William Owen sighed, “Housing prices in the capital are so high, how could I possibly afford one? Helen, let’s not talk about this, it’ll ruin our mood. Tonight, let me host a welcome dinner for you—let’s not stop until we’re drunk!”

Nathan Foster found it amusing—so even in the Song Dynasty, people talked about housing prices when they met, just like in later generations. Still, he was curious: how much did a house in the capital cost these days?

……

William Owen invited John Foster into the main hall, and the two of them took their seats as host and guest. Although there were a few empty chairs nearby, Nathan Foster obediently stood behind John Foster.

In front of these two Song Dynasty bigwigs, there was certainly no seat for him.

After a few polite exchanges, John Foster took out a packet of compressed tea and placed it on the table, smiling as he pushed it toward William Owen. “A little specialty from my hometown. It’s not worth much, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“How fragrant!”

William Owen took a deep breath of the tea’s aroma and smiled at John Foster, “This scent must be from that ten-mu tea garden at the foot of Dongting East Mountain—the finest tribute tea, not available on the market. I didn’t expect Helen to bring it for me. What good fortune today!”

Nathan Foster watched from the side for a long time, but he just couldn’t recognize that these slightly whitish tea cakes were actually the famous Biluochun of later generations.

At that moment, a young man and woman walked past the hall. When William Owen saw them, he quickly waved, “Bobby, Claire, you two come in!”

The pair hurried into the main hall. Leading the way was a teenage boy, a head taller than Nathan Foster, about thirteen or fourteen years old, with delicate features. Upon entering, he first bowed to William Owen and addressed him as Master.

William Owen smiled and introduced the boy to John Foster, “Helen, this is my young disciple, Robert Turner!”

John Foster stroked his beard and smiled, “Truly, heroes have always emerged from the young!”

When the boy heard that the elderly man before him was the renowned John Foster, a flash of delight appeared in his eyes. He quickly bowed deeply to John Foster, “Student Robert Turner greets Lord Fan!”

Nathan Foster thought to himself, so this boy is Robert Turner, the younger brother of Zeng Gong. Could he be William Owen’s treasured disciple?

Nathan Foster guessed right—Robert Turner was a famous prodigy in the capital, who had made a name for himself a few years ago and caught William Owen’s eye, becoming his disciple. He had just taken the children’s level imperial exam.

William Owen had more than ten disciples, but Robert Turner was the youngest and the one he valued most.

At this moment, however, Nathan Foster’s attention was more focused on the young girl. She had jet-black, beautiful hair styled in double loops, wore a white embroidered blouse, a red pleated skirt, and a light yellow jacket over it, walking gracefully into the hall.

As the girl approached, Nathan Foster’s eyes lit up. He had never seen such a pretty and elegant Song Dynasty girl.

She was simply “with every step she takes, she’s like a willow swaying and a flower smiling in early bloom.”

She was about the same age as Robert Turner, thirteen or fourteen, but extremely beautiful, with large, lively eyes that sparkled like black gemstones.

Though still a minor, the girl was already tall and slender, as lovely as a flower.

For a moment, Nathan Foster was completely entranced.

This girl was named Claire Owen, the eldest daughter of William Owen and his third wife, Lady Xue.

Claire Owen stepped forward, first bowing to her father, then giving John Foster a graceful formal greeting. With shy eyes and rosy lips, she softly said, “Claire greets Uncle Fan!”

John Foster laughed and said to William Owen, “It’s been a few years, and Claire has grown so much. The little tomboy has turned into a lovely young lady—how quickly time flies!”

At this, Robert Turner quickly glanced at Nathan Foster. Seeing him staring dazedly at Claire Owen, eyes shining, he felt a bit displeased and asked with a smile, “And this young brother is…?”

Nathan Foster immediately withdrew his gaze, stepped forward, bowed, and replied with a faint smile, “I am Nathan Foster, a junior from Wu County.”

William Owen chuckled, “Bobby, Young Lord Fan is Lord Fan’s grandson and has truly inherited his talents. You should learn from him!”

Receiving his master’s hint, Robert Turner understood and smiled, “May I ask what books Brother Fan usually reads?”

“My interests are quite broad, but I can’t compare to Brother Turner.”

“No worries! No worries! Why don’t we have a little contest, so I can witness your talents firsthand?”

Robert Turner looked at him eagerly. He and Claire Owen were deeply fond of each other and had long hoped for their master William Owen’s approval.

But their master had never given his opinion. Now, meeting John Foster’s grandson, if he could thoroughly outshine this little brat, he’d bring great honor to his master.

Perhaps, if his master was pleased, he’d agree to their marriage.

Besides, having a chance to impress Claire was even more exciting and motivating for Robert Turner.

William Owen was also quite interested, stroking his beard and smiling, “Bobby, don’t underestimate him! Young Lord Fan is a rare prodigy.”

Nathan Foster was a bit surprised—was William Owen encouraging this?

Nathan Foster glanced back at his grandfather John Foster, seeking his opinion.

John Foster, however, could only smile wryly in his heart.

This competitive William Owen! He was only joking earlier, but William Owen really called in his treasured disciple. Didn’t he know his own grandson was only eight years old?