Thanks to Raymond Ford's reminder, he finally recalled that it was that illegitimate child from two years ago. Only then did he slowly remember the scene when he first met William two years back. That child was indeed a bit different from the rest. He wondered how he was doing now? To think that Albert Howard had praised him, which made him eager to meet William as well.

At this moment, the door opened, and William quickly walked in from outside. He obediently knelt down, kowtowed three times to Thomas Harris, and then once to Albert Howard, clearly distinguishing between host and guest.

“Grandson William greets Grandfather and pays respects to Chancellor Gao!”

Thomas Harris gently stroked his long beard, nodding to himself in approval. “This child even pays attention to such details as kowtowing. No wonder Albert Howard said he is well-mannered. Not bad!”

He immediately said with a beaming smile, “Good child, get up!”

William stood up. Thomas Harris sized him up carefully again, noticing his tall and sturdy build. Although his skin was very fair, he did not appear weak or frail; instead, he was full of vigor and looked powerful all over. No wonder he could take on six at once. Moreover, he seemed to be only five years old, yet looked like a seven- or eight-year-old. He remembered that when he first met this child two years ago, he already thought he was taller and bigger than most. He truly was a promising talent.

“William, Grandfather hasn’t been managing you these past two years. What have you been learning?”

William bowed respectfully and replied, “Reporting to Grandfather, your grandson has been studying and practicing calligraphy in the residence, and in his spare time, he goes to the training grounds to watch the martial instructors teach the household guards martial arts.”

Beside him, Albert Howard heard William speak clearly and logically, and couldn’t help but ask, “William, have you studied the Analects?”

William quickly replied, “Reporting to Chancellor, I finished studying the Analects last year, and also completed the Book of Songs. I am currently learning to write poetry.”

William was not lying. Since last month, Evelyn Brooks had started trying to teach them to write short poems. Although William knew quite a bit about later Tang and Song poetry, when it came to writing his own, it was a complete mess, and he wasn’t interested in poetry at all.

Albert Howard, hearing that he had learned so much, wanted to test him a bit. He smiled slightly, “Since you’re learning to write poetry, have you composed any poems?”

William hesitated a little. He had written two poems, and although he felt they were decent, his aunt said what he wrote weren’t poems but just a jumble of words. If he really presented them, he might embarrass his grandfather. But he also felt it shameful to plagiarize poems from later generations.

He sneaked a glance at Thomas Harris, who was stroking his beard and smiling without speaking, as if he didn’t care, but his eyes were full of eagerness and a hint of nervousness. Just as Raymond Ford had said, Grandfather was waiting for him to bring honor to the family.

He knew that his grandfather Thomas Harris cared deeply about face. If he messed up today and embarrassed Thomas Harris, he might never get another chance to stand out. On the other hand, if he succeeded today, he could take the opportunity to request to begin martial training, something he had been hoping for a year and a half. The thought of finally being able to learn martial arts made him excited.

Since writing poetry was just a means to an end, a stepping stone to achieving his wish, why care so much about whether the poem was his own? The key was martial training. As long as he could achieve his goal, not to mention plagiarizing a poem or two from the Tang dynasty—even if he claimed all three hundred Tang poems as his own, he would feel no guilt.

With his hands behind his back, he paced step by step, as if imitating Cao Zhi composing a poem in seven steps. In reality, he was considering which poem would be best. This was still the era of ancient-style poetry; he couldn’t just recite Tang or Song poems off the cuff, as he didn’t yet have the status to establish a new school.

Last month, he had actually compiled more than a dozen poems, originally wanting to show off to his aunt, but in the end gave up. His aunt knew his true abilities better than anyone and would never believe he wrote them. But today, he could give it a try.

He remembered there was one poem that fit the occasion, but after more than a month, he had forgotten parts of it. He paced, far more than seven steps—at least thirty—before finally recalling it.

“May I begin now?” he tilted his head and asked Albert Howard.

Albert Howard, finding him adorable, smiled and nodded, “Go ahead! I’m all ears.”

William didn’t recite the poem directly, but started with a warm-up. He recited loudly, “Goose, goose, goose, stretching its neck and singing to the sky. White feathers float on green water, red webbed feet stir clear waves.”

This was a poem written by Luo Binwang at the age of seven, which matched his current age. Albert Howard chuckled and praised, “Not bad, very childlike!”

Thomas Harris still smiled without speaking, but felt a bit disappointed. Although this poem was fresh and lively, it lacked a certain boldness. He had hoped his grandson would compose a poem with the spirit of conquering the Turks, something that would leave Albert Howard speechless, rather than just being called childlike.

Thomas Harris had always been competing with Albert Howard in secret. Albert Howard was talented in both civil and military affairs, and his ability to govern the country far surpassed his own. Not only that, but Albert Howard’s sons were all outstanding. His eldest son, Martin Howard, was exceptionally learned and had married the crown prince Brian Harris’s daughter a few years ago, which made Thomas Harris quite jealous, as most of his own sons and grandsons were mediocre.

It was rare for Albert Howard to praise one of his grandsons for having boldness, so he hoped William could bring him honor and suppress Albert Howard’s momentum. But William’s goose poem left him very disappointed.

Thomas Harris couldn’t help but ask, “William, do you have any other poems?”

William quickly bowed and replied, “Reporting to Grandfather, this goose poem was a playful work from a year ago, but recently I have been thinking about military achievements and wrote a poem to express my aspirations. I was just worried Chancellor Gao might not be interested.”

“You little rascal, when have I ever not been interested?”