William Foster wanted to take over the family affairs, but in these times, men handled external matters while women managed the household. Since he wasn’t married yet, these affairs still had to be handled by Jason Foster.

Jason Foster furtively glanced around, then looked warily at Little White. Only after William Foster cleared his throat did he lower his voice and say, “Young master, that box has been sold!”

“Oh!” William Foster perked up. “How much did it sell for?”

Jason Foster held up three fingers, and William Foster could clearly see the dirt under his nails.

“Thirty taels?”

“Young master…”

Jason Foster felt that answer was an insult to his loyalty.

A look of pleasant surprise flashed in William Foster’s eyes. “Could it be three hundred taels?”

Jason Foster stomped his foot in delight and said, “It was three hundred and forty taels!”

Damn!

William Foster felt a bit dizzy. You have to know, a single tael of silver these days could buy almost four shi of rice—eight or nine hundred jin!

“And that’s just the first one!”

Jason Foster said with great confidence, “Young master, the first one was sold cheap. Once our reputation spreads, this box of ours will sell for at least three hundred and sixty taels!”

William Foster felt faint for a moment, then said, “Steward, go buy some dowry items for Miss Bolton first, then deal with the rest.”

Good things shouldn’t be sold all at once; you have to sell them sparingly.

Over three hundred taels of silver was a timely blessing for Fang Family Village.

With money in hand, William Foster casually ordered, “Steward, buy some cloth for the tenants. It doesn’t have to be expensive—one set per person for each household!”

Jason Foster hesitated a bit and said, “Young master, we’re not like the neighboring village. There’s no need to do this!”

Young master! You’re such a spendthrift!

William Foster touched his nose and said gently but firmly, “Steward, isn’t my recovery a good thing?”

“Of course it’s a good thing, I…”

Jason Foster understood. The young master was trying to win people’s hearts and celebrate his own recovery at the same time.

“This old servant will get right on it.”

After the steward left, William Foster immediately slipped into the space.

Time in this space really seemed to be frozen. William Foster was no longer amazed that the cup of coffee in the office was still steaming.

There was still a lot of space in this office building, but William Foster clearly had no intention of searching for things.

The endless warehouses and goods, and those stacked shipping containers—just these alone would be hard to explore one by one.

Today, William Foster opened three more containers. One was filled with “fruit phones”—basically useless junk. But the other two gave William Foster a pleasant surprise: they were full of knives.

“The Atlanta Knife Show?”

Inside these two containers were all kinds of knives: Japanese katanas, Tang swords, longswords, and even double-bladed axes…

These were probably knives shipped over for the knife show and for sale.

Tsk tsk!

William Foster felt a bit regretful. In this era under Emperor Yongle’s rule, unless you had a lot of firearms, it was best to just live your life quietly.

After cutting his finger while testing a blade, William Foster only took out a short knife and a Tang sword.

“Young master, what’s that on your finger?”

Little White came in and immediately noticed the thing on William Foster’s left thumb.

Can I tell you it’s a band-aid?

“I was just messing around, that’s all.”

The short knife hanging at the head of the bed had already tasted blood.

Damn! So sharp!

Tonight, young master, I want to drink!

That night, William Foster had chicken stewed with ginseng. Ginseng wasn’t that famous yet in these times, so the price was still acceptable.

As for the chicken, William Foster had dragged out a frozen one from inside.

There was no other way—the chickens in the village were all laying hens, and the roosters were needed for crowing. Any extras had long been used by William Foster to nourish his health.

The chicken was a bit tough, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Smells so good!”

Little White was serving at the side, smelling the aroma of wine in the air, and felt like he wanted a sip himself.

“Moutai really is fragrant!”

Chapter 7: The Wedding and the Scholar

A burst of trumpets, a small bridal sedan.

The wedding was rather quiet, with only Ethan Brooks’s father, James Brooks, as a guest, and he even officiated William Foster’s wedding.

“Madam.”

“Husband.”

“What tender skin!”

“……”

On the wedding night, as the window pasted with the big red “double happiness” character reflected the first hint of white, the red candle also went out.

Long eyelashes trembled. Grace Bolton secretly opened her eyes, a heavy breath falling on her face, making her a bit flustered.

“Shuhui.”

Those hands tightened again, and then the heat pressed closer.

“Husband.”

The bed began to shake again. Outside, Little White listened to the sounds, her face flushed red, feeling her whole body burning.

……

Breakfast was simple, but not so simple.

Fragrant rice porridge with longan and lotus seeds, crab meat soup dumplings, braised salmon…

As soon as they sat down, William Foster took out a key and handed it to Grace Bolton. “Shuhui, from now on, you’ll be in charge of keeping all my things.”

Grace Bolton’s face was very red. She lowered her head and replied, “Yes, husband.”