During those years, the only thing he could look forward to each day was three meals of good food. Only after eating could he truly feel that he was still alive.

Now, his mother prided herself on her cooking, but Ethan Brooks found it completely unappetizing. Still, he kept shoveling food into his mouth without stopping, only putting down his chopsticks after finishing every last noodle in his bowl. Maybe, if he ate it long enough, he would eventually come to like his mother's cooking.

Seeing his mother eating happily, Ethan Brooks tossed a peeled boiled egg into her bowl. One egg a day—this was his mother's requirement for Ethan Brooks.

Grace Walker frowned, but when she saw her son grinning at her, she ate the egg white and put the yolk into Ethan Brooks's rice bowl. Only then did Ethan Brooks scoop up the yolk with his spoon and swallow it in one gulp, nearly choking and rolling his eyes. Grace Walker hurriedly gave him a mouthful of noodle soup, saving him from choking to death.

“What a delicious egg white—why don’t you like it, child?”

In fact, Ethan Brooks liked egg whites. His mother had misunderstood, so he had no choice but to get used to eating the yolk. Getting some extra iron wasn’t a bad thing, either.

The simple lunch for mother and son ended amid his mother’s complaints.

The fox lounged disdainfully in a shabby basket, basking in the sun. Ever since it had become beautiful, it hardly ate the family’s food anymore. The hole in the palace wall had given it great convenience, and it always dined on royal fare.

Lunch at the Tie family was always early. Grace Walker still kept the habits of a farming household, eating only two meals a day. Though they didn’t have to eat thick porridge when busy and thin gruel when idle, plain tea and simple food were unavoidable.

The fox stood up from the basket, stretched lazily, then jumped over the low fence Grace Walker had built and darted straight into the hole in the imperial city wall.

After squeezing through the hole, it yipped twice at the guards on the wall. When it saw a guard wave at it, it crossed a patch of withered grass and ran toward the imperial garden. At this time every day, someone would be waiting to eat with it.

The Song emperor George Washington had been in a terrible mood lately. Ever since ascending the throne, he had wanted to restore the name of his birth mother, Consort Li Chen, but he could not forget the kindness of Liu E, who had raised him. This left him trapped in the agonizing dilemma of whether birth or upbringing was more important.

Even at this morning’s court session, the ministers were not debating the reconstruction of Tokyo after the disaster, but were instead fiercely demanding that he not allow the remains of his birth mother, Consort Li Chen, to be interred in Dingling.

Facing the powerful scholar-official class, all George Washington could do was feign illness and leave the court.

In a corner of the imperial garden was his favorite greenhouse. Because of the earth’s veins, it remained as warm as spring even in the depths of winter. Outside the greenhouse, rows of green vegetables still grew. Only here could the weary George Washington feel a trace of vitality.

A snow-white fox darted swiftly through the leaf-strewn woods.

A faint smile finally appeared on George Washington’s face. The young eunuch attending him, Henry Walker, chuckled softly and lifted the curtain of the greenhouse. Now that the little fox had arrived, His Majesty’s gloomy mood would surely improve.

The little fox yipped at the door of the greenhouse.

George Washington smiled and said, “Xiao Jian, let it in. It seems the only one who still shows me any manners is this little fellow.”

“Bao Heizi just talks too much—he doesn’t really have the nerve to be rude to Your Majesty.”

“He spat all over my face, and you still say he’s polite? All right, I know you mean well, but hurry and let my guest in. Look, it’s drooling already—this is no way for the royal family to treat a guest.”

Eunuch Xiao Jian stepped aside, and the little fox darted in, nimbly jumping onto a chair and stretching its neck, waiting for Xiao Jian to serve its food.

George Washington chuckled, “What, your master still hasn’t given you anything good to eat today?”

The fox yipped twice, seeming a bit impatient.

“All right, I see you’re eyeing that chicken. Xiao Jian, give it the chicken head.”

After giving the order, George Washington began to eat. Xiao Jian took the chicken’s head and placed it in the fox’s food bowl, and the fox immediately buried its head in the bowl, eating noisily.

Before he knew it, George Washington had finished a bowl of rice. Seeing the fox still eating chicken, he hesitated, feeling he hadn’t eaten enough, and asked Xiao Jian to serve him another bowl of rice.

Xiao Jian was overjoyed—this was the first time in half a year that the emperor had asked for more rice. After serving the emperor, he quietly placed a piece of braised beef in the fox’s bowl, hoping the fox would keep the emperor company and help him eat more.

A month ago, the emperor had met this fox in a bamboo grove. The fox hadn’t run away when it saw him. When the guards surrounded it, it nervously presented the emperor with a large rat it had just caught, greatly delighting His Majesty.