Little Samuel was overjoyed. He certainly knew that this palace maid before him, being able to handle such an important matter for her mistress, was bound to be favored—her rise was as certain as nails hammered into wood. In the future, she might even receive greater promotions, and with such a powerful backer, he would truly prosper. Thump, thump, thump—he immediately kowtowed three times. “This servant lost his parents at a young age and has only a younger brother to rely on. Now I finally have a fairy-like elder sister—truly, Heaven is looking out for me.” At this point, he was genuinely moved, sniffling and tearing up, looking every bit the part.

　　Emily Clark was both exasperated and amused, stopping him from continuing with a shout: “Are you looking for trouble? Do you know where you are? If you want to get sentimental, pick another place. If you startle the mistress, can you afford the consequences? Enough, tomorrow’s matter won’t be easy to handle either. Tell me again everything you know.”

　　Under the night sky, a young eunuch stood respectfully to the side, recounting every detail to a palace maid about all the things to watch out for. Tomorrow’s matter concerned the lives and deaths of many; the arrow was already nocked and had to be released.

　　Early the next morning, Mr. Foster as usual packed a bowl of plain porridge and a few small dishes into a food box. Samuel Clark’s diet was very simple. After these past days, he no longer felt the initial anxiety—this immortal, whom even the emperor treated with deference, had lost much of his original mystique. Seeing Little Samuel, who was usually in charge of delivering meals, walk in with his head lowered, he couldn’t help but scold with a laugh, “You little rascal, why are you so late? If the emperor finds out, he’ll have your hide!” He casually pointed at the food box on the table. “Hurry up and deliver it. If it gets cold and the master blames you, I won’t be able to protect you!”

　　Ethan Foster mumbled a response and picked up the food box to leave. Mr. Foster was momentarily taken aback—this young eunuch was usually very clever and talkative, but today he was silent. Still, remembering he had to prepare breakfast for many of the imperial consorts, he set aside his doubts. What did it matter to him if a little eunuch was quiet or not? Spitting lightly, he turned and started shouting orders at the cooks of the Imperial Kitchen.

　　Ethan Foster felt cold sweat break out on his back. It was easy to plan, but hard to execute—he finally understood the pressure. If Mr. Foster had noticed even the slightest flaw just now, this impersonation would have been exposed immediately. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he carried the food box and hurried forward.

　　Early in the morning, there weren’t many people moving about in the palace. The palace maids and eunuchs of each hall were busy attending to their own masters’ washing and dressing, so the corridors were nearly empty. Ethan Foster’s disguise had been done with the help of Dr. Brooks. His build was similar to Little Samuel, so the disguise wasn’t difficult, and with a rough makeup job, he looked about seventy percent similar. The only thing he couldn’t imitate was the eunuch’s duck-like voice, but he figured few people would bother greeting an insignificant young eunuch, so it probably wouldn’t be too hard to get by.

　　But things didn’t go as smoothly as he’d imagined. The position Little Samuel held was coveted by many in the palace, and sure enough, a sharp-eyed young eunuch in blue set his sights on him. Ethan Foster suddenly felt a hand clap his shoulder, startling him. “Little Samuel, you’ve been doing well lately. When are you going to look after your brother here?” came a sinister voice from behind. “You’re eating—shouldn’t you share some porridge with me?”

　　What met Ethan Foster’s eyes was a face with a fake smile, the jealousy and hostility in his gaze unmistakable. Forcing himself to stay calm, Ethan Foster replied in a low voice, “Brother, this is an errand from above. If I’m any later, I’ll be in trouble. How about this—after I’m done, I’ll treat you to a drink. Please let me off this time!”

　　The blue-robed eunuch was surprised to find that the usually sharp-tongued Little Samuel had changed his tune, but since he was getting a benefit, he didn’t think much of it. He gave Ethan Foster a hard slap on the shoulder and laughed, “At least you know what’s good for you. I won’t mess with you today!” With that, he swaggered off in the opposite direction.

　　Ethan Foster let out a long sigh of relief—another hurdle cleared. It seemed he did have some talent for deception, he thought with a wry smile. Glancing at the sun, he hurried his pace. If he missed the appointed time, things would get complicated. What he didn’t know was that his response to that young eunuch would soon bring real trouble to the real Little Samuel.

　　Samuel Clark’s temporary residence in the palace was a side hall of the Hall of Diligent Governance. The emperor did not stay there at night, so at this time, the hall was essentially his alone. Fifty imperial guards personally appointed by the emperor took turns guarding the place—one could say not even a fly could get in. Now, Ethan Foster had to find a way to enter this forbidden area of the palace.

　　Ethan Foster walked up to the on-duty guard, James Harris, and handed over his waist token and the food box with his head lowered. James Harris glanced at him carelessly, then began to inspect the food box. He’d seen this young eunuch a dozen times already, so there shouldn’t be any problem, but he still had to check for any hidden messages. Carefully, he picked up a special pair of silver chopsticks and stirred the porridge, then poked through the side dishes. Only then did James Harris wave his hand in satisfaction. “Go in. Serve carefully—if the master is displeased, you’ll be the one to suffer.”