Samuel Grant became even more uneasy; he wasn’t suspicious by nature, just unable to bear the anxiety. Edward Bennett had no obligation to look after him—throughout his life, every meal and every piece of clothing cost money. If Edward Bennett truly cared, he would have to devote himself wholeheartedly to supporting Yuxiao Ji. Yet Edward Bennett asked what he liked more, without restricting his choices.

　　Even Vera Grant had never spoken to him like that.

　　Samuel Grant carried these thoughts with him all the way home that night. When he returned to the small courtyard, he didn’t go inside, but sat on the porch, leaning against the railing, lost in thought. He didn’t even notice when someone as tall as Henry Bennett walked in.

　　Henry Bennett had snatched Grace Carter’s ice cream, and seeing Samuel Grant in a daze, couldn’t resist pressing the cold container to the back of Samuel Grant’s neck, jolting him back to his senses. He sat down beside him. “You got first place and you’re still not happy?”

　　It was the first time Samuel Grant had been praised by Henry Bennett, and since they were the most familiar with each other, he told Henry Bennett what Edward Bennett had said. Henry Bennett kept eating, not even glancing up or raising an eyebrow. “Moved?”

　　Samuel Grant nodded. Henry Bennett said, “Even if Master Grant and my dad are as close as brothers, even if they’re so close they could share a pair of pants, they’re still not real brothers, and you’re not part of our family.”

　　The truth is hard to hear, which is why most people don’t say it. Samuel Grant wanted to cover Henry Bennett’s mouth.

　　“Don’t get me wrong,” Henry Bennett continued, “This distinction isn’t about fake feelings. My dad can love you like a real son, make sure you never worry about food or clothing for the rest of your life, but he can’t scold you like his own son, and he can’t put the responsibilities of a real son on you.”

　　Samuel Grant seemed to understand, turning to look at Henry Bennett.

　　Henry Bennett, the real son, finished his ice cream and leaned comfortably against the railing, speaking as if about some trivial matter: “My dad’s never asked me what I like more. I can like other things, but nothing can come before the family business. Even if I like something more, in this life, I have to put the family business first.”

　　He turned to look at Samuel Grant too. “My surname is Ding. That’s my responsibility.”

　　For the first time, Samuel Grant observed Henry Bennett’s eyes up close—his pupils were like polished ink, so black and so bright that Samuel Grant slowed his speech: “So how do you feel about it? Are you willing?”

　　Henry Bennett said, “A boy does as he pleases; a man takes responsibility. I’m willing.”

　　But the deepest waves in his heart remained unspoken. Continuing Yuxiao Ji was his responsibility, and he would have to take it on and do it well. But as for the family business—did the descendants really have to stick to the same path just because their ancestors chose it? Why couldn’t he choose for himself?

　　Henry Bennett crushed the ice cream container, temporarily putting his inner conflict to rest.

　　The corridor was left with only Samuel Grant. Henry Bennett’s words echoed in his mind, and after pondering them for a long time, he felt exhausted. He stretched and went to bed. The study door creaked open, and Henry Bennett left a bag of trash at the door, telling him to throw it out in the morning.

　　Samuel Grant didn’t pay much attention. It wasn’t until the next morning that he looked into the bag and saw that it actually contained those fragments of artifacts salvaged from the sea. He’d coveted them for a long time, and now he hurried back to his room to admire them.

　　These items had already been sorted—some of the larger, less damaged pieces had been kept by Henry Bennett, and the rest were all broken and battered. Samuel Grant carefully packed them up, delighted as if he’d found a hidden treasure. When he went out again, he ran into Henry Bennett getting up, and couldn’t even hide his smile in time.

　　Henry Bennett, half-awake, watched as Samuel Grant ran out of the courtyard, disappearing from sight, as if his smiling face was still lingering in the morning glow. Without changing out of his pajamas, he went straight to the machine room, planning to make something while he had free time on the weekend.

　　The whole family got up early; everyone was having breakfast in the front living room. Back in Yangzhou, Samuel Grant’s family was just the three of them, and when his shimu was annoyed with him, he’d eat alone in the kitchen. It was rare for things to be this lively so early in the morning.

　　The porridge was served, and Grace Carter picked out a bowl with extra red beans for Samuel Grant, asking, “Henry isn’t up yet?”

　　Lillian Carter said directly, “Samuel, go call your shige for breakfast. If he won’t get up, pull his ear.”

　　Before Samuel Grant could reply, hurried footsteps sounded from outside. Everyone looked toward the door, and saw Henry Bennett burst in, hair a mess, angrier than a wrathful Buddha.

　　Henry Bennett got straight to the point: “Who touched my furong stone?!”

　　Earl Howard Bennett and Eugene Bennett glanced at Edward Bennett and simultaneously hunched their shoulders defensively. Samuel Grant, holding his red bean porridge, looked fearless, thinking Edward Bennett was the boss, so Henry Bennett would just have to swallow his anger.

　　Edward Bennett sat at the head of the table. “I did.”

　　But the fire on Henry Bennett’s face didn’t diminish in the slightest. “You did? You’ve lived half your life and still can’t tell what grade that material is? That’s naturally formed! It’s top quality!” He was already at the table, slamming his palm on the edge so hard that two youtiao rolled off the plate. “Most importantly, that was my material. I haven’t even had the heart to touch it, and you ruined it for me!”

　　His roar was enough to lift the roof. Samuel Grant was so startled he almost dropped his porridge. Who would have thought Henry Bennett would dare challenge Edward Bennett like that? Edward Bennett didn’t confront him head-on, as if he’d expected this reaction. “Eat first, calm down.”

　　“Calm down my ass!” Who would have thought Henry Bennett would go even further: “That was my treasured piece! You went and hacked at it a few times—do you know what that’s like? It’s like giving my wife a disfiguring scar! What kind of mindset does it take to do something like that?!”