Previously, she had walked from the Zhang family at the entrance of the village all the way to this temporary school near the end of the village. Now, she had to walk from the end of the village back to the entrance. Emily Brooks was already drenched in sweat, feeling as if her clothes were plastered tightly to her body—utterly uncomfortable.

As she walked, she thought to herself that on hot days like this, she would always hide in a room filled with ice basins to avoid getting sunburned or tanned, or sweating so much that her makeup would be ruined. If it weren’t for her curiosity about what kind of lessons Ethan Bolton was teaching, she would never have come out under such a scorching sun, let alone walked such a long way!

Even though she had discovered a few things, that guy still paid her no mind!

What’s more, in the capital, she always traveled by carriage or sedan chair, and more often on horseback. This was the first time she had ever walked such a long distance on her own two legs. Even when she used to enter the palace, she was always treated with great favor and often had a sedan to sit in.

Unconsciously, Emily Brooks raised her sleeve to shield herself from the blazing sun. But after just a few steps, she suddenly felt the sunlight, which had been so bright she could barely open her eyes, dim a little. Thinking that clouds had finally drifted across the sky, she quickly lowered her sleeve and looked up—only to find that what was blocking the scorching sun was actually a large, bright red oil-paper umbrella!

Most importantly, there was a poem boldly written on the umbrella, none other than “Spring River, Flower, Moon, Night”!

She stared at the handwriting for quite a while, suddenly finding it familiar. Only then did she think to look at the person holding the umbrella. As she turned her head, her gaze froze, and all her previous anger instantly vanished, leaving her even a little tongue-tied.

“You… how did you…”

Ethan Bolton calmly reached out and handed her the umbrella. “Don’t go out much in summer. If you do, use an umbrella, or you won’t have time to save your skin from tanning.”

After saying this, he waited for Miss Brooks to dazedly take the umbrella, then nodded slightly and walked away without looking back.

It was quite a while before Emily Brooks snapped out of her daze. Looking at the beautiful paper umbrella in her hand, she noticed not only was the handle smooth and rounded, but besides the bold ink of the poem, the scattered decorative patterns on the umbrella were also pleasing to the eye. Her mood unconsciously improved, and she even forgot that the person beside her was a taciturn one. She turned and shook the umbrella in her hand, asking, “Did your young master make this?”

“No, it was made by Carpenter Wood in his spare time,” Sam replied stiffly as usual, but then suddenly added, “But the writing on it is from the young master. That’s a poem he really likes.”

At this, Emily Brooks immediately beamed with delight. She wasn’t the kind of talented lady who could recite poetry at the drop of a hat, but having read since childhood, she could easily recall dozens or even hundreds of Tang and Song poems. However, her favorite—this magnificent and timeless “Spring River, Flower, Moon, Night,” a poem that outshines all others of the Tang dynasty—was something she had never mentioned to anyone.

What a wonderful coincidence… though that terrible handwriting really is a bit of an eyesore!

With joy written all over her face, she no longer minded that Sam had stopped mid-sentence earlier. Holding the red oil-paper umbrella, she continued on her way. Even though the sun was still blazing overhead and the muddy village roads were uncomfortable to walk on, and she was still sweating, she now felt quite at ease under the big red umbrella. She even found herself thinking of something entirely unrelated.

Did Ethan Bolton know that, supposedly, big red oil-paper umbrellas were used by grooms to fetch their brides?

Although she had previously wanted nothing more than to take a good bath, change her clothes, and then lie in bed and never get up, now that she had the red oil-paper umbrella for shade, Miss Brooks perked up. She thought that since she was staying at the The Bolton Family under the pretense of inspecting her father’s business, she ought to take a good look around the village. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be a joke if she went back knowing nothing?

And so, the children of the village were lucky enough to witness a scene completely different from when Mr. Ethan Bolton usually passed by.

They saw a youth dressed in elegant blue silk, with strikingly beautiful features, walking through the muddy village roads under a big red paper umbrella—stopping here, looking there—like a peony of great wealth suddenly blooming in a rustic landscape, drawing all eyes.

As the first child hesitantly followed behind, by the time Emily Brooks had wandered all around the village, a long, crooked line of children had formed behind her. After she had visited the rice fields at the edge of the village, she finally sensed something was off. Turning around, she saw boys and girls, big and small, the oldest no more than four or five, the youngest just learning to walk.

When she looked at them, many of them ran off, but after a short distance, they stopped, turned around, and continued to stare at her.

Anyone else would have been baffled, but Emily Brooks, who had long been the center of attention galloping through the streets of the capital, was only momentarily surprised before bursting into laughter. “These little ones really do know beauty when they see it!”

No sooner had she finished speaking than she heard Sam’s voice: “Miss, it looks like there are guests at home.”

Miss Brooks immediately turned to look, and sure enough, the The Bolton Family residence was not far away. At this moment, the once-empty main gate was crowded with carriages and horses—there were no fewer than seven carriages alone!

With her sharp eyes, she recognized that those carriages were from her own family. Her first feeling was not joy, but… nervousness!