Thomas Bolton happily pulled out his hand, then looked at the crab clamped onto his finger and said proudly, “David Foster, my skills aren’t bad, right?”

William Foster looked a bit dejectedly at his empty hands and said, “Alright, since you want to mooch a meal, hurry up and catch some fish. We’ll make fish soup for lunch.”

An hour later, both William Foster and Thomas Bolton were almost completely soaked. The two of them carried their nets, swaggering triumphantly back home.

As they entered the main courtyard, William Foster saw two burly men standing outside the door—very imposing figures.

But at this moment, the two big men were staring, dumbfounded, at Thomas Bolton’s clothes, as if they’d seen a ghost.

Poor kid!

William Foster glanced back at Thomas Bolton, who looked a bit uncomfortable, reached out and hooked his arm around his shoulder, and said, “Thomas, in both civil and martial pursuits, there must be a balance between work and rest. You’re still young, don’t lose your happiness too soon.”

Thomas Bolton was stunned for a moment, then responded with an “mm” and followed William Foster to the back courtyard.

At this time, not just anyone could enter the back courtyard; it was a place that required propriety.

“You’re still a kid, what’s there to be shy about! Hurry up and come take a bath with me, then change into some clean clothes.”

William Foster figured this kid must have been strictly managed by his parents since childhood, so he hadn’t had any fun as a child. That’s why he’d just spent half the day playing by the river with him.

When he saw Grace Bolton, Thomas Bolton blushed bright red and quickly called out, “Sister-in-law.”

But William Foster said carelessly, “Grace, this is Thomas Bolton. Hurry and prepare two sets of clothes, we’re going to bathe.”

Grace Bolton was momentarily stunned, then bowed and went to the back, and soon a maid came out.

The bathhouse was very simple, just a wooden hut with two wooden tubs in the middle.

Lying in the tub, William Foster said contentedly, “Thomas, just wait another half a month, and my bathhouse will be much fancier.”

He was planning to make some cement, then build a pool lined with big bluestones. Just thinking about it made him happy!

Thomas Bolton looked at William Foster with a complicated expression. In these times, unless you were close enough to stab each other twice, no one would be this casual.

After bathing, William Foster enthusiastically took Thomas Bolton to the kitchen.

As soon as Rose saw William Foster, her plump face broke into a trembling smile.

“Young master, what would you like to eat today?”

William Foster glanced at the stove and said, “Rose, today I’ll make two dishes myself.”

Rose panicked when she heard this and hurriedly tried to dissuade him, “Young master, you’re a literary star, how can you cook! Didn’t Confucius say, ‘A gentleman stays away from the kitchen’?”

“A gentleman stays away from the kitchen.”

Thomas Bolton was also a bit surprised. Among today’s scholars, with William Foster’s status, he was probably the only one in all of Ming who would still cook himself.

William Foster dismissed it, saying, “What ‘a gentleman stays away from the kitchen’? That’s just men making up Confucius’ words to fool women. It’s not to be taken seriously.”

Seeing that Rose was still reluctant, William Foster laughed and said, “Your young master isn’t one of those hypocrites. That ‘a gentleman stays away from the kitchen’—even if such a person became the top scholar, he’d just be a rice worm.”

As he spoke, William Foster skillfully slit open the fish’s belly, cleaned out the innards, and finally dealt with the crab. After removing the gills, he cooked it together with the fish for soup.

Soon, a rich aroma filled the air. Thomas Bolton felt a bit empty in his stomach. He licked his lips, pushed Benjamin aside, and stuffed a few handfuls of firewood into the stove.

“Cough, cough, cough!”

A cloud of smoke billowed from under the stove. William Foster happened to be ladling out the fish soup, and when he saw the soot-covered Thomas Bolton, he couldn’t help but laugh, “Kid, that’s not how you build a fire.”

Thomas Bolton stubbornly pointed at the stove, thinking that William Foster definitely couldn’t build a fire.

The son of a Ministry of Personnel official, a young scholar of renown—being able to make fish soup was already impressive, but could he really build a fire?

William Foster just smiled and said nothing. He used the fire poker to clear out the bottom of the stove, and the flames immediately leapt up.

“People need loyalty, fire needs a hollow heart.”

Thomas Bolton squatted to the side, a bit dazed as he watched the blazing flames.

“Benjamin, lower the fire a bit, I’m going to fry some peanuts.”

“Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!”

A little oil was poured into the pan, then the peanuts. Once the oil was hot enough, William Foster casually stirred them.

“Peanuts are ready!”

After taking the peanuts out of the pan, he mixed them with a bit of salt—this was a perfect snack to go with wine!

The rest of the dishes were Rose’s specialty. William Foster clapped his hands and took Thomas Bolton to the living room.

Since there were guests, Grace Bolton and Little White ate in the side hall.

Once all the dishes were ready, William Foster personally brought half a bowl of peanuts and a bowl of fish soup over, then came back.

Thomas Bolton had a strange expression. Seeing this, William Foster laughed and said, “So-called real men don’t earn their reputation by dominating women. Respecting women is also a kind of cultivation. Thomas, you’re still young, don’t learn from those so-called scholars—they’re all pedantic fools.”

This was already the third time William Foster had spoken so disdainfully about scholars. Thomas Bolton hesitated for a moment and asked, “David Foster, but aren’t women ultimately dependent on men to live?”

“Nonsense!”

William Foster glanced sideways at Thomas Bolton and said, “Isn’t your mother a woman?”