Charles’s tone carried a hint of self-mockery. Wasn’t he also afraid just now, when Andrew Foster was fighting desperately?

“I was just betting that he wouldn’t dare to kill his own brother, that he wouldn’t risk mutual destruction with me.”

If Charles were to die under Andrew Foster’s gun, then the second branch of William Foster’s family wouldn’t be able to inherit the titles of Duke of Anguo or Earl of Anxi, and his uncle’s position as Grand General of Huaihua would surely be stripped away.

In this era of a hundred schools of thought contending, whether it was the Mohists, Legalists, Confucians, Militarists, or even Daoists, all advocated and valued the virtues of “filial piety and brotherly respect.”

If such a thing were to happen, even the Wuyang Ying clan would have nothing to say; they would have to expel Andrew Foster from the family register.

For this reason, Charles felt that he would never forgive that old man Richard in his lifetime.

“But what if the heir loses the bet?”

Matthew Bolton’s expression grew even uglier. He understood Charles’s thinking. He said he didn’t want to die just like that, but if there was a chance to ruin the second branch’s schemes, the heir might not hesitate to give up his own life.

With a sigh, Matthew Bolton softened his voice: “Still, that second young master went too far. How could he dare to raise weapons against you, treating his own elder brother as an enemy?”

“He should hate me. It’s not wrong for him to see me as an enemy.”

Charles laughed, a bit smugly: “His father was about to get the post of Grand General of the Garrison, but suddenly lost it this time. How could my brother not hate me?”

Matthew Bolton, after all, was just a straightforward warrior, and his mind worked a bit slowly in these matters. This was simply because the ailing Empress Dowager had taken revenge, stripping William Foster of the official post he was supposed to get.

The so-called Grand General of the Garrison and Grand General of Huaihua were just honorary military titles—basically, ranks for officials without real power.

But if William Foster were promoted to the second-rank Grand General of the Garrison, he would be qualified to take charge of the currently vacant Left Jinwu Guard, becoming the Grand General of the Left Jinwu.

The Great Qin dynasty implemented the fubing system; the founding emperor established sixteen guards, each commanding military garrisons across the realm. The Left Jinwu Guard was one of them. If William Foster succeeded this time, it would mean holding one-sixteenth of the Great Qin’s military power. How could Charles let him have his way? He immediately came up with a plan to provoke Lord Lin and anger the Empress Dowager.

If he couldn’t block William Foster’s path, couldn’t he at least sabotage it? This was all thanks to his grandfather Richard, who put on a good show. In outsiders’ eyes, their branch of the Ying clan, the Earls of Anxi, still appeared to be a model of fatherly kindness and filial piety, brotherly love and respect—nothing could seem more harmonious.

Since the Empress Dowager couldn’t find any fault with Charles, she could only vent her anger on William Foster. If she didn’t make a show of it, where would the honor of the emperor’s maternal family go?

So, this conflict between brothers wasn’t without reason. There were old grudges, and now new ones as well.

Matthew Bolton wasn’t a fool. After a brief daze, he understood: “Even so, it didn’t have to go this far.”

He was angry at Andrew Foster for disrespecting his elder brother, but he also didn’t approve of Charles’s actions. If Charles hadn’t taken that step just now, things wouldn’t have escalated to the point of armed conflict.

“But I don’t regret it. If I had to do it again, I’d still do the same. Am I, Charles, the type to show weakness in front of others?”

After saying this, Charles took out the “sleeve pearl shooter” from his arm. He stared at it for a long time, then said with deep regret, “It’s just a pity this thing is newly made and hasn’t been coated with poison.”

If those pellets had been poisoned in advance, Andrew Foster would surely be dead today! Attempting to kill his elder brother was the best chance to get rid of his second brother. Even William Foster would have to swallow the bitter fruit afterward!

“Young master, you—”

Matthew Bolton frowned deeply at these words. How could things between brothers come to this?

“I’m just joking, don’t get so worked up.”

Charles laughed heartily and waved his hand with bravado. But in his eyes, a trace of gloom flickered, hard to detect.

If it were only because his martial veins were destroyed, or because the title of Duke of Anguo and the Star-Plucking Divine Armor had fallen into others’ hands, how could Charles harbor murderous intent toward his own kin?

It was just a ducal estate, just a suit of divine armor. Even without these, as long as he was willing to live honestly, he could still be a wealthy and idle man.

He was born into a good family—far better off than the maids and servants around him, or the countless poor people in the capital struggling to survive.

Though Charles lost his parents early and was betrayed by his own kin, there were countless people in the world with tragic fates. He still lived in luxury—what was there to complain about?

But the hatred for his father’s murder could not go unavenged!

Matthew Bolton hadn’t been by his side four years ago. He didn’t know that when Charles investigated the truth behind the destruction of his martial veins, he discovered that his good second uncle was also involved in the death of his parents.

But Charles still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of it, and his talk of poisoning just now was indeed a joke.

But if the truth turned out to be what he most dreaded, then even his grandfather Richard would not be spared!

“And as for these two things, Erlang, you’re wrong!”

Matthew Bolton had just breathed a sigh of relief when he looked at Charles in astonishment, only to see an unusually bright light shining in the latter’s eyes: “Those eight thousand taels of silver, whether used to hire martial artists or buy Mo armor, are ultimately in someone else’s hands. But this sleeve pearl shooter and the chain-blade case are truly my own.”