Charles Carter grew more and more alarmed in his heart, cupped his hands and bowed deeply. “I have already promised someone else, sir, so I hope you will not press further.”

“Mm, I have no intention of digging to the root of the matter. I only want to remind you: the greater your ambition, the deeper your patience must be. You have revealed yourself too soon, which makes me think you are someone whose ‘reputation exceeds reality.’”

“Your disciple accepts your teaching.” Charles Carter bowed deeply once more.

Edward Reed waved his hand, his voice becoming weak and weary. “Leave the book chest here and go drink. I want to sit here alone for a while.”

Charles Carter withdrew from the pavilion, but after a few steps turned back, knelt on the ground and performed the formal bows of student to teacher before Edward Reed. After three bows, he said, “Sir, I will remember your words today. There is one more thing I wish to ask: in your eyes, what kind of person is Victor Mason...”

“The so-called art of judging people in the study of reputation and reality is entirely different from the worldly art of physiognomy. You must either comprehend it yourself or not at all; you cannot seek answers from others.”

Charles Carter rose and withdrew again, wandering back to the main hall in a daze. Along the way, he pondered repeatedly, seeming to gain some insight, yet still confused about many things. But he did come to understand one thing: almost everything he had done recently was a mistake, especially when facing his seventh brother Scott Carter—there, he had made a grave error.

From Scott Carter, he would never receive a recommendation.

In the main hall, everyone was already drunk and disorderly. Some were laughing wildly, some were weeping bitterly, some were cursing loudly, and everywhere people were wrestling and forcing each other to drink.

The ceremony at the beginning, when they greeted the Crown Prince, had been so solemn; now, the scene was just as unrestrained.

Charles Carter actually didn’t want to come back and drink. He was preoccupied, but had nowhere else to go, and unconsciously wandered back. The first person he saw was the Eastern Palace attendant Stephen Lane. With the Crown Prince absent, he was effectively the host here. At this moment, he was standing on a table, having somehow procured a bronze goblet, which he held high, slowly pouring the wine over the heads of those around him, his face alight with the mischievous glee of a successful prank.

“Reputation exceeds reality”—Charles Carter immediately made this judgment of Stephen Lane in his mind. This man was clever enough to see that the Grand General harbored ill intentions, but that was all; even if he met the emperor, he would accomplish nothing.

Elsewhere, Victor Mason was engaged in animated conversation with several people, among whom were even two Eastern Palace officials.

Victor Mason liked making friends and was good at it; sometimes, it even served as a kind of disguise. Was he someone whose “reputation exceeds reality,” or “reality exceeds reputation”? Charles Carter couldn’t tell.

Lucas Wright staggered over, a wine pot in one hand and a cup in the other. He was simple—his reputation and reality matched perfectly, and there was nothing difficult about figuring him out.

“Where have you been hiding? It’s really not easy to have a drink with you. Come, have a cup—this is my toast to you, you must drink it!”

Charles Carter took the cup and asked, “Have you gotten your revenge?”

Whenever this matter was brought up, Lucas Wright became angry. He smashed the wine pot on the ground and shouted fiercely, “If I don’t get my revenge, I swear I’m not a man! Don’t worry, I’ve already found someone who can avenge me. Once he acts, even the King of Heaven himself will have to kneel and beg for mercy...”

Charles Carter walked away while Lucas Wright continued cursing at the sky. The hall was a noisy mess, everyone out of control, and no one paid any attention to the young master of the Zhou family’s shouting.

Not until after midnight did the out-of-control banquet finally end. The servants, either leading or carrying, escorted everyone to their rooms to rest, then cleaned up the mess, all with blank expressions—they were long used to such scenes.

Charles Carter was woken up early.

Victor Mason was full of energy, showing no sign of how much he’d drunk the night before. “We have to leave Fubo Garden before noon. Let’s take the chance to look around.”

“Is that allowed?” Charles Carter was still yawning.

“The Crown Prince has already returned to the palace. There are no guards in the garden.”

Fubo Garden didn’t serve breakfast, and everyone else was still asleep. Charles Carter and Victor Mason strolled along the paths, sometimes coming upon a lake, sometimes a hill, feeling very at ease.

When they reached a secluded spot, Victor Mason said, “Things might work out.”

“Brother Ma, you’ve found... the whereabouts?”

“Not yet, but I have a lead.” Victor Mason looked around and lowered his voice a bit. “Samuel Lane might be able to help.”

Charles Carter remembered that Stephen Lane had claimed he wanted to see the emperor and impeach Grand General William Carter. He probably knew he couldn’t get into the palace, so he also wanted to act while the emperor was traveling incognito.

“Not a good idea,” Charles Carter shook his head.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Samuel Lane speaks recklessly. If we bring him in, he might ruin everything.”

“Don’t worry, of course I won’t tell him the truth. I’ll just say I want to achieve merit with him so I can be freed from my restrictions.”

Charles Carter still shook his head. Victor Mason laughed, “Are you worried about him stealing the credit? I admire you, truly not just for this matter, but because I know how talented you are...”

“Let’s wait a few more days. If I really can’t find a way, then you can go to Samuel Lane.”

Victor Mason frowned slightly. “Then you’d better hurry. Samuel Lane won’t wait—he’s in a rush.”

“Three days at the least, five at the most.”

“All right, I’ll wait five days.”

They walked on. Charles Carter asked, “How did you persuade Samuel Lane to help?”

“No need to persuade. I publicly commented on the court officials and declared that General Carter must have ulterior motives—sorry, I had to say some bad things about your father—and then Samuel Lane came to me on his own.”