There are six sons of princes at the Imperial Academy, and all the others have the surname Song. They are called ‘Heir Xu’ instead of being addressed as ‘Heir of So-and-so Prince’ like the others, which highlights the special status of Edward Clark—the only one of his kind in the entire Great Yue.

Edward Clark wanted to offer a few words of explanation, but felt it was beneath his status. For now, he could only pretend not to notice and walked straight into the study hall called ‘Wenqu Courtyard’.

The students of the Imperial Academy are said to be all equal as disciples of the Son of Heaven, but in reality, Edward Clark could never study together with the sons of poor families. This study hall named Wenqu Courtyard was specially prepared for princes and the sons of noble families. There weren’t many people inside, but the place was surprisingly spacious.

In the early morning, according to the time, it should be the period for morning reading.

In the center of Wenqu Courtyard’s large study hall, all four sides were open with bamboo blinds hanging. Twenty small desks were arranged, and a dozen or so elegantly dressed sons of nobility were present. Most of them were drowsy; only a few noble ladies were actually holding books and reading aloud.

Standing in the center of the study hall and teaching was not a master, but the daughter of the Grand Preceptor, Grace Johnson.

The Grand Preceptor, Ethan Johnson, was a pedantic scholar, already advanced in years, and didn’t much care for Edward Clark and his fellow ‘second-generation heirs’. He rarely came to lecture himself, usually sending his daughter to make an appearance—no one listened anyway.

As soon as Edward Clark entered the study hall, he spotted a young nobleman sitting upright, holding a book of the sages, but his eyes were secretly glancing at Grace Johnson’s figure, his gaze unspeakably lecherous.

Grace Johnson was sixteen or seventeen this year, gentle in temperament, with long hair down to her waist—a true beauty.

Everyone present was the son of a wealthy family; under normal circumstances, they would never dare to look around. But in the dull study hall, there was nothing interesting, so the only thing to look at was the female instructor earnestly reading poetry and classics. Hmm... it was like bad students sneaking peeks at their teacher.

Edward Clark was already troubled by the morning’s events, and seeing this scene, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

As the saying goes, “Better late than never.”

If he didn’t seize the chance to cause some trouble now, he’d have no way to explain himself when Lady Lu came after him.

After thinking for a moment, Edward Clark walked to the front of the study hall and, without warning, threw a fierce punch at the young man who was still sneaking glances...

------

“Ah—”

In the early winter of the tenth year of Zhaohong, a miserable scream echoed through the study halls of the Imperial Academy.

Inside Wenqu Courtyard’s study hall, Grace Johnson held a ruler, anxiously hopping in place, trying to stop Edward Clark’s violence:

“Stop hitting him! Stop!”

In the center of the study hall, the nephew of the current Empress Dowager, the legitimate son of the Huainan Xiao clan, David Smith, was lying on the ground, clutching his forehead and wailing in pain, still a bit dazed:

“Ah—Edward Clark, why are you hitting me! What did I ever do to you! Ah—...”

The cries of pain continued.

Edward Clark was half-squatting on the ground, pulling David Smith’s arm away and raining punches down on his face, looking extremely fierce.

Grace Johnson, flustered, her figure trembling, held the ruler but didn’t dare to strike. She wanted to rush over and pull the violent Edward Clark away, but was stopped by a noble lady, who gently advised:

“Don’t go over. Heir Xu might be drunk—be careful or he’ll hit you too.”

Grace Johnson hesitated, anxiety showing in her eyes, then ran out of the study hall, apparently to call for help.

David Smith took a beating, his face bruised and swollen, his eyes filled with unspeakable grief and anger:

“I am the legitimate son of the Xiao clan, ah—

The Empress Dowager’s nephew, ah—...”

With every sentence, he took another punch—the rhythm was perfect.

After a round of punches, hurried footsteps soon sounded outside the study hall. Grace Johnson, lifting her skirt, her face anxious, spoke in a low voice:

“Your Highness, Heir Xu is drunk and beating people, please hurry and stop him, or he’ll cripple Young Master Xiao...”

Behind Grace Johnson was a scholar in scholarly robes, appearing not yet forty, gentle and refined, walking unhurriedly behind her.

Inside the study hall, several noble sons straightened their clothes and adopted polite manners upon seeing him:

“Greetings, His Highness, Duke Reed.”

Edward Clark’s expression softened slightly, and he too raised his hand in a scholar’s salute.

Duke ReedAlice Johnson was the emperor’s younger brother. He had always taught at the Imperial Academy and stayed out of politics, renowned for his virtue and praised as a ‘true gentleman of the age’. At this moment, Duke Reed walked slowly into the study hall, saw David Smith sitting on the ground with a bruised face, and looked somewhat helpless.

David Smith was the Empress Dowager’s nephew, and the Empress Dowager was technically Duke ReedAlice Johnson’s stepmother. If you really counted the generations, David Smith even called the current emperor ‘Big Cousin’.

“Buling, David Smith, why are you two fighting in the study hall?”

Hearing Duke Reed’s reproach, David Smith hurriedly got up and ran over, pointing at his own face: “Your Highness, it wasn’t a fight—he hit me! I only held back because he’s younger.”

Duke Reed frowned slightly, then turned to look at Edward Clark:

“Buling, why did you hit David Smith?”

Edward Clark originally wanted to say, “A gentleman does not take advantage of the dark,” but recalling Aunt Lu’s teachings, he changed his words:

“I was drunk. Who is he?”

His expression was defiant, his tone extremely arrogant, very much the style of a second-generation heir. Yet his features were refined, and instead of looking fierce, he appeared coldly handsome, causing quite a few noble ladies to sneak glances at him.

David Smith, burning with anger, rubbed his pig-headed face:

“I am David Smith, the Empress Dowager’s nephew, Lady Lu’s younger brother-in-law, your uncle.”

Edward Clark frowned slightly, sizing him up and down: “Oh, is that so.” He picked up the wine jug and took a swig.

“……”