Abraham Lincoln, since ascending the throne in the second year of Jingkang, has seen Lin’an become a metropolis of over a million people, its prosperity and elegance beyond words. The rapid development of industry and commerce not only absorbed a large number of people who had farmed for generations, but also provided a solution to the increasingly serious problem of land annexation. For example, just one copper-lead mine in Yanshan, Xinzhou, often employed more than a hundred thousand miners, working day and night. More importantly, this greatly promoted the rapid advancement of the social economy and productivity. The Song dynasty’s developed economy, its strong economic power, and the new classes and ideas born from this prosperity all foretold that a qualitative change in society was approaching.

“Lin’an is at least a hundred times more prosperous than our Lintao. When I’ve saved enough money, I’ll definitely come to Lin’an to spend the rest of my life, Brother Thompson! Look at those acrobats, and over there—Brother Thompson, look at those selling porcelain and seafood. If we brought these things back to Lintao, they could fetch a huge price.”

“With your skills, I’m afraid you’d be robbed before you got halfway there.”

“That’s true! Only someone with the master’s wealth could make the journey safely. Small business just won’t do.”

The speakers were none other than William Thompson and Ethan Foster, who had just arrived in Lin’an. Five days earlier, they had come with a merchant caravan, and Charles Brooks had rented two private courtyards in a high-end inn. Early this morning, Charles Brooks had gone out alone, so William Thompson and Ethan Foster, with nothing to do, decided to go out for a stroll.

“Brother Thompson, do you have any money on you?”

“We just got our regular pay yesterday. You already know that—what do you want?”

“I want to buy something for my mother to take home, but I don’t have enough money. Lend me one string of coins, that’ll be enough. I’ll pay you back as soon as we get back.”

William Thompson was always generous. He immediately took out twenty strings of paper money from his chest and stuffed them into Ethan Foster’s hands.

“Buy something nice for your mother—don’t be stingy.”

Ethan Foster was a bit moved as he accepted it. “You’re giving me all twenty strings, Brother Thompson? What about you?”

“I still have a few strings left. Just take it. Pay me back whenever you can.”

“My mother’s eyes aren’t good. Every spring, they hurt. I want to buy her some good medicine to take home.”

“Isn’t ‘Huichuntang’ over there a pharmacy? I also want to buy some medicine for wounds. Let’s go take a look together.”

The two didn’t return to the inn until it was nearly dark. As soon as they entered, the deputy steward Harris Black came up and scolded them: “Where the hell have you two been? Why are you only just getting back? The master’s had an accident!”

William Thompson was startled and rushed to the master’s door in a few steps, where he saw another close attendant, Olivia Wright, accompanying the doctor out. The doctor’s face was ashen, and he kept shaking his head.

“Brother Wright, what happened?”

Olivia Wright glanced at him and had Harris Black lead the doctor away before quietly saying, “The master was slashed with a knife. Although it wasn’t a vital spot, the blade was poisoned. But the doctor said it’s not serious—he’ll be fine after a few days’ rest.”

“I want to see him!”

Olivia Wright grabbed him. “The master just fell asleep. Don’t disturb him!”

“Bang!—Bang! Bang!”

It was already past midnight. William Thompson tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. He kept thinking about how the doctor had sighed all day, yet Olivia Wright said it was nothing serious. And how did the master suddenly get injured and poisoned? What was really going on? In the latter half of the night, it was his turn to keep watch for the master, so William Thompson sat up and got dressed. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a shadow flashing past the window. Startled, he hurried to the window, poked a small hole, and looked out. He saw the shadow slip into Harris Black’s room.

It was Olivia Wright! William Thompson recognized the figure at a glance.

“Isn’t he supposed to be attending to Master Xiao? Why did he go into Harris Black’s room? Could they be secretly colluding?”

Suspicious, William Thompson quietly crept to the window of Harris Black’s room.

“I don’t know where the master hid the thing. I just can’t find it.”

“Useless! You must find it by tomorrow at the latest. If he realizes he doesn’t have long to live and gives it to someone else, the madam will kill us!”

“I understand! It’s already past midnight, and William Thompson will be coming to take over soon. If he doesn’t see me, he’ll get suspicious. I’ll go back right away.”

“Go! Don’t let that kid catch on.”

William Thompson hurried back to his room. After Olivia Wright came over, he opened the door and stepped out.

“Brother Wright, thanks for your hard work. I’ll take over now!”

“I’m not tired. Why don’t you go to sleep? You can take the full night shift tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid I can’t stay up all night—I might mess things up. Brother Wright, go get some rest. If anything urgent happens, I’ll call you.”

Olivia Wright had no choice and didn’t dare say more. “Alright then! Just make sure not to disturb the master’s rest.”

“I understand!”

William Thompson went to Charles Brooks’s bedside. A foul stench hit him, making him want to vomit. He quickly lifted the quilt to take a closer look, and was shocked by what he saw: Charles Brooks’s face was pitch black, his neck wrapped in gauze, with pus constantly oozing out—the stench was coming from there.

William Thompson hurriedly used clean water to wash away the pus for Charles Brooks, and suddenly discovered that under the gauze there was not a trace of ointment—just a long wound wrapped directly in gauze. The wound had already turned black and rotten, reeking horribly.