Henry Bolton glanced back and saw The Bolton Residence's servant Frank Bolton running over from the riverbank. As he approached, he panted and said, "Third Young Master, the Old Madam sent me to find you. She says there is an urgent matter at the residence and asks you to return at once."

Henry Bolton frowned and looked at Frank Bolton coolly. "What is it?"

Frank Bolton stepped forward, lowered his voice, and whispered, "Third Young Master, news from the palace says His Majesty is furious... The two old masters have already brought gifts to Mr. Thompson's residence to beg for help. The Old Madam wants you to return home immediately..."

Hearing this, Henry Bolton drew in a sharp breath and couldn't help but stamp his foot. He grew anxious and cursed inwardly, thinking, Didn't I tell you all to stay calm and wait? Why did you suddenly change your minds?

They actually went to beg Edward Thompson for help—what a childish and laughable move!

Edward Thompson was the instigator in the first place. Right now, he can't wait to stir up more trouble to bring down the Crown Prince Hank Thompson. Why would he care about Samuel Bolton's petty affair?

But whether Edward Thompson cares or not is one thing; The Bolton Family taking the initiative to seek refuge with The Thompson Family is another. No matter the outcome, The Bolton Family could end up entangled with the soon-to-be-destroyed Edward Thompson, becoming a thorn in the side of John Young and others, and suffering disastrous consequences!

This is no baseless worry. If Edward Thompson was a powerful but scheming minister, he at least played by some rules; but his "successor" John Young is a true petty villain, ruthless and lawless. Otherwise, the historical Edward Thompson would not have met such a tragic end, with his entire family exiled and many implicated.

What a mess! Now, Henry Bolton was left with no way out, forced onto a path of desperate risk.

Chapter 009: The Poetry and Wine Banquet at Qujiang Pool (3)

Henry Bolton silently raised his head to the sky. The scorching summer sun hung high overhead, its brilliant rays pouring down, making him momentarily dizzy and dazed. However, he was no longer the ignorant and idle wastrel he once was at The Bolton Residence; his mind was resolute and calm in the face of danger. He quickly adjusted his plans and made up his mind once more.

If you don't risk the child, you can't catch the wolf. Might as well go all the way... A flash of ruthless determination appeared in Henry Bolton's eyes.

"Frank Bolton, I still have things to do. Go back and tell the Old Madam that I'll be there soon and absolutely won't cause any trouble outside. Go on." Henry Bolton waved his hand and said in a deep voice.

Frank Bolton hesitated, unwilling to leave. Henry Bolton, growing impatient, snapped, "You dog, didn't you hear what I said? Get back home, now!"

"Yes, Third Young Master." Frank Bolton mumbled, not daring to say more. He bowed and left, dejected.

Watching Frank Bolton leave, Henry Bolton immediately turned back, calming his slightly disordered emotions. In an instant, he regained his composure and poise.

Panic is useless; it only makes you a laughingstock. Why bother?

Smiling, Henry Bolton prepared to enter the garden. But as he glanced back, he spotted a few familiar faces not far away.

One of his former "close friends"—the second son of the Minister of Justice, Simon Foster, named Philip Foster—was swaggering over with a few other Chang'an dandies, laughing and chatting as they strolled behind Henry Bolton.

Philip Foster had actually seen Henry Bolton long ago, but pretended not to notice.

With Samuel Bolton in trouble, even if The Bolton Family escaped disaster, they would never recover. His father, Simon Foster, had repeatedly warned him not to associate with Henry Bolton anymore. Their relationship was always just about drinking and feasting, with no real friendship. Now that The Bolton Family was in trouble, Philip Foster naturally changed his attitude and drew a clear line between himself and Henry Bolton.

Of course, Philip Foster was far from the only one with such thoughts.

Philip Foster had no intention of acknowledging Henry Bolton, but as he drew near and saw Henry Bolton's face—far more handsome and refined than his own—he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, which quickly turned into a desire to kick a man when he's down.

So he stopped, put on airs, and stared at Henry Bolton with an overbearing look, waving his delicate folding fan. He said coldly to his own servant, "Tell that man ahead to get out of the way. We are going into the garden."

The few young noblemen clustered around Philip Foster also pretended not to recognize Henry Bolton, looking down on him with condescending sneers.

Two servants from The Foster Residence rushed forward, shouting, "Move aside, move aside! Our Second Young Master of The Foster Family and the other young masters are going into the garden. Don't block the way!"

Standing behind Henry Bolton, Brian Bolton was indignant and glared at the two servants from The Foster Residence, about to say something. But seeing his own Third Young Master shake his head calmly, he simply stepped aside.

Brian Bolton had no choice but to cast a complicated glance at Henry Bolton and, feeling dejected, also moved aside.

What a wimp, wasting such a good-looking face. Philip Foster strutted past Henry Bolton triumphantly, his group laughing with ill intent.

Watching the backs of the group of spoiled youths entering the garden, Henry Bolton felt differently—he wasn't angry, only a bit regretful.

Though friendships among wastrels are unreliable and scatter at the first sign of trouble, it's one thing to become strangers and go separate ways; but those like Philip Foster who kick others when they're down are actually rare.

Now is not the time to stoop to the level of such petty scoundrels. In the future—

Henry Bolton shook his head inwardly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

He was just about to enter the garden himself when he sensed a look of contempt cast at him from behind.