The sounds in the courtyard gradually faded.

The servants racked their brains, even making a big deal out of someone eating an extra bowl of rice.

Edward Harris raised his hand to stop them. “That’s enough.”

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

Edward Harris continued, “Now, insult me.”

“……” Instantly, the courtyard was filled with people dropping to their knees!

Unnoticed outside the courtyard wall, the figure crouching there also trembled slightly.

“We wouldn’t dare!”

Edward Harris had a headache. “Get up, all of you.”

He looked at the shivering group, thought for a moment, and said, “One insult, one tael of silver as a reward.”

A dozen faces wavered and looked up.

Edward Harris skillfully began peeling a small walnut in his hand. “Whoever speaks first gets ten taels.”

The next second, Steward Young bellowed in a booming voice, “My lord, were you a starving ghost in your past life?!”

Edward Harris, “………”

·

Edward Harris spent the afternoon paying to be insulted.

From being eager to learn at first, to ending up numb and expressionless.

—It was basically all trivial matters, with veiled praise hidden in the complaints, and the tone grew more and more off-topic. In the end, even a little maid blushed and shyly scolded:

“Your collar is wide open, you’re simply… simply not upholding the virtues of a man.”

Edward Harris was left dizzy and dazed.

What kind of nonsense was all this?

After all that, nothing useful had been said. He couldn’t figure out who his enemies were, nor did he know how he had offended the new emperor.

“That’s enough.”

He waved his hand wearily and told Eric Young to distribute the reward silver, then walked back to the main house. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me before the banquet.”

Eric Young stroked the shiny silver, utterly devout. “Yes, my lord.”

…

In the imperial palace, inside the imperial study.

A figure knelt silently before William Thompson—it was the Jinyiwei, Eleanor, who had been sent to observe Edward Harris.

Everyone else had already been dismissed from the room.

William Thompson looked at the shadow kneeling before him. “Speak.”

The Jinyiwei Eleanor kowtowed and reported every detail of Edward Harris’s return to the residence to the new emperor.

When he heard that Edward Harris had asked the servants to praise him, William Thompson let out a soft, mocking laugh.

But then, Eleanor continued his report:

“After the praise, Lord Harris said: Insult me.”

“One insult, one tael of silver as a reward.”

William Thompson’s expression instantly turned odd.

Eleanor imitated Eric Young’s posture with great flair, booming, “Then the steward in the residence asked—My lord! Were you a starving ghost in your past life?!”

William Thompson choked on his tea.

Eleanor, oblivious, continued his report in a serious tone, “Another maid pouted—My lord’s collar is wide open, you’re simply… simply not upholding the virtues of a man!”

William Thompson, “………”

Eleanor, “Lord Harris blushed and quietly pulled his collar closed…”

William Thompson, “Eleanor.”

Eleanor immediately fell silent, lowering himself even further.

William Thompson glanced at the Jinyiwei before him, feeling as if his mind had been stuffed tightly with a jumble of nonsense. He pressed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose.

After a moment, he spoke. “Go. Keep following him.”

Eleanor kowtowed.

As he was leaving, he heard the emperor’s deep voice, “And one more thing. If you report any more nonsense next time, don’t bother coming back.”

“…Yes.”

·

Edward Harris slept until nearly dusk.

When the knocking sounded, his mind was still groggy. The windows were tightly shut, the room dim. In his daze, he thought he was still in his dormitory.

Edward Harris propped himself up and called out to his roommate in a muddled voice, “Erkang—it’s so dark in here, why don’t you turn on the light?”

The door creaked open, and a familiar voice replied, “My lord, this old servant is Eric Young.”

The lamp was lit, illuminating the room.

Eric Young stood respectfully by the bed.

Edward Harris snapped awake.

He almost forgot—he had already traveled to another dynasty.

He rubbed his aching temples and patted around on the quilt, searching. “Erkang, where are my clothes?”

“Your outer robe is hanging on the rack, my lord.” Eric Young brought over the cloud-patterned crimson robe. “And, this old servant is Eric Young.”

Edward Harris took the clothes and refused his help. “Alright, I’ll dress myself. You can go now, Er… Yankang.”

Eric Young: .

…

By the time he entered the palace, night had already fallen.

The banquet was ready, red pillars and golden beams all around, the place brightly lit.

Edward Harris took his seat under the guidance of the palace attendants, surrounded by fellow Hanlin scholars, with a long distance between them and the seat at the very front.

After a while, the imperial procession arrived in grand fashion from the other side.

William Thompson, dressed in dark robes, took his seat above.

Edward Harris glanced at him from afar. The other seemed to sense it, his gaze lingering on Edward Harris for a moment, somewhat subtly.

But with the dazzling lights and the dance floor between them, it was hard to see clearly.

Edward Harris stroked his chin: Probably just my imagination.

After several rounds of music and speeches, the officials gradually relaxed. After a few rounds of drinks, the emperor rose and left the banquet.

The atmosphere at the tables instantly became even more lively and relaxed.