“It's a pity that Sam Walker isn't qualified to come in, otherwise he would definitely be stunned by this scenery.” With the full moon overhead and the shattered reflection of moonlight on the lake beneath his feet, it felt as if he were wandering through a fairyland.

Adam Sullivan really wanted to sing, and he hummed a tune: “I once saw, in Jinling, jade trees and orioles singing at dawn, the Qinhuai pavilions where flowers bloom early, who would have thought it would all melt away so easily! Watching him build his red mansion, watching him feast his guests, watching his mansion collapse. On these mossy green tiles, I once slept a romantic sleep, and witnessed fifty years of rise and fall. That Wuyi Lane, no longer the Wang family; Mochou Lake, ghosts weep at night; Phoenix Terrace, now perches only owls! The truest dreams are of ruined hills, the old scenes are hard to let go. If you don't believe the map has changed, I'll improvise a set of ‘Lament for Jiangnan’, and sing my sorrowful song till old age.”

Henry Clark asked, “What song are you singing?”

Adam Sullivan chuckled foolishly but said nothing. If this Eldest Young Master Clark knew he was singing such a song in front of his family's red mansion, he'd probably strangle him.

When they reached the round pavilion, Henry Clark quickly walked toward the dignified lady seated at the main seat. “Mother…”

Adam Sullivan's gaze, however, fell on Ethan beside the lady. Today, Ethan was clearly dressed up with care, and under the play of light and shadow, she looked even more charming. Adam Sullivan winked at Ethan, whose face turned red as she lowered her head to fiddle with her clothes.

“The little girl is shy.” Adam Sullivan felt secretly pleased, then shifted his gaze elsewhere. Sitting beside the lady was a poised young woman, her skin like ice and bones like jade, her gardenia-like face exuding a princess-like nobility and purity. Her cold, stunning beauty was like a lotus emerging from water.

“So this is Miss Clark. Last time I was too far away to see clearly, but up close she's even more beautiful than before.” Adam Sullivan was a little dazed as he looked.

But as his gaze moved away, he saw a man standing next to Miss Clark. The man had a mature, steady face with a warm smile, but his eagle-like eyes revealed a domineering look, and his strong build gave off an imposing aura.

“Why do I, a mere servant, feel this man is no good the moment I see him?” Adam Sullivan felt a pang of jealousy, and met the man's gaze with a challenge, but the other party clearly didn't take him seriously and didn't even look at him directly.

A little further out were several stewards. William Cooper gave Adam Sullivan an encouraging look. Another steward caught Adam Sullivan's attention; he looked to be around forty, had a goatee, and seemed very kind, with a subtle smile. Standing with him was a thin young man, whose complexion was a bit pale, but there was a faint air of pride about him. Clearly, though his family was poor, he was somewhat conceited.

Adam Sullivan walked up to the lady and said, “Good evening, madam.”

“Good.” The lady nodded slightly and said with a smile, “Everyone is here. The Duke's residence is not like an ordinary household. At this time every year, the Duke always goes to the palace to accompany His Majesty in admiring the moon.”

She paused and sighed, “While other families reunite, we never have a day of true togetherness. So I called you all here to liven things up. As it happens, the household needs a new page boy, and there are two promising candidates. Today, I'll set the ball rolling and have you two young talents compete.”

She pursed her lips, her gaze falling on the pale-faced youth, clearly very satisfied with him. She said, “William, you were the top scholar in the prefectural exam, and will surely achieve great things in the future. Serving as a humble page boy in this house won't disgrace you, will it?”

The youth replied politely, “To accompany the young master in his studies, how could William have any complaints?”

“Good, then let the first round begin.”

In the center of the pavilion were two desks, fully equipped with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

A steward announced loudly, “The first round is painting. Gentlemen, please prepare. The topic is: The Highest Mountain.”

The youth and Adam Sullivan walked to the center. Adam Sullivan cupped his hands, “I am Adam Sullivan.”

The youth smiled indifferently, “Just William Harris.”

Such politeness was, of course, only on the surface. Their eyes met, full of challenge.

William Harris prided himself as a prodigy, the top scholar in the prefectural exam, and naturally didn't regard a servant of the Zhou family as a rival. Without further ado, he immediately picked up a brush and began to paint swiftly on the white paper.

Adam Sullivan, on the other hand, was in no hurry. He picked up the brush slowly, but frowned.

“The highest mountain? What kind of mountain is the highest?” Clearly, this was not just a painting test, but more like an intelligence test.

Adam Sullivan glanced at William Harris's draft and saw that an outline had already taken shape. Adam Sullivan immediately recognized it as a depiction of Yin Peak by Liang Bai from the Jin Dynasty. This painting wasn't famous, but it captured the grandeur of Mount Heng. Among all the famous mountains, Mount Heng is the highest, so William Harris copying Liang Bai's Yin Peak was naturally painting the highest mountain.

“Should I draw Mount Everest? No, even if I did, no one would recognize it. But I can't just copy Yin Peak, or I'll be second-rate. Looks like I'll really have to rack my brains.”

On one side, the brush danced like a dragon and snake; on the other, Adam Sullivan hesitated, the difference clear at a glance.

Ethan and Henry Clark both looked a bit worried, especially Ethan, whose beautiful eyes were fixed on Adam Sullivan, her concern plain to see.

The lady looked at Adam Sullivan without betraying any emotion, then shifted her gaze to William Harris, a hint of admiration in her eyes.