George Washington nodded, pondered for a moment, then asked, “How many days will this journey take?”

William Grant quickly calculated the time in his mind and said, “At most a month, at least half a month.”

George Washington frowned deeply, speaking with concern, “But your portrait is still out there. This trip is dangerous. How about this: I’ll go with you, and I can help cover for you!”

“Absolutely not!” William Grant was startled. He hurriedly waved his hand and said, “If I go alone, I have no attachments. Even if I encounter enemies, I’m confident I can come and go freely.”

If he brought George Washington along to Lantian County and they ran into government pursuers, he’d have to split his attention to protect George Washington, and then neither of them would be able to escape.

George Washington understood that, with his current abilities, following William Grant would only be a burden. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about letting William Grant venture to Lantian County alone.

William Grant smiled and said, “Rest assured, my lord, I am already prepared.”

As he spoke, William Grant untied the cloth band wrapped around his head and took it off. George Washington looked closely, and his eyes widened in surprise.

Chapter Five: Another Encounter with Danger

On William Grant’s temple, there had originally been a conspicuous slanted scar—his most distinctive facial feature. Now, a new scar crossed the old one, forming an ‘X’ shape.

George Washington instinctively asked, “When did you add another scar to your head?” He remembered that when he had just rescued William Grant, there hadn’t been this new scar.

William Grant replied solemnly, “My lord saved my life. I must not implicate you. Adding this scar helps me better conceal my identity.”

George Washington secretly admired him—William Grant was truly meticulous! Even so, he couldn’t help but remind him again and again, “This trip is dangerous, Zhongbo, you must be extra careful.”

William Grant cupped his hands and bowed deeply, moved, “It is my fault to make my lord worry so much.”

George Washington supported his arm to help him up, then asked, “You’ve always taught me to practice with the axe. Does that mean I’ll have to use an axe as my weapon from now on?”

He really didn’t want to fight people with an axe. His idol was a great hero like Jing Ke, and his ideal weapon was, of course, the sword.

William Grant said, “The axe is heavy. Practicing with it is good for building arm strength. Once you’ve mastered the axe, you can switch to sabers or swords. When you can easily cut through trees with a saber or sword—” At this, he smiled, drew a dagger from his lower back, and handed it to George Washington, saying, “Then you can switch to the dagger.”

George Washington exclaimed in surprise, “A dagger can cut through trees too?”

William Grant replied seriously, “With enough force, even a blade of grass can injure.”

George Washington sighed and said, “I’m afraid even Jing Ke back then couldn’t injure with a blade of grass, could he?”

William Grant only smiled and said nothing.

After breakfast, William Grant bid farewell to George Washington and set off for Lantian County to look for Thomas Grant and Samuel Grant.

George Washington stayed at his old home in Chongling. His life hardly changed—still farming, still practicing martial arts. His days were simple yet fulfilling.

That noon, after finishing his farm work, George Washington was about to head home for lunch. He hadn’t gone far when two men approached from the opposite direction.

Both were around thirty, of average build, with unremarkable looks. Their clothes were rather shabby—rough cloth shirts and hemp pants, patched in many places. Who knew how long it had been since they’d last washed; they were so dirty they almost shone.

There were many refugees these days, so George Washington didn’t pay them much attention. Just as they were about to pass each other, one of the men suddenly called out, “George Washington!”

Hearing his name called out so directly, George Washington was taken aback. He instinctively stopped and asked, “Do we know each other?”

The two men exchanged a glance, then looked at George Washington with deep, penetrating eyes. One of them gave a fake smile and said, “We heard you have a lot of grain and often sell it at the market. The two of us haven’t had a decent meal in days. George Washington, how about sharing some of your grain with us?”

George Washington almost burst out laughing on the spot—out of exasperation. He’d seen shameless people before, but never anyone quite this brazen.

He said, “I do have some grain at home, but it’s barely enough for my own use. I don’t have any extra to give away.”

Hearing George Washington’s flat refusal, both men’s faces darkened. The one who spoke raised his eyebrows and asked, “So you’re just going to watch us starve to death?”

George Washington frowned and said, “You’re both young and strong, with hands and feet. Whether you work long-term or short-term, even if you can’t eat your fill, you shouldn’t starve to death!”

As he spoke, he shook his head, feeling these two were simply unreasonable, and didn’t want to waste any more words. He tried to walk on.

A cold glint flashed in the eyes of the man who had spoken. Suddenly, his right hand swept behind him, and a gleaming dagger appeared in his palm. He silently and viciously stabbed it toward George Washington’s back.

But George Washington was not unprepared. Sensing the ill intent behind him, he immediately realized something was wrong and leapt sideways.

Shhh! The dagger’s blade swept past his ribs, slicing a gash in the side of his shirt.