Samuel Howard saw that stubborn look and couldn't help but feel suspicious: Could this kid really have been beaten so badly that he changed his ways? If that's the case, I really shouldn't have been so overprotective before—should've just let him get beaten up earlier.

"Humph!" The old man snorted angrily, his imposing aura suddenly retracting. The two third-rank Manifest Saints behind him, who had been channeling their martial energy to resist the old man's pressure, suddenly found themselves without an opponent and couldn't help but stagger.

On the contrary, Edward Howard, standing in front of Samuel Howard, remained perfectly still, calm and unruffled.

Inside Edward Howard's body, the novice monk's dharma image slowly ceased its Buddhist chanting. The golden mist gathered back from within him, wrapping around the outside of the dharma image, forming a cloud of light.

Last night, Edward Howard hadn't felt anything while sleeping, but now, discovering the wondrous use of the novice monk's dharma image, he was secretly amazed—he hadn't expected it to be so powerful!

"What are you doing at the Military Classics Library!?" Samuel Howard asked sternly, his face dark.

Behind him, Charles Howard let out a sigh of relief, afraid that Grandpa would say nothing and just start beating him up. The second brother's body was frail and had just been injured—he really couldn't take another harsh beating.

Edward Howard gave the old man a slight bow. "I want to borrow some books."

"Borrow books?" The old man showed a hint of a mocking smile. "Don't tell me you're short on money again?"

Edward Howard was helpless. That incident was the original owner's doing, but now he had to take the blame.

"If Grandpa is worried, I can come to the Military Classics Library every day and read right here. Before I leave, you can have the experts guarding this place count the books. Only if the numbers match can I go. But I can't be disturbed while reading."

The old man's upturned mustache trembled. "You really want to read?"

"Yes, I do."

Samuel Howard's face showed no expression, but inwardly he was muttering: This brat wants to read? My second grandson can read? When has this little rascal ever been so motivated? If he really worked this hard, how would he have ended up like this?

Standing there, Edward Howard actually found it hard to figure out what Samuel Howard was thinking. He was worried that the original owner's "grave sins" would make the old man unable to trust him, which would make it difficult to carry out his plans.

Samuel Howard waved his hand. "Fine, we'll do as you say. Remember this: read your books honestly, and don't try any tricks. If anything happens, I'll break your legs!"

"Yes, sir." Edward Howard was secretly delighted and answered obediently with a bow. He still felt some resistance to his identity and couldn't bring himself to call him Grandpa or refer to himself as grandson.

"Thomas Howard!" Samuel Howard shouted. One of the four third-rank Manifest Saints who had been guarding the Military Classics Library stepped forward, cupped his fists, and said, "At your command!"

"From now on, keep a close eye on this little brat for me."

"Yes, sir!"

After making arrangements, Samuel Howard snorted, flicked his sleeve, and left. The moment he turned to go out the door, a strange sense of joy surfaced in Samuel Howard's heart: Could this brat really be improving?

Edward Howard, this prodigal second-generation, was truly a headache for the The Howard Family. In the past, Samuel Howard had tried countless ways to get him back on track, but the little rascal just wouldn't learn, always hanging out with a bunch of bad friends, getting egged on, causing minor trouble every three days and major trouble every five. After years of this, Old Master Howard had given up hope.

Although he no longer cared about his second grandson, the third generation of the The Howard Family now only had three children in total, always facing the risk of having no heirs. How could he really not care about his grandson? Even if he was completely disappointed, he still held onto a sliver of hope that one day his grandson would truly turn over a new leaf.

Now this kid actually wanted to read books—this was definitely a good start. On the surface, the old man kept a stern face, but in reality, hope had been rekindled in his heart.

……

Edward Howard saw Grace Howard snort coldly from a distance, completely ignoring her brother. She twisted her slender waist and walked away briskly. He could only shake his head and smile wryly—he still remembered why this "little sister" was so unfriendly to the original owner.

His sister had saved up for years to buy a Dirong dragon colt, which she adored, but he had secretly taken it out and slaughtered it. Then, together with a group of bad friends, he had a grand horse meat barbecue feast by the Angry Water River outside Wudu City!

On the northern Dirong grasslands, the finest steeds on the Qingyuan Continent are bred. His little sister, who had always preferred armor to dresses, had dreamed of owning such a dragon colt.

But although the Great Xia Dynasty had friendly relations with the surrounding four countries—Canglan, Chuyue, Hesang, and Hualang—only with the northern Dirong were they mortal enemies. There was no trade between them, so Dirong dragon colts were already expensive, and with no trade, they were extremely rare. His little sister had only managed to buy one because she was the beloved granddaughter of Old General Howard, and yet he had eaten it!

No wonder the little girl hated him.

Charles Howard came forward and patted him on the shoulder with some relief. "Second brother, keep it up. As long as you're willing to improve, the whole The Howard Family will support you!"

Edward Howard was a little moved. His big brother always seemed so kind, willing to believe in him no matter how many times he'd been deceived.

Chapter 3: Passing on the Family Line (Part 1)