The wine glass wasn’t big, so Ethan Brooks finished it in one gulp, then smacked his lips and stared eagerly at the wine bottle in William Foster’s hand.

This meal lasted until after five in the afternoon, almost time for dinner.

“Brother Dehua, I’ll be heading back now.”

Ethan Brooks, slurring his words, was still hugging the wine bottle with the label removed. He felt that just the aroma left in the bottle would be enough for a good dream.

“Like hell you’re going back!”

William Foster saw that he was staggering as he walked, so he immediately called Jason Foster over and arranged for this guy to sleep in the guest room.

“Mr. King!”

“Young master.”

Mr. King moved quickly, dashing from the outer courtyard straight to the study.

William Foster felt a bit dizzy. Rubbing his temples, he said, “Go to the Chen family and tell Uncle Chen that Jianzhong is sleeping at my place.”

Chapter 10 Thomas Bolton Pays a Visit

In the afternoon, Fang Family Manor was very quiet, with only the sound of a gentle breeze brushing over the land.

William Foster sat in the study, resting his chin on his hand, dozing off.

He was dreaming of punching Japanese pirates and kicking Mongols when a rush of hurried footsteps interrupted his pleasant dream.

“Young master, young master, someone named Thomas Bolton is here to see you.”

William Foster, annoyed at having his dream interrupted, just waved his hand and said, “Let him in.”

Even though the alcohol was still affecting his brain, William Foster forced himself to stay alert, rubbed his face, and put on a carefree, unbothered demeanor.

“Hahaha! Brother Dehua, my respects!”

William Foster still had his hand over his face. The voice sounded familiar, so he peeked through his fingers.

A young man in a brocade robe looked full of energy, wearing a finely crafted headpiece, folding fan closed in his hand, and greeted with a cupped-fist salute.

“And you are...?”

William Foster’s face was red from rubbing. He thought this young man looked somewhat familiar.

The young man smiled and said, “I am Thomas Bolton. A few days ago, I had a conversation with Brother Dehua by the manor’s edge—truly eye-opening! So today I’ve come to pay my respects, forgive my intrusion.”

Though he was all smiles, there was an imposing, unapproachable air about him—clearly not from an ordinary family.

William Foster slapped his forehead and said, “I remember now, the manor next door is yours, right?”

This was William Foster trying to play dumb, hoping to gloss over the incident where he refuted several scholars the other day.

Though his words were satisfying, in the current climate where most people opposed moving the capital, spreading them around would only make enemies.

After some polite small talk, they sat down. After Xiaobai served fragrant tea, Thomas Bolton glanced around the study and said, “Brother Dehua, I noticed you didn’t get to say everything you wanted the other day, so I’ve come today to ask for your advice on the matter of our dynasty moving the capital. I hope you won’t hold back.”

The words were polite, but there was a hint of insistence.

What a strong presence!

William Foster instantly guessed at this man’s identity, finally concluding he must be the son of an official involved in the capital relocation issue.

William Foster wanted to refuse, but then remembered that the Yongle Emperor’s reign would last a long time yet, so he could only sigh and pretend, “Pedantic scholars ruin the country!”

Thomas Bolton listened with a smile.

Such a lofty bearing made William Foster, who came from humble origins, a bit envious.

William Foster dipped his finger in tea and drew a circle on the table, roughly matching the territory of Ming. Then he drew a line, and finally marked out Jinling, raising his head to look at Thomas Bolton.

Thomas Bolton frowned, tapping his palm with his folding fan. After a while, he said, “Brother Dehua, you mean... it’s too far?”

“Exactly!”

William Foster then marked the location of Beiping and said, “If our dynasty doesn’t move the capital, I guarantee that within fifty years, the nine border regions will be in ruins.”

William Foster’s expression was full of concern for the country and the people, looking as if he was ready to risk everything for Ming. In truth, he did support moving the capital.

If the capital wasn’t moved, who knows—he might not even be dead yet when the steppe tribes would invade Beiping. Where would he run then?

Thomas Bolton pointed at Jinling with his folding fan, looking puzzled. “Brother Dehua, if our dynasty doesn’t move the capital, even if there’s a warning from the north, the capital can still mobilize the army for support, can’t it?”

Mobilizing troops from Jinling, that is, from the south, was a popular argument at the time.

William Foster saw Mr. King lingering at the door, looking wary, and smiled, “That’s just wishful thinking!”

Still young, Thomas Bolton looked shocked and asked anxiously, “Brother Dehua, what do you mean by that?”

William Foster was feeling the urge to pee, so he blurted out, “From Jinling to Beiping is thousands of miles. By the time reinforcements arrive, the north will already be in ruins.”

“Thomas, I need to change clothes, wait a moment!”

After William Foster finished his business, he found Mr. King standing guard outside the latrine, watching the main gate warily.

“Young master, that Thomas Bolton brought two attendants. Interesting.”

Mr. King, one hand on his Tang saber, reported his findings to William Foster.

Interesting?

That means they’re experts!

William Foster fished a mint candy from his pouch, popped one in his mouth, and tossed two to Mr. King.

“Give them to Daniu later.”