A young woman came out of the house, her face full of anger. “Nancy, where did you run off to? What did your mother tell you?”

This young woman was Nathan Foster’s mother in the Song Dynasty, The Bolton Family. She was the third daughter in her family, so the neighbors all called her Mary Bolton.

Although Mary Bolton was dressed in simple hairpins and a homespun skirt, her skin was fair and her features were delicate. Nathan Foster’s complexion and eyebrows closely resembled hers.

When Mary Bolton saw her son supporting an elderly man in a blue robe, she was slightly taken aback. “Nancy, who is he?”

“Mother, this elder twisted his ankle. I brought him home to rest for a while.”

The elderly man in blue also felt a bit embarrassed—how could he just enter someone else’s home so casually?

He gave Nathan Foster an apologetic smile. “I won’t go in, thank you for your kindness.”

Of course, Nathan Foster couldn’t let him leave. His own future and fortune depended on this old man—how could he let him go?

“It’s no trouble, sir. Please have a seat for a moment, and I’ll treat your injury.”

Just then, a burly man in his thirties came out of the house. He wore a short cloth shirt, the collar open to reveal bronzed muscles on his chest.

Though his features were rugged, his gaze was gentle, especially when he looked at his son.

This was Nathan Foster’s father in the Song Dynasty, named Thomas Foster, a fisherman who sailed on Lake Tai. He had been away from home for ten days and had just returned.

At that moment, Thomas Foster suddenly noticed the elderly man in blue. He instinctively rubbed his eyes and was stunned, stammering, “Third Uncle, you… what brings you here?”

“And you are…?” The old man didn’t recognize Thomas Foster.

“My father is Charles Foster of our family.”

The elderly man immediately understood, stroking his beard and laughing heartily. So this youngster was Charles Foster’s grandson—what a surprise!

Mary Bolton quickly tugged at her husband’s sleeve. “Darling, who exactly is he?”

“He’s our family’s own Mr. Foster!”

Thomas Foster immediately bowed to the ground. “Your nephew pays his respects, Third Uncle!”

Of course, Nathan Foster knew who Mr. Foster was—he was the famous minister John Foster, known for ‘worrying before the world worries, rejoicing after the world rejoices.’

It was this very elderly man in blue before him. He had known this three days ago.

But at this moment, Nathan Foster was a bit dumbfounded. John Foster was actually his own direct ancestor?

If he’d known earlier, why bother with all the scheming? He could have just come straight to acknowledge his kin.

Thomas Foster saw his son still standing there in a daze and quickly pulled him down to kneel. “Hurry and kowtow to your Third Grandfather!”

Chapter Two: Favoritism Is Also an Illness

John Foster, having been demoted and exiled from the capital after the failure of the Qingli Reforms, was currently serving as magistrate in Dengzhou. He had hurried home to pay respects on the anniversary of his mother’s death.

At this time, it happened to be the local civil service exam in Pingjiang Prefecture, and too many scholars were coming to seek his advice, which was overwhelming.

To find some peace and quiet, John Foster hid at the home of an old friend in Jiangwan Village by Lake Tai, and today he happened to encounter Nathan Foster telling the story of Journey to the West to some children.

Thomas Foster hurriedly invited Third Uncle into the house, while Mary Bolton quickly brought out the best tea in the house to boil water for him.

John Foster looked around the room. The lighting was bright, the furniture was all homemade from wood and rather crude, but everything was neat and spotlessly clean.

“Tiezhou, why did your father move here?”

Thomas Foster sighed. “It’s all because of his eccentric temper, as you surely know, Third Uncle.”

John Foster nodded. Although he and Nathan Foster’s grandfather Charles Foster were cousins, they rarely spoke.

Calling it an eccentric temper was putting it mildly; in truth, he just didn’t know how to get along with people and had trouble interacting with the clan.

John Foster glanced back at the still-confused Nathan Foster and smiled. “Didn’t you suggest I use cold water to treat my injury?”

Thomas Foster quickly asked, “What happened to you, Third Uncle?”

“I accidentally twisted my ankle just now. Nancy suggested I use cold water to treat it.”

“I’ll fetch some well water!” Mary Bolton moved quickly, hurrying to get a wooden basin.

“No need!”

Thomas Foster immediately stopped his wife. He rummaged in a drawer and took out a small porcelain bottle, handing it to John Foster.

“This is an ointment I made myself from herbs I gathered in the mountains. It’s very effective for bruises and sprains. Please try it, Third Uncle!”

John Foster smiled as he accepted the ointment. He removed his shoes and socks, applied it evenly to his ankle, and immediately felt a cool sensation seep into his skin. The pain vanished at once.

After a moment, John Foster put his shoes and socks back on, walked a few steps, and found he was completely healed.

“What is this medicine? It’s amazing!” John Foster asked in surprise.

“I don’t know its name either, Uncle. Please keep it! Just apply it again tonight and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t need it, I was just curious.” John Foster smiled and put the bottle back on the table.

Standing to the side, Nathan Foster was moved. There was such a good medicine at home, and he hadn’t even known about it!

If he opened a shop in town specializing in treating bruises and sprains, wouldn’t the money just pour in?

At this moment, John Foster smiled and beckoned to Nathan Foster. “Come here to me!”

Nathan Foster hurried forward, taking a closer look at this famous statesman and writer from history.

John Foster was actually just an ordinary country elder, but there was a gentle elegance in his every gesture that ordinary people lacked.

But Nathan Foster’s sharp eyes noticed that there was an unmistakable sorrow in John Foster’s gaze.