Before Mr. Sullivan could give a specific answer, he split his mouth open again and let out a loud sigh. What good would it do to know the era name? Most of the pitiful historical knowledge in his head came from reading wuxia novels. Even if he knew the era name, he still wouldn’t be able to figure out what year in the Common Era it was. As for who was emperor, did it really make a difference? Was he supposed to become a collaborator and help the Mongol-Yuan court massacre the rebel army? The problem was, even if he wanted to be a collaborator, the Mongol-Yuan court would have to be willing to take him! He didn’t have a single soldier under his command, and he had just killed a Semu official—trying to defect in this situation, wasn’t that just asking for death?!

“This year’s era name is Zhizheng, the eleventh year. The emperor seems to be, seems to be called Toghon Temür!” Mr. Sullivan was a natural-born secretary; even though Chris Brooks had already lost interest, he still dutifully replied. “As for the Red Turban Army, the Red Turban Army hasn’t established a country yet, so there’s no era name for now.”

“Oh!” Chris Brooks’s worries were interrupted again, and he nodded wearily. The Red Turban Army hadn’t founded a country yet, so it would probably be a while before they were wiped out—he still had a chance to sneak away. If he could make it to the southern coast and get a merchant ship heading south, Malaysia was probably still in a primitive state, enough for him to hide out until the day Zhu Yuanzhang unified the country.

As he was secretly plotting his escape, he heard Mr. Sullivan timidly remind him, “Just now, General Mao also, also said that besides this mansion, the whole area in the southwest of the city—four wards and more than twenty streets—Sesame, no, Chief Steward Thompson has rewarded them all back to you. The residents in those neighborhoods are all your subjects now; you can command them as you wish!”

“That much territory?” Chris Brooks was startled, and his dream of sneaking overseas instantly shattered into countless pieces flying out the window. “Didn’t you already hand it all over to Sesame Li? Why did he give it back as a reward?! What do I need so much land for? Why didn’t you refuse him at the time?!”

The answer was actually obvious—even without Mr. Sullivan replying, Chris Brooks could guess it himself. This territory had been seized by the Maitreya Sect’s Great Wisdom Hall during the chaos, and although Mr. Sullivan had, on his behalf as the fake hall master, offered it up to Sesame Li, when it came to the relationship between the White Lotus Sect and the Maitreya Sect, his own status in the Maitreya Sect was far higher than Sesame Li and everyone around him in the White Lotus Sect. So, after Sesame Li had saved face, he could only return the territory under the guise of a reward.

“Sir, it was Sesame—it was Chief Steward Thompson’s reward. How could I dare refuse it for you!” Mr. Sullivan was nowhere near as clever as Chris Brooks imagined, and he pouted, looking aggrieved. “Besides, you’re now the Left Army Commander. In the future, all the money for raising troops, making weapons, and recruiting heroes will have to come from you. If I refused the reward for you, where would you get the money?!”

“I have to pay myself? As the Left Army Commander, I don’t get a military salary?” Chris Brooks was stunned again, looking utterly confused.

Mr. Sullivan was already a bit numb to his habit of getting muddled at critical moments. He grinned and explained, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. Back in the Yuan Dynasty, they stopped paying military salaries long ago—officials had to find their own ways to scrape by. Besides, what’s the use of those paper banknotes anyway? You can’t even buy a peck of rice with a whole sack of them. They’re not worth burning as firewood, and they’re too rough to use as toilet paper!”

Clearly, this former archer had suffered enough from the court’s reckless printing of banknotes and was deeply dissatisfied. Chris Brooks was amused by his words and burst out laughing. After laughing, he actually felt much lighter.

Left Army Commander it is, then. At least he was an officer now, better than being a grunt charging into battle. Who knows, maybe one day he really could carve out a territory of his own! By then, the trouble of pretending to be the Maitreya Sect’s hall master would be solved. Whether he bought a boat to go overseas or led his brothers to join Zhu Yuanzhang, it would definitely be better than having nothing at all.

As a homebody at heart, Chris Brooks’s nature was to adapt to any environment. He quickly thought of all the benefits of being the Left Army Commander, and the light returned to his eyes bit by bit.

Seeing his master finally perk up, Mr. Sullivan quickly whispered, “Actually, according to Chief Steward Thompson’s original promise, giving you just this small piece of land was already unfair. But since you didn’t have much contact with them before, and your foundation is still weak, you’ll have to make do for now—there’s no need to fight over it.”

“What do you mean? Should I have gotten even more?” Chris Brooks looked at him warily and asked in a low voice.

Sure enough, Mr. Sullivan had more to say. He lowered his voice and continued, “I heard, I heard that before Chief Steward Thompson marched on Xuzhou, he promised a huge reward to the death warriors who infiltrated the city. Whoever killed an official would get all that official’s property. Although Mahama Kongmu was just a minor, unranked clerk, he was always favored by the Darughachi and knew how to make money. Aside from this mansion and the farmland outside, almost half the shops in Xuzhou belonged to him. In the past, even the prefect and the vice-prefect would greet him as Brother Ma when they saw him!”