David Foster was originally just a bit displeased, but upon hearing this, he finally couldn't suppress the anger rising in his heart. Samuel Clark was merely an insignificant pawn under his name; if such an important gathering were to be ruined because of this nobody, David Foster would absolutely not let him off.

“Master Foster, how about—”

A young nobleman in brocade tentatively began.

“No need!”

David Foster cut him off without hesitation before he could finish:

“Gentlemen, a small incident has occurred, it was David Foster's discourtesy. —Mr. Bolton, give this to him, and tell him that after the gathering, I will meet him personally.”

As David Foster spoke, he flicked his wrist and tossed a golden token from his waist.

David Foster rarely used his own token, unless it was for something significant. If Samuel Clark had any sense, upon seeing this token he should understand his intentions.

If he still failed to appreciate the gesture and ruined his plans, then he would have no one to blame but himself!

“Master Foster, why bother with all this? Why don’t we just go in directly!”

A cold laugh came from outside the door. With a loud bang, the doors were pushed open, and Charles Bennett strode in with a gust of wind, forcing his way inside.

“Charles Bennett?!”

Seeing the figure barging in from outside, David Foster was shaken to his core, almost unable to believe his eyes. He never would have imagined that the person entering was someone he absolutely did not expect.

“What’s wrong, Master Foster, not welcoming me?”

Charles Bennett smiled slightly, clearly pleased with David Foster’s shocked expression. Without waiting for David Foster to say anything, he pulled out a chair directly opposite David Foster and sat down.

Seeing Charles Bennett’s actions, David Foster’s eye twitched a few times, but he forced himself to suppress his displeasure and smiled faintly:

“What are you saying, Master Bennett? A guest is a guest; I, Foster, would never be so inhospitable.”

After all, as a scion of a great family, every move was generous and graceful, far beyond what ordinary noble families could compare to. At this moment, even Charles Bennett had to admire him a little.

In his previous life, it was no accident that David Foster held a leading position among the young nobles of the capital. At the very least, his shrewdness and outward poise were not something ordinary people could match.

Unfortunately, this time Charles Bennett had come precisely to cause trouble. And at this point, David Foster was still far from the illustrious achievements and status he would attain in the future.

“Hey, little sister, come here! Someone’s treating us to a feast, there’s so much delicious food—third brother never lies to you!”

Without turning his head, Charles Bennett waved to someone behind him.

“Really?”

With a crisp, childish voice, and under the astonished gazes of everyone present, a round little face peeked in from behind the wooden door, big eyes blinking curiously as she stared into the room, her gaze quickly drawn to the table full of delicacies.

“Wow, it’s true!”

The little girl’s face was full of amazement. She stepped over the threshold without a care, walked in, sat down next to Charles Bennett, grabbed a fragrant chicken drumstick, and started devouring it.

As for the guests filling the hall, she ignored them completely. She didn’t care about any of that—if her brother said it was fine, then it was fine.

Everything else, she couldn’t be bothered to think about.

“Mmm, delicious! So good!…”

Little Emily Bennett was a natural-born big eater; though small, her “appetite” was anything but. She finished off a whole chicken drumstick in just a few bites, smacking her lips as she ate, and the bones she spat out were picked clean, even the marrow chewed to bits.

The dishes at Guanghelou were famous throughout the capital for their color, aroma, and taste, whether steamed, boiled, roasted, braised, blanched, or stir-fried—each was exquisitely prepared.

Although she usually ate well at home, it was nothing compared to the refinement of Guanghelou. Little Emily Bennett was “overjoyed,” feeling that her brother was truly the best, so she let loose and ate to her heart’s content, her hands and mouth covered in oil.

In just a short while after entering the room, she had already polished off two plates. Her eating style and “capacity” made David Foster, sitting across from her, twitch his eyelids.

It wasn’t that he cared about a few “plates”—after all, Guanghelou belonged to his family, and they could eat as much as they wanted. But it was obvious these two siblings were here to cause trouble.

If Little Emily Bennett kept eating at the table like this, who else would have any appetite? This gathering was bound to be ruined sooner or later; in fact, David Foster could already sense the change in the atmosphere at the banquet.

If it were any other time, it wouldn’t matter, but this was a gathering he had organized to win over the young nobles of the capital—a crucial first step for him. How could he let it be ruined by these two brats?

“Your sister is truly straightforward and adorable! Master Bennett, since guests are guests, how about this: today, I, Foster, will be the host and arrange another table for you at Guanghelou. All food and drink, every expense, will be on me. What do you think?”

David Foster still showed not the slightest hint of displeasure, instead remaining as charming and persuasive as ever, as if he had no idea that Charles Bennett and his sister were here to cause trouble.

This poise earned the secret admiration of all the young nobles present! Just from this, one could see that the The Foster Residence’s family style was far above that of ordinary households in the capital.

Charles Bennett had been watching David Foster’s expression the whole time; the twitch at the corner of David Foster’s eye did not escape him. He knew his strategy was already working.