So George Lambert had only heard of him by name, never having the chance to interact.

“They—why would they do such a thing? Even if some shop offended them, surely the entire Linmen Street couldn’t have made enemies of them?” he continued to ask.

“That’s not something you need to know, not even I know.” Henry Howard shook his head and said, “You just need to remember, if we want peace in the southern city, we have to give the Longya Gang some respect.”

He pointed upward with his hand again. “They have connections all the way to the top.”

……

The arson case was solved, so there was no need for extra patrols at night. George Lambert was able to finish work early and head home.

As he passed Linmen Street, the shopkeepers along the road greeted him warmly: “Walter Lambert! Heading home?”

“Want to stop in for a bowl of wontons?”

The elderly couple at the tavern were even more enthusiastic: “Come eat at our place tomorrow, it’s on me.”

“……”

Fukang Lane wasn’t big, and the news that George Lambert had caught the arsonist spread throughout the neighborhood in just one evening. Before, everyone saw him as just an unfamiliar young constable, at most wary of his official uniform. Now, he was someone who had actually done something for them, so their attitude naturally changed, and their tone became much friendlier.

Still, George Lambert felt a twinge of guilt—since the real culprit couldn’t be punished, the people of Linmen Street weren’t truly safe.

But that was beyond his ability to handle; he couldn’t just force his way into it.

Fortunately, by a twist of fate, he had made a great contribution today, so there was hope for his promotion, and his mood was good. Passing by the pastry shop, he bought two jin of date cakes—his younger siblings loved them.

His home was in Ping’an Alley, a few streets away from the station—not far, and he was back in no time. As soon as he entered the alley, he heard a loud, piercing female soprano.

“You beast, deserving a thousand cuts! Carrying two dung balls for eyes, do you even know whose doorstep this is? My The Lambert Family is a family of loyal martyrs! How dare you act so brazenly…”

“Come any closer and I’ll ruin you!”

“Weren’t you barking just now? Come back here, just one step, and see if I don’t chop off your dog legs for the pot!”

“……”

The voice was so shrill that it cleared the street—neighbors shut their doors and windows in quick succession, afraid to get caught up in the commotion.

George Lambert hurried back to his doorstep.

There he saw a sturdy woman standing in front of his house. Her skin was delicate, showing that she must have been a beauty in her youth, but the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the graying roots of her hair revealed the hardships of the years.

It was none other than George Lambert’s mother, Sarah Thompson.

The one person in all of Ping’an Alley that no one dared to cross.

“Mother, mother…” George Lambert quickly stepped forward to pull her back. “What’s going on now? Who’s upset you this time?”

“No one upset me,” Sarah Thompson said angrily, still glaring stubbornly toward the other end of the alley.

“Then who were you yelling at?” George Lambert asked.

“At a dog,” Sarah Thompson replied.

“Huh?” George Lambert was stunned. His mother was arguing with a dog now?

“We’re a family of loyal martyrs—our doorstep must be spotless! That beast actually dared to pee at our door. Scolding it is letting it off easy!” Sarah Thompson was still fuming. “If I ever catch it, I’ll have it neutered on the spot!”

“Yes, yes!” George Lambert hurriedly ushered her back inside. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“Emily and Peter are both back, just waiting for you.” Hearing this, Sarah Thompson put her hands on her hips and went back inside.

The The Lambert Family’s siheyuan had five or six small rooms, and the kitchen already had food prepared: two plates of stir-fried vegetables and a bowl of light soup.

In the early years, Sarah Thompson had supported three children by mending clothes for others, and the The Lambert Family had long been poor. After George Lambert started working, there was an extra income, so things had improved a little, but they were still just scraping by.

That was also one of the main reasons he was so eager for a promotion—if he became a full constable, the The Lambert Family’s situation would get better.

Life was still frugal, but the family atmosphere was good.

At the table, a boy and a girl, both teenagers, were already seated.

His younger sister Emily Lambert wore a pink and white gauze dress, her hair gently tied up, her bare face with delicate brows and almond-shaped eyes, looking slender and elegant. Her shoulders and neck were as fair as fine porcelain, her waistline smooth and graceful.

She was at the age of growing up, tall but still thin, sitting there with a fresh and pure air, like a newly sprouted white flower.

His younger brother Peter Lambert resembled Emily by about thirty percent—fair as jade, with handsome features, also a bit thin, a gentle and refined young man.

The two of them were twins, both sixteen this year, so it was natural they looked alike.

Only George Lambert, born two years earlier, had thick brows and big eyes, his features quite different from his siblings.

What they all had in common was a gentle look—each of them seemed harmless and kind. The neighbors in the alley often said it was remarkable that someone as fierce as Sarah Thompson could raise three such mild-mannered children.

When Peter Lambert saw George Lambert, he quietly made a “three” gesture with his fingers. George Lambert understood at once, nodded slightly, and sat down without a word.