After hearing Eunuch King's words, everyone felt as if they had been granted amnesty and hurriedly stood up. Many couldn't help but sneak glances at the two constables, feeling quite disdainful toward them in their hearts—especially the head steward of the inner residence, Quinn Bolton, and the accountant, Connor Reed, who practically looked at Quentin Bennett and his son with mocking and derisive eyes.

Although the constables from the county yamen could swagger before ordinary folk, in the eyes of these high-ranking stewards, accountants, and retainers of Eunuch King's household, this father and son were nothing but lowly servants, not worthy of being on the stage at all. They couldn't understand what Eunuch King was thinking—if it was about catching a thief, why not have the guards do it? Why bother bringing in a few lowly constables?

Quentin Bennett sensed the unfriendly looks directed at him in the hall, but he didn't mind.

Charles Bennett was an old official, even more experienced in such situations. He bowed to Eunuch King and said, "Sir, since the calligraphy scroll was stolen last night and your residence is so heavily guarded, ordinary thieves can naturally be ruled out. I believe this must be the work of an insider."

Eunuch King sat comfortably in his pearwood grand master's chair, his face stern as he said, "If it's an inside job, then how should we investigate?"

Charles Bennett replied, "That's easy. Anyone able to come and go here and commit theft must have some status in the household. As long as everyone is gathered here, I can go and search their rooms one by one. Perhaps the thief, despite being careful, made a mistake and left a clue."

Eunuch King looked over the people in the hall and said coldly, "That is indeed a method. You really are a man of the yamen. Everyone is already gathered here, so go and search the rooms one by one."

Charles Bennett quickly acknowledged the order, gave Quentin Bennett a look, and hurried off.

Once the The Bennett Family father and son had left, Eunuch King relaxed, leisurely picked up the teacup on the table, took a sip, and looked coldly at the crowd. "Whoever stole the painting had better confess honestly. If the constables find out, don't blame me for being merciless. I'm giving you all a chance—don't fail to appreciate it."

The flower hall was silent; no one dared make a sound, and only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Seeing no one respond, Eunuch King gave a faint smile, seemingly unconcerned, and leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers in rhythm.

In truth, Eunuch King was far from calm inside. That young man surnamed Xu had said that if they followed his instructions, the scroll would surely be found. But though he said so, Eunuch King only half believed him. Since it concerned himself, he couldn't help but feel uneasy.

He was even secretly wondering what tricks this father and son might pull. First a treasure map, now a search of everyone's rooms—did they really think the thief who stole the genuine scroll would hide it in their own bedroom?

What scene had Eunuch King not witnessed? He was convinced that the person who stole his scroll was no ordinary thief. Such a person would be meticulous; trying to recover the scroll by searching bedrooms was simply a joke.

He remained outwardly calm, but inwardly sneered: "I hope this Xu boy has more than just these paltry skills. Otherwise, if I can't find the scroll today, I'll deal with him first."

Searching more than a dozen bedrooms took some effort and a full half an hour passed before the two constables finally returned.

Everyone couldn't help but look at the pair, seeing that both Charles Bennett and Quentin Bennett wore expressions of delight. Some couldn't help but wonder: Did they really find something?

Quentin Bennett said excitedly, "We've found something, sir, please take a look." He held a torn piece of mounting paper in his hand and respectfully presented it to Eunuch King.

Eunuch King quickly took it, rubbing and examining the mounting paper in his hands. After a moment, his brows furrowed deeply and he said coolly, "This fragment does look somewhat like the mounting paper of the scroll."

Quentin Bennett said, "It was found in the room of a retainer surnamed Lin."

The whole hall was in an uproar.

Everyone's gaze, whether gloating, worried, or complicated, turned to a dignified, middle-aged scholar in scholar's robes. Someone couldn't help but think, "So it was him? Who would have thought that Mr. Foster, usually a learned and reasonable man, would turn out to be a thief."

Others were unconvinced, looking coldly at the two constables, thinking to themselves that while Mr. Foster's character was decent and he might be believed to take small advantages, to say that Mr. Foster would dare steal—some just shook their heads, looking at the The Bennett Family father and son with even more contempt.

"Lowly servants are just that—lowly. It's only a scrap of mounting paper, yet they present it as a treasure. Most likely, Eunuch King pressed them too hard, so they're up to some trickery behind the scenes."

Under everyone's gaze, the retainer Mr. Foster immediately frowned and hurriedly said to Eunuch King, "I am an honest man—how could I do such sneaky things? Please, sir, see the truth." Then he looked at Quentin Bennett with utter disdain and said scornfully, "You want to frame me with this dubious scrap of paper? You'd better be responsible for your words. I am a man of scholarly rank—if you slander me with such nonsense, be careful, or I might sue you for defamation."

There was a hint of threat in his words. Charles Bennett felt a bit guilty; upon learning the other party had scholarly rank, his confidence was instantly doused like a bucket of cold water.