As for the other idle people, Steward Mason very tactfully drove everyone out, telling them to go about their own business. Even the little maid who had just made Peter Brooks blush had left, leaving only Peter Brooks and Steward Mason in the room. At this point, Peter Brooks was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, sorted out the thoughts in his head, and slowly said, “Old steward, although I’m feeling much better, for some reason, I can’t remember a lot of things. It’s as if I had a long, hazy dream spanning over twenty years in the Spring and Autumn period…”

Upon hearing this, the old steward couldn’t help but feel anxious: “Young master, what should we do? Should I call that old physician back to examine you again?”

“No! I’m not ill, I’ve just forgotten some things from before. This should be the aftereffect of the soul-loss illness. I suppose that old physician is highly skilled and must know a thing or two about it.” Peter Brooks put on an air of certainty as he spoke. His casual explanation actually made Steward Mason hesitate. Looking at the familiar face of the young master, he secretly pondered: Indeed, ever since that day when the young master, out of boredom, insisted on climbing the tree himself to pick the newly ripened apricots, who would have expected such an accident? But this kind of family embarrassment really shouldn’t be told to outsiders. Although he couldn’t tell if the young master’s memory loss was real or fake, it was best not to mention it. Otherwise, given the young master’s usual vengeful nature, he might even reward those servants who knew about it to death.

Thinking of this, Steward Mason actually felt quite relieved, hoping the young master would just forget about the whole incident. So Steward Mason cautiously said, “I suppose ever since the old master passed away, you have wept every day, harming your health and causing soul-loss. It’s normal to forget some things from before. That old physician did mention it briefly to me. If you hadn’t brought it up, I wouldn’t have thought much of it.”

“…Oh, that’s good, that’s really good.” Peter Brooks let out a huge sigh of relief. This was all just made up, but he hadn’t expected that the old physician would be so in tune with his transmigrated self in the Three Kingdoms era, helping him solve a big problem.

Although Steward Mason didn’t quite understand why the young master looked so relieved and spoke so strangely, the two of them, each harboring their own secrets, exchanged knowing smiles…

“There’s one more thing. Don’t call me young master anymore; it just sounds awkward. Is there any other form of address?” Peter Brooks seized the opportunity to finally voice what he’d been holding back for a long time. Indeed, after being influenced by the messy social culture of later generations, Peter Brooks found this term increasingly grating.

Steward Mason was slightly taken aback: “Oh dear, I deserve to die. The old master has already passed, so the ‘young’ in young master should be dropped.” As Steward Mason said this, his gaze flickered. Peter Brooks chuckled and explained, “Whether it’s master or young master, I won’t be using those titles.”

At this, Steward Mason, who had suspected that Peter Brooks was becoming arrogant again and ready to return to his old ways, breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he was a bit troubled. After a while, he slapped his thigh: “Then how about we call you ‘gongzi’? Our Chen family is a prominent family in Jiangyang, so calling you ‘gongzi’ is well-deserved.”

With Steward Mason’s explanation, Peter Brooks finally understood that the title ‘gongzi’ wasn’t something that could be used casually in later times. In the Spring and Autumn period, only the sons of feudal lords could be called that. By the Han dynasty, although the restrictions weren’t as strict, it was still commonly used to refer to influential or aristocratic young talents. Since Peter Brooks’s grandfather’s generation had all served as officials at court, and he was a young man from a noble family, being called ‘gongzi’ was perfectly appropriate.

※※※

Steward Mason, quick-witted as ever, came up with this form of address and explained it so thoroughly that it seemed this steward of minority descent was no ordinary person. Peter Brooks became even more curious about the steward’s background, though it wasn’t appropriate to ask directly. He could always inquire with others later.

“Gongzi? Hmm, from now on, just call me gongzi.” Peter Brooks’s eyes lit up. This title was indeed much better—at least a hundred times more pleasant to the ear than ‘master’. The title ‘gongzi’ sounded far better to Peter Brooks than ‘master’.

Having made up his mind, Steward Mason, who was always thorough once he decided on something, immediately summoned people and instructed them to inform everyone in the household that from now on, no one was to call Peter Brooks ‘young master’—everyone must address him as ‘gongzi’. Seeing the steward handle things so efficiently, Peter Brooks secretly gave him a thumbs up. A real talent—at least in the position of steward, Peter Brooks felt that Steward Mason was truly responsible.

“This is Jiangyang County, Yizhou?” Peter Brooks repeated subconsciously. Yizhou—what a coincidence. In later generations, he had lived for over ten years in the territory of Yizhou from the Three Kingdoms era before leaving the small county town for life in the big city. It seemed as if fate had really kicked him into the Yizhou of the Three Kingdoms, which was somehow connected to his own living environment.

Steward Mason quickly nodded: “Exactly. Our Chen family in Jiangyang County is really something!” Steward Mason raised a thumb with a proud look on his face and slowly began to recount the history of the Chen family.