What kind of spoiled rich kids? Compared to this, they can only kneel and lick, right? The genuine Grandpa Walker.

　　“Grandpa, let’s go home!”

　　To say such words in public was too embarrassing for him. John Thompson decided from now on to turn over a new leaf and become a better person.

　　If it were anyone else, those young men lingering at the shop entrance, hoping to win the beauty’s favor, would have jumped out like agitated little roosters to uphold justice. But the moment they saw David West, who was known for settling things with his fists and rumored to have once been a crime boss, they immediately chickened out.

　　Never mind his wealth—just those fierce henchmen behind him were enough to teach these so-called knights what nine years of compulsory education really means.

　　These cowards made a quick getaway, afraid that if they were even a step too slow, they’d lose a leg or an arm.

　　“Pah! Lecher!”

　　Hearing the words between the father and son, the pretty-faced tofu seller blushed as if she’d smeared rouge on her cheeks, spat in disgust, and immediately shut the shop door tight, not leaving even a crack for the pair.

　　“Hahaha!”

　　David Thompson let out a wild, unrestrained laugh. The notorious big shot of Xiyan Town wasn’t famous for nothing—even the county magistrate had to treat him with respect. Bullying a young widow was a piece of cake for him.

　　As for reputation? Can you eat that, or use it as money? Which fool would dare say a word more—he’d shut them up for good.

　　Tap tap tap—a flurry of hoofbeats echoed on the stone-paved street.

　　An old soldier, riding an old horse, charged from one end of the street to the other. The henchmen following The Thompson Father and Son quickly made way, letting the man and horse rush past without slowing down.

　　If you got hit or scraped, the master might pay for your medicine, but suffering for no reason was just too unfair.

　　“The bandit Old Knife has broken through Heifeng Pass and is heading for Xiyan Town! At least a thousand men and horses…”

　　Wearing battered old armor of unknown age, with a small black triangular flag strapped to his back, the old soldier shouted hoarsely at the top of his lungs.

　　……

Chapter 3: Little Mother

　　Whether it was the Thompson's Henchman, the The Thompson Father and Son, the passersby, or the shopkeepers by the street, all their faces changed instantly.

　　A thousand bandits?

　　Wasn’t Xiyan Town, which wasn’t even a border garrison, about to face total disaster?

　　In an instant, the entire street was deserted. All the shops put up their boards and shut their doors. The whole county fell into chaos.

　　Although Xiyan Town was located near a major trade route at the border between the Dawu Dynasty and Xiyan Kingdom, there were always those who grew greedy for wealth and goods, and some who loved to kill and plunder with blood on their blades.

　　Old Knife was a notorious villain who roamed the trade routes between Fengxuan Kingdom and the Dawu Dynasty, able to silence crying children with his name alone. He commanded at least three to five hundred desperate men with blood on their hands. Both countries had sent troops to hunt him down, but he always managed to escape. This time, for some reason, he’d gathered over a thousand fierce bandits for a big job, and was now targeting Xiyan Town near the Dawu border.

　　David Thompson’s face shifted between dark and light. He said, “Let’s go, home first!”

　　“Okay!”

　　Just as the ignorant know no fear, John Thompson didn’t feel much dread toward these desperate bandits.

　　If the sky falls, there are taller people to hold it up—there’s the government, there are border troops. Ordinary folks don’t need to throw their lives away. At worst, just pack up and run.

　　The household servants and tenants gathered around David Thompson and John Thompson, no longer strutting about, and immediately headed home.

　　The tenants who had received their reward dispersed to take their children and wives home to hide from the bandits. The The Thompson Mansion instantly became a hive of activity.

　　The maids and servants bustled around John Thompson, constantly moving valuables and goods onto the ox carts outside the mansion. With the The Thompson Family Fortune, they needed at least thirty or forty large carts. Just the copper coins alone filled five carts. The head steward George Thompson and his brother, the second steward Charles Thompson, were running back and forth, sweating profusely as they worked.

　　Just because the The Thompson Family was rich and powerful didn’t mean they could fight and kill. When bandits came, they had to run like everyone else.

　　For Classmate John, bandits felt like a distant threat. He didn’t even know how to react. With his slow nature, maybe only when the blade was at his neck would he finally be surprised and think, “Am I really being killed by a knife?”

　　Even now, he hadn’t fully adapted to his new identity as Third Young Master Thompson.

　　As the young master of the The Thompson Family, John Thompson naturally didn’t need to carry anything himself. He leaned alone against the moon gate of the inner courtyard, staring blankly at the palm of his right hand. In his ears echoed the clear reading voice of his second brother William Thompson, known in town as a bookworm, as if the coming disaster had nothing to do with him. The second young master just kept reading his classics as usual.

　　John Thompson was sure that before he boarded the little boat of the The White Father and Daughter, the black lotus outlined in simple lines hadn’t appeared in his palm. It was only when the monk with the Dharma name Grant chanted scriptures again that, along with a strange burning sensation, it suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

　　In fact, the strange events didn’t stop there. No one knew that deep inside John Thompson’s heart, a mysterious seed had appeared. It couldn’t be seen or touched, but he could feel it—like a lotus seed.

　　And there was also a sword’s hum, which he wasn’t sure was real or just his imagination.