Back when George Washington was still hesitating about whether to rebel, he suddenly dreamed one night of his father Abraham Lincoln, who handed him a large jade tablet. The very next day, William Monroe was born, which finally solidified George Washington's resolve to rebel.

William Monroe was intelligent and eager to learn from a young age, and was especially favored by George Washington, who kept him close and personally raised him. Whether inspecting Beijing or leading troops to the northern deserts, William Monroe was always by his side.

In fact, the reason James Madison was made crown prince was because of Matthew Reed's remark, “What a holy grandson,” which made George Washington finally make up his mind. Of course, Matthew Reed also offended Thomas Jefferson with this comment and ultimately died a miserable death in the imperial prison.

“Just producing a relic by cremation doesn’t prove the heir is exceptionally talented and knowledgeable. Maybe he just found out about it by accident.”

David Foster did not agree with Samuel Carter's assessment.

“No, I was observing the heir’s words and actions all day yesterday. Although it wasn’t for long, I could sense that the secret of the relic seemed trivial to him. He must have even more secrets…”

Before Samuel Carter could finish, a monk suddenly hurried in and whispered a few words in his ear.

Samuel Carter's expression changed immediately, and he ordered, “Quick, bring him in!”

The monk responded and quickly left.

David Foster was curious, but he knew Samuel Carter had many state affairs to handle and that some matters were not suitable for outsiders to know, so he was about to get up and leave. However, Samuel Carter called out to David Foster, “Jingsi, you don’t need to leave. I’ll need your help in a moment!”

Hearing this, David Foster sat down again, even more curious.

Soon, there was a commotion of footsteps outside, and several soldiers carried in a soft sedan chair. Lying on it was a burly man with an unusually long face and striking features.

When David Foster saw who it was, his eyes widened in surprise: “Commander Cooper! He’s not dead?”

It was Brian Cooper. A few days ago, during a standoff between two armies that caused a citywide uproar, everyone knew that Brian Cooper had been run through with a spear by Thomas Jefferson, so David Foster thought he was already dead.

“He’s not dead, but he’s probably not far from it!”

Samuel Carter sighed and stepped forward to check Brian Cooper's pulse himself.

Only then did David Foster notice that Brian Cooper's face was flushed, his lips pale, and his breathing labored as if he had a high fever. His eyes were tightly shut in a coma, and he reeked of medicine and blood.

Samuel Carter took Brian Cooper's pulse, then lifted the blanket covering him. A stench of medicine mixed with rot immediately filled the air.

David Foster now saw that Brian Cooper had a hideous wound under his arm. Although medicine had been applied, the area around the wound was already blackened, with blackish-purple pus and blood oozing out.

“The wound is festering—he’s as good as dead!”

David Foster sighed at the sight of Brian Cooper's injury.

What they called “festering” was actually what later generations would call wound infection. In this era, there were no antibiotics and poor hygiene, so the mortality rate from infected wounds was extremely high. For example, after a battle, most soldiers didn’t die on the battlefield but from infections after being wounded.

“Actually, it was the heir who saved his life. Otherwise, he would have died at the hands of the Prince of Han that day.”

Samuel Carter carefully examined the wound and then frowned.

“How so?” asked David Foster, puzzled.

“The Prince of Han has a habit: whenever his spear pierces an enemy, he twists it, turning a minor wound into a major one, and a major wound into instant death. But Commander Cooper's wound shows no sign of twisting, so I think the heir woke up and the Prince of Han didn’t have time to twist the spear.”

Samuel Carter explained, pointing at the wound. He had watched Thomas Jefferson grow up and was very familiar with his habits.

“But even so, Commander Cooper is still gravely wounded and near death.”

David Foster sighed again. Although he wasn’t close to Brian Cooper, they were both old hands in the Prince of Yan’s household and knew each other well. He hadn’t expected Brian Cooper to survive the battlefield of the Jingnan campaign, only to fall at the hands of the Prince of Han.

“Yes, the crown prince sent the best imperial physicians to treat Commander Cooper, and the medicine was correct, but the wound still festered and the fever wouldn’t break. That’s why the crown prince sent him to the temple. But I don’t have any good solutions either—just do what we can and leave the rest to fate!”

Samuel Carter shook his head, ordered a silver knife to be brought, and then cut open Brian Cooper's wound to drain the pus and remove the necrotic flesh.

The excruciating pain from the debridement made Brian Cooper groan a few times, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Grand Preceptor, Foster... Deputy Foster, I’m still alive?”

Brian Cooper's dull eyes looked around for a while before recognizing Samuel Carter and the others.

“Don’t worry, I’ve cleaned your wound. Once we apply the medicine, you’ll recover soon.”

Samuel Carter smiled and told a well-meaning lie.

Hearing Samuel Carter's words, Brian Cooper perked up, and his eyes regained some brightness.

Then Brian Cooper looked at David Foster beside him, took a few breaths, and asked again, “Deputy Foster, I heard that people with long faces live longer—is... is that true?”

David Foster was speechless. If having a long face meant longevity, wouldn’t donkeys and horses live forever?