With his family in such dire straits, as the man of the house, he naturally had to find ways to make up for it. Mr. Clark Sr.'s assistance could not last forever, and relying on his eldest brother was nothing but wishful thinking—in the end, that guy had only left behind a huge mess. After much deliberation, and combining what little historical knowledge he had, he finally resolved to follow the path of Edward Clark's rise to power in history and try to connect with that James Carter as soon as possible. As for whether he could become the illustrious General Clark, that would depend on luck.

Three days later, at the crack of dawn, he told Emily a little lie and left the house, carrying only ten coins for tea. Just as he remembered, Bianjing during the Northern Song was indeed the most prosperous place in the world. Although commoners were not allowed to walk on the imperial avenue at the city’s main axis, the neighborhoods on both sides of the imperial street were still bustling. Whether it was Baokangmen Street, Quyuan Street, or Daxiangkou, everywhere was packed with people, and the cries of street vendors rose and fell. Perhaps because it was still early, the brothels and pleasure houses were all tightly shut, and even most taverns had yet to open their doors, but the teahouses in a row were doing brisk business, with elderly men chatting idly in an endless stream.

Strolling along the alleys outside Zhuque Gate, Edward Clark's attention was gradually drawn to the ancient marketplace, and all the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind were pushed aside. Although, in his memory, the philosophy of Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism originated in the Song dynasty, judging by the current times, there was no shortage of young women and wives on the streets, their laughter and chatter unending. Not everyone observed the taboo of keeping out of public view, which was quite a feast for his eyes.

He himself was a burly figure. Although he could not compare to those slick, handsome young men, he was still quite conspicuous walking down the street. In just this short stroll, he had picked up three silver hairpins and five rings, not to mention countless handkerchiefs and hair ornaments. However, with matters weighing on his mind, he had no interest in flirting, so he only responded perfunctorily to the women who approached him, leaving several top courtesans disguised as respectable wives rather disappointed.

After wandering for most of the day, seeing that the sun was high, he found a teahouse and gulped down tea to his heart’s content. Just as he was about to head back, he happened to catch sight of several scrolls displayed at a calligraphy and painting stall, and his interest was immediately piqued as he walked over.

He browsed through the various calligraphy and paintings at the stall, not noticing that a few people had gathered beside him. When he straightened up, he saw an elderly man with graying temples surrounded by four or five attendants, his gaze fixed on the scroll in Edward Clark's hand.

“Young man, may I have a look at what you’re holding?” the old man asked.

Edward Clark was momentarily taken aback. Seeing that the newcomer had an extraordinary bearing and was accompanied by servants, he hurriedly offered the scroll with both hands, saying, “Sir, please feel free to examine it. This belongs to the shopkeeper; I am only admiring it.”

Although he was eager to know the old man’s identity, since they were strangers, it was not appropriate to pry. With a quick turn of thought, he instead asked the stall owner with great interest, “Shopkeeper, I see there’s a lively crowd here. How much do you make from this calligraphy and painting stall in a day?”

“Alas, all I have here are the scribbles of scholars and painters, nothing worthy of a place in the halls of the refined. Business is very slow. If only I had an authentic work by a famous person to anchor the stall, things would be much better.” The stall owner, a man in his fifties or sixties, sighed and pointed to another calligraphy and painting stall not far away. “That Mr. Thompson over there is truly lucky. Last time, someone forgot to bring money for a landscape painting worth two hundred coins, and actually agreed to exchange it for a handwritten piece by Master Dongpo himself. It made everyone else green with envy!”

As Edward Clark clicked his tongue in amazement, he inadvertently noticed a faint smile appear on the old man’s face beside him, and his heart stirred. Even if he was ignorant in modern times, he had still heard of Su Dongpo, the top celebrity of the Song dynasty. Could it be that this chance encounter would lead him to a distinguished person? With the intention of testing the waters, he immediately asked, “Old sir, is what you say true? You must know that an authentic work by Scholar Su is extremely valuable—someone would really trade something so precious for something so ordinary?”

“Who says it isn’t so? But that person was Scholar Su himself, which is why I say Mr. Thompson had a stroke of great fortune! Alas, why am I not so lucky?” The stall owner’s face was full of envy and discontent, and it took him a while to compose himself.

“It seems that Scholar Su is truly a man of genuine character. For a mere two hundred coins, he could have paid later, but to treat the people with such sincerity—there are truly few high officials like that!” Edward Clark racked his brains to come up with this line, and dared not say more to the stall owner. In his own time, Samuel Adams was highly praised for his literary talent and also had a good reputation as an official, but he didn’t remember much detail, and dared not comment further. After all, if the person before him really was Samuel Adams, this was a matter of making a first impression.

“What a man of true character! Rarely does anyone give such an honest assessment of me!” The old man, who had been silent until now, finally clapped his hands and sighed, looking very gratified. “If an official cannot treat the people with sincerity, he is unworthy of the court’s salary!”

Edward Clark first showed a hint of surprise, then bowed deeply and said, “This humble junior, Edward Clark, pays his respects to Scholar Adams!”

He deliberately lowered his voice at this moment, knowing that Samuel Adams had suffered many hardships in his life, but his status as a literary giant was known to all. He did not want to cause a commotion with a single word. However, the reaction of the calligraphy and painting stall owner was clearly beyond his expectations. The old man in his fifties or sixties gaped, about to cry out in surprise.