Han’er was actually only a year older than the other girls, but she was already mature beyond her age, working part-time as a housekeeper, coachman, guard, and more. Aside from being a bit ruthless, she was truly a very capable young lady. It was just that Lucy Frost's admiration for him was obvious—no matter what he said, she took it as gospel. Sometimes, when wandering around, he would even see Lucy Frost holding a little notebook, recording things he had said before, filled with annotations like “at the shop,” “graduated from the drama academy,” and so on. It seemed she didn’t really understand but thought there was deep meaning, and, not daring to ask, could only ponder it herself.

Naturally, he would never explain.

As night deepened, all three maids had already gone to bed. Lucy Frost lived in the neighboring courtyard, while Edward Hall and Grace Green took turns waiting on him in the side room of his courtyard. Whenever Edward Hall slept in the side room, he could always hear the sound of a little mouse nibbling on snacks. The sound was very faint, but his hearing was extremely sharp—he could even tell whether she was eating sunflower seeds or pastries.

Of course, he would never stop her; he just found it amusing. If he were to cough, he figured he might choke the little maid to death.

The study was spacious and tranquil, with only a few pieces of furniture and nothing else—no decorative items at all. Only a snow-white longsword sat on the desk by the wall, a sword bestowed by the emperor, serving much the same purpose as the imperial sword of authority.

He sat alone at the desk, reflecting on the past few days. He had been assassinated once, knocked out twice—nothing good had happened. He had no clue about running a shop or doing business. Just showing his face could scare a girl into suicide, and even his personal maids didn’t dare joke around in front of him. To be honest, life was getting a bit too dull.

After thinking for a while, he picked up the folding fan from the desk.

“Sword immortals have always been sentimental... and still such an edgelord...”

He curled his lips in a faint smile and carefully peeled off the fan’s surface with a paper knife.

He used to be in the jewelry business, relying on his craftsmanship to make a living, starting from scratch and eventually owning a chain of jewelry stores—all thanks to his skillful hands. When he first made his fortune, he wasn’t above a little trickery and forgery; his craftsmanship was so good it could pass for the real thing.

His previous body couldn’t do martial arts, but his hands were exceptionally skilled—threading a needle with his eyes closed was basic, and if he wanted, he could even carve the entire “Lanting Preface” on a grain of rice.

This body, though highly skilled in martial arts, had fingers that were too strong from years of training, making it hard to handle delicate work. If he wanted to open a shop and do business, he’d have to slowly retrain his old skills.

In no time, he had peeled off the fan’s surface intact. He took out a sheet of xuan paper, thought for a moment, and wrote with a brush: I am a good person!—four characters, plus an exclamation mark.

He had often engraved ancient inscriptions on jade and gold objects before, and his calligraphy was decent—he could imitate the handwriting of various calligraphy masters, though it was all form and no spirit.

The fan had two sides. After finishing the front, he frowned, pondered for a long time, and then wrote another four characters.

After finishing, Master Carter nodded in satisfaction, a hint of pride on his face...

===Chapter 9: The Governor’s Daily Life (Part 2)===

At dawn.

William Carter woke up in his hundred-zhang mansion, washed and dressed with the help of gentle maids, and rode to work in an imperial, carved palanquin carried by eight strong men, accompanied by over a hundred lackeys.

The Dian Kui Department was half a street away from the Marquis’s residence; it would only take the time to drink a cup of tea to walk there. But after having been kidnapped before, he no longer dared to stroll over openly—he had to keep up appearances.

The Dian Kui Department had three thousand people: two thousand imperial guards and a thousand spies, with thirty captains and three deputy commanders—a simplified version of the Jinyiwei.

The governor was a nominal position. In theory, his post was that of an inner official—in simple terms, his records were kept in the palace, and he served as a close attendant to the emperor alongside palace maids and eunuchs. Unlike outer court officials, he had no right to attend court or participate in politics. The so-called eunuch faction was led by Henry Bennett and David Turner; David Turner was in charge of the Western City Office, Henry Bennett managed the Dian Kui Department, and he was the successor groomed by Henry Bennett.

By rights, he should have been a eunuch, but Henry Bennett wanted to continue his bloodline and, using the excuse that a physical disability would hinder martial arts training, managed to keep the young William Carter intact. This reason was accepted by the emperor, Zhao Jie, who valued William Carter's ability to take on a hundred men alone and had no shortage of eunuchs to serve him. For this, he even bestowed a treasured sword engraved with “Martial Peace Under Heaven,” allowing him to handle affairs outside the palace with full legitimacy.

However, David Turner, one of the Six Villains of the Northern Song, seemed to have some complaints about this.

His daily work was to review the reports sent by the spies and judge whether any investigation was necessary—for example, if a certain official suddenly appeared somewhere he usually didn’t go, or if someone met with someone else and talked for half an hour.

To discern whether there was any conspiracy behind all this messy information required experience and intuition honed from a young age—something he naturally lacked, so he left it all to Lucy Frost to analyze.

At noon, after having lunch in the study, he had to arrange for the Black Feather Guards on duty to drill—five-step, thirteen-spear, tumbling fist, and so on. He didn’t know any of it, so he could only have the deputy commander on duty lead the exercises.

Of the three deputy commanders in the Dian Kui Department, the head of the Eagle Claw Division was named Peter Reed, an old codger who sat outside the department’s main gate every day pretending to be a doorman, specializing in scaring the messengers who came to deliver reports.