Robert Bennett coughed violently, while George Foster patted his back anxiously and said, “The doctor young master usually uses is in Suzhou Prefecture. Should I ride there at once and bring him here?”

“No… no need.”

Robert Bennett knew how troublesome and lingering this illness was. He took the cup of warm water handed to him by David Brooks, took a sip, and let out a long breath.

“Much better.”

George Foster glanced outside. “These people only care about merit, young master, don’t bother with them.”

“We need merit too.” Robert Bennett lowered his voice.

“Three enemy heads will be enough.” George Foster had asked the soldiers along the way and knew that three Wokou heads would be enough to redeem young master’s crime.

“And you?” Robert Bennett said with a smile.

“Me?” George Foster was dumbfounded.

This simpleton, always thinking for young master, had forgotten that he himself was also a criminal.

Robert Bennett smiled and patted his shoulder. “Three heads are enough, but what about you, Stone?”

“Young master.”

“Do you know what Ming dynasty civil officials are best at?”

“Um… being shameless?”

“No, what they’re best at is embezzlement.”

“Embezzlement?”

“Yes. Out of ten thousand shi of military grain, if they only embezzle thirty percent, that’s considered having a conscience. As for three enemy heads, do you believe they’d dare to embezzle all of them?”

“They wouldn’t dare!” George Foster glared and gripped his sword. “If anyone dares to embezzle young master’s heads, I’ll kill his whole family.”

It’s not my head… Robert Bennett wanted to smack this kid. “Those people, they even dare to fool the emperor. To them, I’m just a convict sent to the army, no different from a dead man.”

If needed, those people in Nanjing could turn Robert Bennett, his servant, and David Brooks into dead men at any time.

“‘A man’s wealth is his own undoing.’” Robert Bennett coughed dryly and sneered, “Chris Bolton thinks I’m planning for him, but my real intention is for us.”

“Then… are you confident, young master?” George Foster asked.

Robert Bennett shook his head. “Sixty percent, maybe!”

He was sixty percent confident he could teach the main Wokou force a lesson.

“Maocai, if this doesn’t work out…” Robert Bennett didn’t avoid David Brooks as he spoke, which made David Brooks both happy and worried.

He was happy that James didn’t treat him as an outsider, but worried that James only had sixty percent confidence.

Robert Bennett glanced at him. “If it doesn’t work, Chris Bolton will be the first to turn on us.”

Don’t be fooled by how Chris Bolton treats Robert Bennett like his own father right now. The moment there’s nothing more to gain, Chris Bolton will, without hesitation, sacrifice Robert Bennett for his own wealth and status.

“This is human nature.” Seeing David Brooks’s grim face, Robert Bennett teased, “What, regretting following me?”

David Brooks shook his head. “Without James, I’d be dead for sure.”

Fleeing without a fight when encountering the Wokou, and losing the prisoners—those above would have killed him.

“In one’s life, there are many things you have no confidence in.” Robert Bennett squinted his eyes. “But that’s what makes it exciting, isn’t it?”

Back in those years in South America, maneuvering between government troops and small American squads, he was always walking on a razor’s edge. Now, he’d found that same thrill again.

His body actually felt much better.

Truly, people are gluttons for punishment.

Robert Bennett got up and walked out of the house.

Chris Bolton and the others stopped, looking at Robert Bennett with some unease.

“How is Maocai?”

“I’m fine.” Robert Bennett nodded. “Ask if the scouts have returned?”

A glint appeared in Chris Bolton’s eyes. He turned and shouted, “Why haven’t you gone to ask yet?”

David Brooks thought to himself: If not for James being here, I’d bet Chris Bolton wouldn’t dare go near the coast at all. With people like this defending the Ming borders… how long can we last?

He felt extremely uncomfortable and anxious, but when he saw the calm expression on Robert Bennett’s face, his courage surged again.

There are always heroes in Ming.

He’d heard storytellers say that whenever the Central Plains was in crisis, there would always be heroes among the Han who would step forward to give this troubled land a new lease on life.

The scouts had returned.

“The Wokou are just off the coast of Nanhui Spit.”

“Good!” Chris Bolton’s face flushed. He turned to look at Robert Bennett, his eyes full of worry and eagerness.

“Maocai.”

Everyone looked at Robert Bennett.

Behind Robert Bennett stood David Brooks and George Foster, both gripping their swords, making Robert Bennett appear especially dignified. “The word ‘bandit’ in Wokou means they take advantage when they can and retreat when there’s trouble. If we march out openly, even if the Wokou don’t retreat, they won’t land.”

This was Songjiang Prefecture, densely populated and economically prosperous. Without first probing the Ming army’s strength, who knew if there were ambushes behind Chris Bolton’s forces?

“So…” Chris Bolton’s tone was very gentle, as if seeking advice.

“So,” Robert Bennett replied calmly, as if he were back in South America, facing his own band of armed lieutenants, “what we need to do next is lure the enemy ashore.”

In terms of real combat, vision, and adaptability, these commanders before him were only fit to carry Robert Bennett’s shoes.

“Send a small force to lure the enemy, keep the main force on the flank to support, and once the Wokou land, cut off their retreat… Also, someone can be sent to Shanghai for reinforcements, so that a large force can encircle the Wokou.” Brian Walker finished and glanced at the others.