After that, some officials arrived—these officials had also come after hearing of his reputation, all wanting to befriend Charles Clark. After them, the visitors became even more extravagant. The nobles of Handan city were flocking to Mafu as if they had gone mad, and it was said that nobles from other regions were still on their way. There was a growing trend of “If in your life you do not know the son of Mafu, then even if you call yourself a hero, it is in vain.” Faced with such enthusiastic and hospitable nobles, who worshipped him to the utmost, Charles Clark felt like crying but had no tears.

The most fatal thing was that he could not show any disrespect toward these people—otherwise, it could cost him his life.

The once spacious courtyard was now packed with people. In this era, meals were still taken separately, so more than twenty mats were laid out in the courtyard. Charles Clark knelt in the very center, wearing a smile, with his retainers on either side. Speaking of the system of separate dining, it was definitely not as simple as dividing food for each person; rather, each person had to set up their own stove. In modern terms, it was as if everyone had a microwave in front of them, and everyone took their food from their own microwave.

Of course, what was placed in front of them now were tripods. The Son of Heaven could have nine microwaves—no, nine tripods—in front of him, while Charles Clark could have five, and a lower-ranked officer could have three. To be honest, such rituals were rarely observed outside the Three Jin regions; the collapse of ritual and music was just like this.

“If the Young Lord can treat us sincerely, then Lord Pingyuan is probably just the same.”

“The Young Lord is skilled in military strategy, gentle in temperament, and capable of loving others. With someone like him here, what room does Wang He have to be arrogant?”

“Don’t mention just one Wang He—even if ten came, they would be no match for our Young Lord.”

The retainers began their daily flattery. Charles Clark was not surprised; after spending these days with them, he had already seen through their sycophantic nature. Their daily job was to gather and praise Charles Clark. Charles Clark had long since become numb to it. Sometimes, he really suspected that these people had been bribed by the Qin, or that they were spies sent by the Qin. But these were all respectable young men whose backgrounds he knew well...

Just as the retainers were madly praising Charles Clark, a carriage stopped at the entrance of the courtyard. Samuel Hall stepped down from the carriage. He was not very old; after getting off, he straightened his clothes and then walked toward the main gate. As he approached, someone stopped him. The person who stopped him was a typical Zhao state warrior, whose appearance alone showed he was not easy to deal with. He placed one hand on his sword hilt, facing Samuel Hall.

“May I ask what business brings you here, guest?”

“I have come to pay respects to the son of Mafu. Please, could you inform him for me?” Samuel Hall was arrogant by nature, but did not dare be too rude here.

“It is mealtime. Please come back later, guest.” The one who stopped him was Grace, who spoke bluntly. Indeed, it was improper to visit during mealtime, as it would seem like coming to beg for food—such behavior was frowned upon among the nobility. Hearing this, Samuel Hall became somewhat anxious, frowned, and said again, “I have come to see the son of Mafu for an important matter. Even if it is not the proper time, I have no choice. I hope you can inform him for me.”

Grace gave him a cold glance and ignored him.

Samuel Hall's face turned red. He looked at his driver, who hurried forward, grabbed Grace's hand, and discreetly placed some knife coins in it, smiling as he said, “My lord truly has an important matter to discuss. I hope you can inform him—just say Samuel Hall wishes to visit the son of Mafu.” Grace accepted the money, finally managed a slight smile, nodded to the driver, and turned to enter the courtyard.

“Sigh... Even beside someone as virtuous as the son of Mafu, there are still such petty men. Is there anywhere in Zhao where petty men cannot be found?” Samuel Hall muttered to himself, looking up.

“Samuel Hall?” Charles Clark looked at Grace in surprise, thinking hard—he didn’t seem to know anyone named Samuel Hall. As he was pondering, a retainer beside him said, “Young Lord, Samuel Hall is the fourth son of the magistrate of Handan, Zhao Li.” Charles Clark understood then—the son of Zhao Li was called Samuel Hall. Ah, this damned era. Charles Clark shook his head and said, “If that’s the case, let him in.”

Not long after, Grace led a slender young man into the courtyard.

Samuel Hall looked at the retainers around him, growing more and more excited. The rumors were true—everyone said the son of Mafu was capable of loving others, and that he had hundreds of people he called friends, and countless who would die with him in battle. Seeing it today, it was indeed so. In this era, the number of retainers a person had also reflected their ability. For example, Lord Pingyuan had the most retainers in Zhao, so his reputation was the greatest.

As for Charles Clark, though the number of his retainers was far less than Lord Pingyuan’s, it was still quite impressive. At least, Samuel Hall was very envious, because he himself had only two retainers. He was merely the fourth son of the magistrate of Handan, and no capable people were willing to be his retainers. He looked at the young man seated in the place of honor—tall, handsome, and as striking as a crane among chickens.