Edward Sullivan had made up his mind to leave Baisha County tomorrow, letting Grace Bennett become nothing more than a fleeting memory. He thought to himself that he had received much care from her these past days—she had sent medicine and doctors, and even helped with his daily needs—so he couldn’t just leave without a word. Besides, he couldn’t let Matthew Harris, that wretched servant, keep gossiping and making insinuations outside. Edward Sullivan tossed his sword onto the table, pushed open the cabin door, and stepped out. He saw Grace Bennett’s maid, Little Grace, leaning halfway out over the side of the pleasure boat, talking to Matthew Harris. He called to her, “Please tell Miss Bennett that Edward Sullivan has caused her quite a bit of trouble these days and plans to take a small boat upstream back to Dongyang at dawn tomorrow. I also want to thank her for all her concern these days…”

“Ah!” Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace was startled by Edward Sullivan’s sudden appearance. Before she could reply, Edward Sullivan turned and sternly rebuked Matthew Harris, “Stop your gossiping—it won’t kill you! What do you mean by saying my temper has gotten worse?”

All along the way, Matthew Harris had never been scolded so harshly by Edward Sullivan. Suddenly reprimanded, a surge of resentment shot to his head. He was about to retort, but then saw Edward Sullivan’s cold, stern gaze in the dusk, so different from before. He froze, realizing that outside, Edward Sullivan was the master and he the servant. Besides, now that Edward Sullivan had passed the provincial exam, things were not as they used to be. On the day the exam results were posted, the Sullivan family’s steward in Jiangning had even sent twenty taels of silver for expenses. Matthew Harris forced down his anger, but the shame of being scolded in front of Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace wouldn’t fade—his neck flushed red, and he stood there, not knowing how to react.

Edward Sullivan’s words were also full of veiled barbs and indirect criticism. Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace felt her face burning as well. She knew she and Matthew Harris were in the wrong for gossiping behind people’s backs. She thought to herself, When did this useless coward get the nerve to lecture others? She had wanted to mock him, but now was hardly the time. She only said, “I’ll let my lady know…”

“Thank you, Miss Little Grace…” Edward Sullivan cupped his hands in thanks, watching as Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace went back into the cabin to report. Before entering, the young girl glanced back at him. In the dusk, her face was as white as jade, still childlike, her dark eyes shining like stars in the shadows. Her skin was fair and delicate, her features exquisitely formed—truly a beauty in the making. No wonder Matthew Harris was happy to gossip with her here. Perhaps she also enjoyed hearing Matthew Harris vent his grievances about him; after all, that sort of thing easily creates a sense of camaraderie.

Edward Sullivan waited at the bow for a reply. Matthew Harris, angry but unable to leave, stood nearby in silence, his face dark. After a moment, Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace returned, holding a small bundle tied with a brocade handkerchief. Leaning against the rail, she said to Edward Sullivan, “The boat is setting off today. My lady is still bathing and changing, so she can’t come out to bid you farewell. Here are some silver ingots for your travel expenses—please don’t refuse…” Her voice was soft and gentle, but her face was expressionless, as if mechanically repeating Grace Bennett’s words. Clearly, she didn’t want her lady to keep supporting Edward Sullivan’s journey home.

After passing the provincial exam, the Sullivan family’s business manager in Jiangning had sent twenty taels of silver to help with travel expenses. After nearly a month of spending, even if some was left, it was in Matthew Harris’s hands. Such a troublesome servant needed a good lesson—he couldn’t let himself be extorted over money.

Edward Sullivan didn’t bother with false modesty. He calmly accepted the silver, feeling its weight in his hand, and said, “Please tell Miss Little Grace that Edward Sullivan thanks Miss Bennett…” He thought to himself, Grace Bennett’s unwillingness to come out and say goodbye was certainly not because she was bathing and changing, but rather because she didn’t want him to keep harboring feelings for her. Giving him travel money was just her usual generosity toward down-and-out scholars.

Edward Sullivan gazed at the last streak of red in the western sky, as delicate as a young girl’s lips, and thought, Wasn’t he now the very image of a destitute scholar?

Just then, the sound of hoofbeats—clop, clop—approached. Over a dozen tall horses trotted along the riverbank, their riders’ faces indistinct in the dusk. In a moment, they drew near, more than ten horses—some black, some yellow, some spotted—crowding at the ferry landing.

Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace, sharp-eyed, called out sweetly, “Master Parker, why are you here a quarter of an hour earlier than usual today? I’ll have someone lower the ladder right away.”

“We rode fast for a while on the road, so we arrived a bit early without realizing it.” The middle-aged man in the lead dismounted as he replied to Grace Bennett’s maid Little Grace, handing his horse to an attendant. Without waiting for the boatmen to lower the ladder, he leapt onto the prow of the black-canopied boat. Agile and spry, dressed in a short blue robe, with a short mustache on his upper lip and a clean-shaven chin, he was none other than the great merchant of Jiangning, the wealthy owner of Qingfeng Trading House, Charles Parker.

Charles Parker only noticed Edward Sullivan standing at the bow after jumping aboard, and asked in surprise, “Young Master Sullivan, you’ve finally come out today! What, are you going aboard to listen to Miss Bennett’s music?” He patted his chest, then spread his hands and said, “I don’t have any small change for you. Young Master Sullivan, you’re nimble—why not climb up to the roof to listen to the music? Just be careful not to fall into the water again…” He laughed heartily and vaulted onto the pleasure boat.

Grace Bennett had set a rule while stopping here to perform for disaster relief: boarding the boat cost ten taels of silver, and any further tips were up to the guests.