He looked at the young man with great satisfaction. Hmm, not bad—robust and sturdy, and his looks were pleasing enough. At the very least, he’d feel at ease taking him out for a stroll. “By the way, when did that Steward Mason enter the The Brooks Residence?” Peter Brooks asked leisurely. What he most wanted to know was the identity of this Steward Mason. After all, having arrived in a new environment, he needed to get a general understanding of everything around him to better plan his future actions.

Under Peter Brooks’s subtle probing, he finally managed to figure out the old steward’s background. This old steward’s surname was Mason, given name Colin, with no courtesy name. When his father was young and traveling in the southern part of Yizhou, he encountered this minority tribesman, who had failed in an internal tribal struggle and was fleeing for his life. It was said that when his father found Steward Mason, he was covered in blood, barely clinging to life, looking as if he wouldn’t last much longer. By chance, his father knew a bit of medicine, and, driven by a burst of compassion, managed to bring this man back from the brink of death with his skillful hands.

According to the minority custom of “a life for a life,” Steward Mason, having been saved by his father, insisted on repaying the favor for three years. His father couldn’t dissuade him and had to let him be. This Colin Mason, of minority descent, was quick-witted and physically strong, possessing considerable brute strength. After three years, the friendship between his father and Steward Mason deepened, and upon another invitation, Steward Mason half-heartedly agreed to stay at the The Brooks Residence, willingly serving his father.

Although his father had asked Steward Mason about his background many times, Steward Mason only said that there had been upheaval at home, that he and his brothers had turned against each other, and that he had no choice but to flee the stronghold, barely escaping with his life. “I don’t think that’s the case!” The servant scratched his chin with his finger, eyes blinking non-stop, looking very gossipy. He completely forgot he was answering in front of his young master.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” Peter Brooks was intrigued. After all, as a time traveler from the modern era, it was his first time encountering the gossipy side of ancient people, which felt oddly familiar—just like back in the hospital department, when a few doctors would squat together, speculating whether the department head’s daughter, soon to return from studying abroad, looked more like her beautiful mother or her father, who was as fat as a cow and had a booming voice.

The servant chuckled, “I heard it from my dad, it’s absolutely true. Back then, my dad was serving the old master on his travels. He still remembers that Steward Mason was covered in knife wounds, blood everywhere, a truly gruesome sight, and the long knife in Steward Mason’s hand was full of nicks…” At this point, the servant’s expression became especially strange, and Peter Brooks was secretly shocked. Damn, it seemed this Steward Mason was far from a simple minority tribesman. Family conflict? Could family conflict really get this bad? It was probably more like class conflict.

However, Peter Brooks was also certain in his heart that his father, who could become the governor of Jiangyang County, was definitely no fool. To boldly and confidently employ such a fierce minority man, he must have his reasons. Moreover, recalling Steward Mason’s concern upon seeing him awaken, and the look of relief after confirming he was truly fine, it didn’t seem like an act at all.

The servant continued to chatter on about Steward Mason’s past. In the years that followed, Colin Mason was always his father’s best enforcer and bodyguard. His father had served as an official in minority regions many times and had often faced life-threatening dangers. Each time, it was Colin Mason and the household guards who fought desperately to save him from peril. His loyalty to his father could be said to be witnessed by the heavens. Coupled with his outstanding abilities in all aspects, he became his father’s most trusted confidant, rising to the position of CEO of the The Brooks Residence, wielding considerable power and influence.

Peter Brooks resumed his relaxed smile and said, “It’s not unusual for these tribesmen to have the surname Mason. Nothing strange about it. Alright, that’s all, Paul Brooks, you may go. If anything comes up, just let me know—don’t be all sneaky about it.” At the very least, Peter Brooks knew that in the Three Kingdoms period, there was a Meng Huo and a Meng You; perhaps this old steward Colin Mason was from the same stronghold as them.

Minorities—minorities were actually quite nice. At least in the small county where Peter Brooks lived, nearly half the population was minority, most of them straightforward types: you respect me a foot, I’ll give you a yard. But if you really pissed them off, they’d still smash your head with a brick or come at you with a butcher’s knife. The smaller the place, the less scheming there was. In contrast, in big cities and large organizations, scheming seemed to be everyone’s main daily task—always stabbing each other in the back with soft knives. Boring!

After waving away the servant who was still squatting nearby waiting for instructions, Peter Brooks began to consider how he would make his way in this world.

Peter Brooks had certainly thought about achieving his own imperial ambitions. Think about it—Liu Bang of the Han dynasty was just a lowly pavilion chief, yet he could get drunk, chop up an earthworm the length of a finger with a kitchen knife, and claim to have slain the White Serpent, founding a nation and building a shrine. So why couldn’t he pick up a fruit knife, cut off the head of a mouse killed by rat poison, and claim to have slain the leader of the zodiac to found a country? Hmm, it was all just a matter of bluffing—anyone could give it a try.