“It’s Henry Clark!”

Someone cried out in surprise.

Edward Clark and his wife exchanged a glance; a flash of disappointment quickly disappeared from their faces.

“Henry Clark has taken down the tiger!” someone shouted excitedly.

A gleam of excitement burst from Edward Clark and his wife’s eyes as they rushed out together.

“We’re rich!”

The whole Edward Clark family gathered around the tiger, pushing Henry Clark to the outside.

He was terribly hungry, and his gaze swept over to his mother, The Thompson Family.

“Eldest and second son’s marriages are settled now.”

The Thompson Family clapped her hands in wild joy.

Henry Clark slowly entered the kitchen, found a piece of dry flatbread, and squatted by the stove, leaning against it, gnawing on the bread with the help of the lingering warmth from the ashes.

The cold wind blew in from outside, but his body didn’t move a bit.

Warm air drifted from behind him like threads, but in front of him it was as cold as frost.

Just like the world.

“Third son!”

The woman who had spoken up for him came in. Seeing him squatting and gnawing on dry bread, she sighed, “You must be starving, right? Why didn’t you roast some game on the mountain to eat?”

Henry Clark looked up and smiled, “I’m young, I’m not afraid of hunger.”

Outside, Edward Clark’s voice rang out, “There’s only one arrow wound on this tiger skin—it’ll fetch a good price. The magistrate promised us a reward. The fourth son is only nine; later we’ll ask the magistrate to let him study. The Yang family will finally have a scholar.”

The Thompson Family’s voice was full of pride. “If we’d delayed even half a day, the tiger’s haunch would have spoiled. Hurry and cut it open, send it to the magistrate.”

“You endured hunger and rushed back just so the tiger’s haunch would be fresh?” The woman looked at Henry Clark, her lips moving, “Don’t be angry at your parents…”

Henry Clark replied calmly, “I’m not angry.”

The dry bread stuck in his throat; Henry Clark picked up a ladle and drank some water to swallow it down.

The icy well water chilled him all the way down his throat.

The woman tried to comfort him for a while, then finally sighed and left.

After eating the bread, Henry Clark went to the backyard to wash up.

Splash!

A basin of water poured over his head, and Henry Clark’s somewhat thin body turned slightly red.

He unconsciously rubbed the top of his thigh, where there was a birthmark he’d had since childhood, shaped like a bird. People in the village would joke about it without restraint; whenever birds were mentioned, both men and women would have an indescribably strange smile, making the boy embarrassed to admit he had a bird-shaped birthmark.

Higher up, on his thin chest and abdomen, there were more than a dozen scars. The deepest one ran diagonally from his left chest to his right lower abdomen—a deep mark left by a leopard playing dead when he was eleven. He’d nursed himself in the mountains for over ten days, and luckily, the martial arts he’d practiced since childhood helped him survive.

That martial art was given to him by Charles Clark, who said it would let him live to a hundred.

Charles Clark…

Henry Clark’s eyes dimmed.

For as long as he could remember, Charles Clark would appear in his room at night from time to time, quietly taking him outside the village to teach him reading, cultivation, and weapons.

He didn’t know what Charles Clark was to him, and Charles Clark wouldn’t say. When he was five, Charles Clark told him to ask Edward Clark and his wife if he could study. But Edward Clark and The Thompson Family scolded him, and the matter was dropped. In the end, it was Charles Clark who taught him.

This left Henry Clark confused; he even felt that Charles Clark was his real father, but Charles Clark wouldn’t even let him call him uncle.

Five years later, when he was ten, Charles Clark suddenly disappeared, cutting off all of Henry Clark’s guesses.

“Thinking about women?”

Suddenly, a burly, thick-browed, big-eyed middle-aged man appeared in front of him, his expression as cold as the wind atop Mount Dongyu.

“Charles Clark!” Henry Clark cried out in joy, stepping forward, then instinctively reaching for his clothes.

Charles Clark’s gaze swept over the scars on his chest and abdomen, the coldness between his brows growing even stronger.

“Who did this?”

A sudden murderous aura erupted. Charles Clark’s clothes billowed without wind, the window lattice across from him rattled, and the door trembled slightly.

The window lattice suddenly shattered, fragments falling silently to the ground.

Henry Clark looked down at his chest and abdomen. He knew Charles Clark’s skills were impressive, probably on par with the county’s chief constable; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to silently leap over the Yang family’s fence with him.

“Just an accident.”

Noise rose again at the front door. Edward Clark and The Thompson Family were talking about the eldest and second sons’ marriages, and how the fourth son would surely go to Chang’an for the imperial exams and become a scholar…

But in all their plans, there was no place for Henry Clark.

“How have you lived these five years?” Hearing the conversation outside, Charles Clark realized that in the five years he’d been gone, the boy before him must have suffered a lot.

Henry Clark wanted to talk about his experiences over the years. He glanced at the well, where a deep groove had been worn by the rope. Every time he saw that groove, he felt warmth. When he was six and sick, Charles Clark happened to be away. The doctor said he needed a hot bath. In a daze, he heard Edward Clark drawing water in the backyard, and The Thompson Family cursing at Yang Dalang to light the fire… That urgent voice made him feel a peace he’d never known. Drying his hair, he said calmly, “I just got by.”

What is this child hiding? Charles Clark hesitated for a moment. “You’re not their child.”

Henry Clark, who was putting on his clothes, froze for a moment. “Have you been drinking? I’ll go make you some hot tea, but the leaves are coarse and there aren’t any spices—don’t mind it.”