Ethan Brooks's face was livid with rage. After holding it in for a long time, he could only grit his teeth and say, "Honest advice is hard to accept; if His Majesty punishes me, a hundred years from now, future generations will prove my innocence."

Since ancient times, those blindly loyal have loved to say such things. He shook his head. "When idle, you curse the court; when in danger, you die for your country. You bookworms are rotten to the core."

As he spoke, he pointed to the papers on the ground. "I speak, you write."

Ethan Brooks sneered, "You think I don't know the tricks of the Dian Kui Office? Framing me? Wishful thinking."

"If you don't write, I'll throw your daughter in here too, let her keep you company."

William Carter spread his hands, smiling casually.

Ethan Brooks instantly flew into a rage. "You dare! What has Jingliu done wrong? On what grounds do you arrest her?"

"You've done nothing wrong either, yet here you are."

The cell fell silent.

William Carter directly obeyed the emperor's orders to arrest people—what need was there for a reason? The nickname 'Overlord of the Capital' wasn't self-proclaimed.

Ethan Brooks's face turned crimson, his body trembling slightly.

After a long while, he reached out, grabbed the brush, and gritted his teeth. "You think a single sheet of paper can ruin my spotless reputation?"

"Listen carefully...."

The gray-haired Ethan Brooks dipped the brush in ink, preparing to write the words that would bring him infamy for generations.

But as soon as William Carter spoke the first line, Ethan Brooks was stunned.

It was a poem!

Looking up at William Carter, Ethan Brooks's eyes were full of confusion.

William Carter sat on the straw, posture lazy, but his words were forceful and clear.

Ethan Brooks's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.

The brush in his hand trembled slightly. He hesitated for a long time, but dared not write a single word.

If he wrote, he could live.

But if it was discovered, he would be disgraced for eternity.

Not write?

As long as the William Carter before him kept silent, he would be remembered for the ages. The lifelong pursuit of a scholar was right before his eyes.

Ethan Brooks struggled and hesitated for a long time, still unable to put brush to paper.

After finishing, William Carter said softly, "To be honest, you don't deserve this poem. But to save your life, I'll let you have it. Once you're out, retire to your hometown and never cause me trouble again."

Ethan Brooks's body trembled slightly. Looking into William Carter's eyes, his expression was a mix of emotions.

After a long while, the gray-haired Ethan Brooks bowed deeply:

"Thank you, young master, for your great kindness!"

"No need, thank your daughter instead!"

William Carter stood up, patted the dust off his backside, and let out a sigh of relief.

At last, the first mess was cleaned up.

Speaking of which, this matter was somewhat related to how he ended up here, but to explain that, we have to turn back the clock fifteen days...

"Take it off!"

Bianjing, Marquis Wu'an's Mansion.

Night rain outside the building, splendid lanterns inside the pavilion.

A young man in white leaned lazily on a soft couch, holding a folding fan, his gaze arrogant. Six characters were written on the fan:

Since ancient times, sword immortals are sentimental

Incense smoke curled in the room. A woman stood by the window of the pavilion, her shoulders narrow, hips round, figure alluring, but her face was filled with unspeakable grief and anger.

She did not obey and untie her silk skirt, but instead rebuked sternly, "Cao the scoundrel, you rely on imperial favor to commit all manner of evil. Even if His Majesty does not punish you, Heaven will surely take you, villain."

As she finished, the woman pulled out her hairpin and stabbed at her own throat. Having said these words, she was already prepared to die.

The young man in white's gaze was cold and proud. He flicked the wine cup on the table, and a droplet of water shot out, knocking the jade hairpin from her hand.

In front of the Overlord of the Capital, even dying swiftly was a luxury.

Knowing her innocence could not be preserved, the woman's face turned ashen.

Crack!

At that moment, perhaps Heaven opened its eyes—a sudden clap of thunder exploded out of nowhere, striking the young man in white.

Under the vast might of heaven, the young man in white fell, twisted, and rolled. In just a moment, he was motionless.

"Dead?"

The woman collapsed to the floor, eyes full of disbelief, then wild joy.

Unfortunately, she soon discovered that the scholar in white's slender fingers were gripping the edge of the small table.

"Uh..."

William Carter woke up from being struck by lightning, his mind muddled. Rubbing his forehead, he looked up to see an antique setting—not his own office.

Before he could wonder, he saw a woman in ancient dress weeping and trying to kill herself with a hairpin. Seeing she was about to die, he couldn't care about his surroundings and lunged forward to grab her hand:

"Hey miss, don't do anything foolish..."

In the urgent situation, he just wanted to stop the suicidal woman, naturally not paying attention to propriety between men and women. But in the woman's eyes, it was a different story.

The humiliated woman was pinned to the ground, her slender body almost unable to breathe under the pressure.

Chaste by nature, she had never suffered such humiliation. In shame and anger, she said, "I'd rather die than yield to a villain like you." Struggling desperately but unable to break free, she could only bite his wrist.

"Ow... are you a dog?"

William Carter ignored the pain and pressed down even harder, almost locking the crazy woman in a cross-hold.

Soon, footsteps thundered outside the room, armor clanking. The door was kicked open, and eight black-armored soldiers burst in.

Seeing him wrestling with someone, the eight soldiers drew their swords and rushed forward, intending to seize the woman.

Newly arrived in this strange place, William Carter saw several burly men with drawn swords charging at him fiercely. He quickly raised his hand and shouted, "What are you doing?!"

The eight black-armored soldiers halted, dropped to their knees with a thud, and pressed their heads to the ground, silent as cicadas in winter.