to bring up that marriage proposal again.

Unexpectedly, just as Mr. Thompson had this thought, William Thompson, as if reading his mind, said, “But Father, I still want to withdraw from that marriage. I don’t like Second Miss Baker.”

He had been betrothed since childhood to the granddaughter of Old Mr. Baker from Baker Manor. Ten years ago, Eldest Master Baker passed the imperial exam and became an official, reportedly even a prefect. Two years ago, Old Mr. Baker passed away, and the young lady went with her father to another place. She was said to be only fifteen this year, seven years younger than him—a mere little girl. What fun was there in marrying a wife who hadn’t even grown up yet… No, what feelings could there possibly be?

In fact, Mr. Thompson agreed with his son’s reluctance to marry Miss Baker. It wasn’t because she was from an official’s family, but because she was so frail and weak—definitely not the type to bear many sons. He’d rather his son marry a sturdy country girl who could give him lots of grandsons. But his wife was set on marrying into an official’s family, so he had to go along. Mr. Thompson gave a dry laugh and said, “Let’s not talk about this for now! Not for now!”