Although he had known about it for a while, faced with such an uninvited but enthusiastic person, Brian Clark didn’t want to dampen his spirits. He nodded and smiled, saying, “I see, thank you for your trouble, young man. Is there anything else?”

　　Confronted with someone so thick-skinned as to be almost oblivious, the young man instantly felt as powerless as if he’d punched a pile of cotton. Looking at Brian Clark’s still calm and smiling face, he suddenly turned away in a huff, flung his sleeve, and left without another word. Watching this nameless person come and go even faster, Brian Clark shrugged and turned back into the house, shuffling his slippers as he walked and muttering to himself, “Looks like if I have some spare money, I’ll have to hire another doorman, so that just anyone can’t wander in at will.”

　　Chapter Seven: Great Wisdom Appears Foolish

　　Whether it was because he had been given an important task and was putting all his effort into it, or because he’d gone out and gotten distracted playing, by the time the sun set, Brian Clark had finished sorting through all the paper in the cabinet, but still hadn’t seen Ryan Clark return. It was already dinnertime, and Mrs. King brought a food box with the meal, just as she had in previous days: two dishes, one soup, and a big bowl of rice. Only this time, her expression was much more pleasant than the perfunctory look she’d worn before. After setting the table, she even stood by for a moment, watching as Brian Clark took a couple of bites.

　　“Master, does it suit your taste?”

　　“Mm.” Brian Clark nodded insincerely, then asked without looking up, “Your husband has been out these past few days—have you been watching the house?”

　　“I have so many things to do, how could I stand by the door all day?” Mrs. King didn’t understand his meaning and laughed, “Hardly anyone ever comes to our house, and there’s nothing worth stealing. I just leave the main door ajar. I keep my ears open—if anyone comes in, I’ll definitely know. Master, you can rest easy.”

　　From her tone, Brian Clark realized that the girl in men’s clothes who had come and gone earlier had passed by completely unnoticed by Mrs. King. He couldn’t be bothered to say more, only told her to come back later to tidy up, and waved her out the door. After that, he didn’t care about manners, quickly finished his meal, left the dishes there, and went straight into the east room.

　　On the north-south facing luohan bed, he had just placed the stack of copybooks he’d found at the very bottom of the cabinet. Among them were three land deeds and the deed to the house he now lived in.

　　The three land deeds amounted to three hundred mu of paddy fields. Even though he wasn’t familiar with current land prices, he knew that in the densely populated southern Zhili, this was no small amount and quite valuable. As for the house deed, that went without saying—without it, he’d be out on the street. Yet the former Brian Clark had carelessly kept these important property documents together with a pile of dusty copybooks.

　　At this moment, he sat down on the luohan bed, holding the thin sheets of paper, his brows furrowing and relaxing, relaxing and furrowing again, until the sound of light footsteps came from outside and he finally looked up.

　　“Master, I’ve taken away the dishes. If you get hungry later and want a snack, just let me know! If you run out of lamp oil, since my husband isn’t home, you can just call me.”

　　“Got it, you can go!” Stuffing things away, Brian Clark replied casually, and soon the noise outside faded.

　　These land and house deeds had left almost no impression in the memories he’d inherited; finding them just now was pure luck. Having learned this lesson, he dared not rely entirely on memories that weren’t originally his.

　　Lighting the oil lamp, he put the thin papers back with the copybooks and stuffed them into the cabinet, then took down the large tomes from the neatly arranged bookshelf once more. This time, he didn’t just look at the titles and covers, but flipped through each one from beginning to end. Only after confirming that nothing was hidden inside did he breathe a sigh of relief, feeling utterly exhausted, and plopped down on the luohan bed.

　　“Master, Master!”

　　With this loud shouting, Brian Clark didn’t even need to look up to know who had come rushing in. Sure enough, as the door curtain was flung aside with a gust of wind, the person finally stopped two or three steps in front of him, but didn’t speak right away. Looking up, he saw Ryan Clark bracing his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, his whole head drenched in sweat.

　　Only after catching his breath did Ryan Clark straighten up, wipe his forehead and chin with his sleeve, and hurriedly say, “Master, something’s wrong! Just now, when I was coming back, I ran into Mrs. Sutton at the street corner. She told me privately that while she was doing some mending work for the eldest master of the main branch, she overheard that the eldest master had invited several clan elders. After the celebration for the sixth master’s promotion, they plan to hold a clan hall trial for you, and this time they’re determined to expel you from the Xu family for good!”

　　Contrary to what he expected—panic or anger—Ryan Clark saw that Brian Clark, sitting on the luohan bed, didn’t even bat an eyelid, remaining as calm as ever. In this unexpected situation, his speech became hesitant: “Master, are you… are you alright? This… this is such a big deal…”