“Master Foster, please give me a few more days, let me find a way to gather the silver to repay you, is that possible? Rest assured, Clark will not default on the debt!” Ethan Clark stepped forward slightly, cupping his hands in the ancient style he’d seen in TV dramas and movies.

“You, Ethan Clark, still talk about credibility? Why don’t you go out and ask around—how many people in Yanshen Town still believe a word you say, Ethan Clark? No way. Today, either you pay me back, or you hand over your family’s porcelain kiln as collateral. Or, divorce that delicate little wife of yours and let me take her home as a concubine to warm my bed.” Kevin Foster put his hands on his hips and, together with his two servants, burst out laughing.

Ethan Clark’s face instantly darkened. No! To be precise, it turned sinister.

Kevin Foster’s mocking words had unintentionally touched the deepest, most painful memory from his previous life—he hated those scoundrels who harassed women the most! In his past life, his poor mother, when he was five years old, took him to his grandmother’s house in the countryside for the New Year. On the way, they encountered two thugs. To protect him, his mother endured the humiliation and was assaulted by the two men in turn. A few days later, she hanged herself.

Witnessing his mother’s humiliation with his own eyes left his young heart deeply scarred. After her suicide, he became extremely withdrawn and cold. If he hadn’t later met the abbot of Qincheng Temple, Master Kingston, he might have remained closed off forever, and there would never have been the renowned young arts and crafts master Matthew Bolton.

Master Kingston was the third-generation inheritor of the Northern School of inside painting, and in his previous life, Ethan Clark was the fourth-generation successor. He attended school while apprenticing under the master at the temple, day after day for ten years. From his teacher, he not only inherited the art of inside painting, but also learned martial arts and a wealth of classical Chinese knowledge. After graduating from university, he became famous at a national arts and crafts exhibition.

It was as if he could still hear his mother’s anguished, shame-filled screams from back then. He had already forgotten that he was now Ethan Clark and not Matthew Bolton. His face flushed red, his eyes bloodshot, and he roared, “Say that again?”

A trace of surprise flashed in Kevin Foster’s eyes, but he immediately sneered with disdain, “What, you’re angry now? Look at you—what a waste of that delicate little wife. Just give her to me.”

Bang! One punch, just one punch—a straight jab fueled by blazing fury.

In an instant, blood gushed from Kevin Foster’s nostrils and lips, staining his fat face. His eyes filled with disbelief and terror as he toppled backward, crashing to the ground with a thud, nearly passing out.

Volume One: The World in a Pot

Chapter 4: The Painted Vase (3)

Kevin Foster’s two servants were dumbfounded, and even Old Clark and Henry Clark stood frozen on the spot. This—this—was this really the Eldest Young Master Clark who only ever chased women, gambled, and bullied the weak?

Ethan Clark’s wild, icy gaze fell on Kevin Foster lying on the ground. He stepped forward, bent down, and grabbed him by the collar. “Get up!”

“W-what are you doing? I’m going to report you to the authorities! You refuse to pay your debt and now you’re assaulting people!” Kevin Foster trembled, half getting up on his own, half being hauled up by Ethan Clark.

“I’ll say it again: I will repay the silver I owe you. Give me two days. Now, take your two dogs and get out!” Ethan Clark’s low voice rang in Kevin Foster’s ears. Seeing that chilling, sinister smile at the corner of his mouth, Kevin Foster couldn’t help but shiver inside.

With that, Ethan Clark slowly let go, stepped back two paces, and lifted his face to gaze at the blazing red sun overhead. The golden, dazzling sunlight spilled over him and reflected outward. Kevin Foster suddenly realized that the face of Ethan Clark, so familiar to him, now looked cold and utterly strange!

Without even a parting word, Kevin Foster slunk away with his men. Kevin Foster was, after all, a paper tiger—tough on the outside, weak on the inside, always bullying the weak and fearing the strong. He was used to pushing Ethan Clark around, but now that Ethan Clark had become so fierce and domineering, he was actually scared. The The Clark Family was still a prominent household, and since their master had backed down, Kevin Foster’s two servants naturally dared not make a move.

Ethan Clark’s anger gradually subsided. He glanced at Old Clark, and as he walked into the house, he called, “Uncle, come here for a moment.”

“Young master, you mustn’t call me that. It’s better if you just call this old servant Old Clark.” Old Clark had heard clearly this time and hurried to catch up, replying respectfully.

“Heh…” Ethan Clark gave a faint smile. “Though there’s a difference between master and servant, you’re of an advanced age, and I should respect my elders. Besides, you’ve served the The Clark Family for many years. Calling you ‘uncle’ is only fitting. Fine, from now on I’ll call you the old steward.”

“Young master!” Old Clark straightened up, his aged face a mix of excitement and confusion, with two murky tears swirling in his eyes.

Ethan Clark was moved, thinking, Is it really such a big deal to call him ‘uncle’? Then he realized it must be because the previous Clark was so arrogant and domineering, never treating the servants as people.

“Young master, the The Foster Family is a local tyrant here. Not only are they rich, but they also have officials backing them. Now that you’ve hit him, I’m afraid he won’t let this go easily…” Old Clark caught up, looking at Ethan Clark’s face and speaking in a low voice.