Ethan Clark was just about to say a few more polite words and then take his leave, when suddenly—smack!—something warm and soft flew at him from a corner of the Inspection Office’s main hall. Startled, he looked down to see a stinky donkey dung ball “blossoming” as it scattered, sliding down from his chest and leaving a dark, dirty mark on his long robe.

　　David Bolton shouted angrily, “Frank Bolton, that’s enough! Come out here!”

　　A boy of about twelve or thirteen, dressed in plain clothes, timidly walked out from a corner of the hall. Though his head was lowered, his darting eyes still glared fiercely at Ethan Clark.

　　“Scholar Lin, my younger brother is mischievous, please don’t take offense, please don’t take offense!” David Bolton said with an embarrassed smile, rising to offer an apologetic laugh. In the Ming Dynasty, many people married and had children at twelve or thirteen, but David Bolton’s younger brother seemed never to grow up, always playing around and causing him endless headaches. Several times, he’d thought of sending him back to their old home in Jinling, but worried no one would look after him, so he always gave up in the end.

　　“It’s nothing, boys will be boys. Sir, Ethan will take his leave now!” Ethan Clark glanced at the still-defiant Frank Bolton, then turned to go.

Volume One: The World in a Pot, Chapter 7: Cooking Fish

　　“Hey, fancy young master, when are you going to return the two carp you owe me?” Frank Bolton suddenly shouted.

　　Ethan Clark was taken aback. He slowly turned around and said with a wry smile, “Frank Bolton, do you know me?”

　　“Oh, you playboy, stop pretending! How could you not know me? Don’t forget, last month you tricked me out of two big carp, promising to return them soon, but it’s been a month—where are my fish?!” Frank Bolton said angrily.

　　Ethan Clark shook his head, thinking to himself that this must be another mess caused by Someone Clark. He thought for a moment and said, “Frank Bolton, I’ve been ill lately and can’t remember anything from before. Why don’t you tell me how I tricked you?”

　　“Hmph! That day, I caught two carp by the Xiaofu River, planning to keep them in a basin at home. But you, you playboy, came by and sweet-talked me out of my fish to go with your wine, promising to catch four fish to pay me back. So where are they?” Frank Bolton stomped his foot, his slightly childish face flushed red.

　　“Oh, I see. Frank Bolton, it’s just two fish. How about I have my family buy four and send them to the Inspection Office for you?” Ethan Clark chuckled.

　　“No, I want live fish! I want live carp from the Xiaofu River!”

　　Ethan Clark was momentarily stunned. “Alright, alright, Frank Bolton, you take me there and I’ll catch a few live fish for you right now.”

　　“Let’s go! If you go back on your word, you’re worse than a pig or a dog!” Frank Bolton’s eyes lit up at the mention of fishing, and he immediately became excited.

　　Ethan Clark smiled at David Bolton, “Sir, I’ll be right back with your brother.”

　　David Bolton gave an awkward smile. “Hehe, Scholar Lin, as you wish.”

　　A few bailiffs standing below the hall snickered from the side. David Bolton’s face darkened, and he slammed the gavel. “This is a court of law! No noise! Dismissed!”

　　……

　　Old Clark stood at the arched gate of the The Clark Estate’s inner courtyard when a gentle, plaintive voice drifted out, “Old steward, has the young master returned from the Inspection Office?”

　　“Madam, the young master’s case has been settled. He used the family’s land deeds to pay off Wu Kui, and then… then he took Inspector Bolton’s younger brother to the Xiaofu River. Now… I suppose he’s gone to catch fish.” Old Clark replied respectfully. “Oh, and madam, I heard from Old Morgan that the young master has been helping them at the kiln these past two days, making three-foot painted vases. His skill is truly astonishing…”

　　“What does the young master know about porcelain making? He’s probably just fooling around again. Sigh, let him be. Old steward, I’ll have to trouble you with the household affairs.” The person in the courtyard sighed, then fell silent.

　　Old Clark also let out a long sigh and left quietly.

　　The Xiaofu River is a small river originating deep in the mountains east of Yanshen Town, formed by the convergence of many clear springs. Legend has it that at the end of the Southern Song Dynasty, there was a very filial daughter-in-law here. Her husband died young, and though her mother-in-law mistreated her, she endured it willingly. One year, there was a severe drought, and her mother-in-law wanted water. The daughter-in-law dug with her hands on the mountain for five days and nights without sleep, finally uncovering a clear spring… Thus, it was named the Xiaofu (Filial Wife) River.

　　The river water is clear, and the river itself is not wide—only about a dozen meters across. On both banks, rows of willows stand, their dense branches swaying in the breeze like waves of green. The soft glow of the setting sun gently spills over the river, making the rippling water shimmer beautifully.

　　Ethan Clark looked around. The current was gentle, the water shallow and clear to the bottom, with palm-sized fish darting back and forth. He smiled, stretched a bit, clumsily took off his robe and shoes, leaving only his shorts, picked up Frank Bolton’s small fishing net, and with a leap from the bank, arced gracefully into the water, sending up a light splash.

　　As a champion swimmer at university and a child who grew up by the Yangtze, he’d swum in the great river itself—how could this little stream pose any challenge?

　　In the water, holding his breath, Ethan Clark skillfully spread the net with both hands. When a fish swam by, he’d suddenly flip his hands, trapping the fish in the net, then surface and toss the fish one by one onto the bank.