Hitting people...

　　Who wants to hit people...

　　James Bolton was startled when he heard that Edward Smith wanted to hit someone. He hurriedly held the azalea flowers, looking like a frightened little deer.

　　Actually, Edward Smith really wronged James Bolton. James Bolton wasn't just looking for food. While others were setting traps, what he was best at was supervising. After all, he came from a project management background, working in earthworks and engineering—giving orders was what he did best.

　　He munched on azalea flowers while overseeing every trap being set, pointing and directing the whole time.

　　Meanwhile, he found a few people to set up tents in a more hidden spot farther away.

　　This was going to be a long battle. I, James Bolton, am going to wait for the rabbit by the tree and go all out against you, William Carter.

　　After all the busy work, everyone was panting for breath, but James Bolton had already dug a simple stove with someone and started a fire to cook.

　　He was thoroughly familiar with the terrain nearby and knew that if William Carter came, he would definitely have to pass through a small path.

　　Of course, seeing the worried faces of Edward Smith and Henry Cooper from time to time, James Bolton could truly empathize.

　　Charles Bolton had been imprisoned, his fate unknown.

　　And the future prospects of the three brothers also seemed to be hanging by a thread.

　　No wonder, after coming to ancient times, some people would want to become a live-in son-in-law.

　　If heaven gave me a chance to be a live-in son-in-law, maybe I’d want to try it too.

　　As soon as this thought popped up, the desire in his heart opened up like Pandora’s box.

　　It’s not that James Bolton lacked ambition, but as a modern person coming to ancient times, with no one to rely on, he had to shoulder everything himself if something happened. Out here in the wilderness, eating millet porridge, exposed to the elements—it was truly miserable.

　　That night, when it was time to sleep, he couldn’t fall asleep at all in this desolate wilderness. The small makeshift tent... couldn’t keep out the chilly night wind.

　　James Bolton looked through the tarp at the bright moon in the sky that couldn’t be blocked out. The moon was like a hook, resembling the smiling face of some young lady.

　　After falling asleep, when he woke up, he found himself so useless—he had actually dreamed of happily going to the Marquis of Nanhe’s mansion to become a live-in son-in-law.

　　Several days passed, and Edward Smith was already getting impatient.

　　Actually, even James Bolton himself was feeling uneasy. He was gradually realizing that waiting here like a sitting duck wasn’t a solution.

　　But just that evening—

　　Suddenly, a firelight appeared in the distant woods.

　　Henry Cooper was the first to notice. He carefully identified it, then hurriedly shook the sleeping James Bolton awake, whispering, “Someone’s coming, someone’s coming...”

　　James Bolton rolled over and sat up, a sudden, inexplicable panic rising in his heart.

　　Even though he had a whole plan in his mind, when it came to the real situation, James Bolton's instinct was to run.

　　He noticed that the temp worker lying next to him was also trembling—this guy was probably scared too.

　　Damn.

　　What a ragtag bunch!

　　Before coming, James Bolton had been optimistic.

　　But when it really came down to it, he realized he’d been too reckless—like, how strong was the enemy, how many people were coming, and whether they were alert enough.

　　Any one of these issues could lead to disaster.

　　Edward Smith, lying beside James Bolton, actually seemed calm. He felt James Bolton's body trembling, then looked over with a strange expression.

　　He hadn’t expected... there would really be people here? How did James know William Carter would come here?

　　But then, seeing James Bolton's uneasiness, Edward Smith's eyes showed a bit of contempt.

　　Coward!

　　Fortunately, in this chain of contempt, James Bolton wasn’t at the very bottom.

　　Because James Bolton was also looking down on the little lackeys he’d brought along.

　　Fear is only human, after all—everyone has parents. These so-called temp workers of the Jinyiwei were just a bunch of starving wretches, only good for eating.

　　No one moved.

　　Soon, the torches got closer and closer.

　　There were probably three or four people.

　　He guessed right.

　　James Bolton's heart was about to leap out of his chest.

　　His guess was indeed correct. Although William Carter had many followers, when it came to hiding his treasure, he would definitely only choose his most trusted men.

　　Under the torchlight, two people were panting as they carried a chest.

　　Bringing up the rear was a burly man. He clearly hadn’t sensed any danger. In the firelight, his stern face exuded an intimidating authority.

　　That’s him!

　　James Bolton took a deep breath.

　　But just then, one of the two lackeys carrying the treasure seemed to miss a step. In the still darkness, someone suddenly cried out, and both the man and the chest tumbled down.

　　As he fell, the man clung tightly to the chest’s handle, dragging the other man down with him.

　　So, both of them fell in, and their wails soon followed.

　　The burly man saw this and immediately became tense, hurriedly reaching for the knife at his waist and shouting, “Who’s there?”

　　There was no sound in the darkness.

　　The Jinyiwei were all clearly petrified.

　　But at that moment, someone shouted, “Edward Smith is here...”

　　The shout made James Bolton's eardrums ache.

　　In a flash, Edward Smith leapt out with his knife.