"Was forced to meet with someone. Minister Grant climbed over the wall and had a private conversation with Mr. Harris for about half a stick of incense."

"What did they talk about this time?"

"Still... still the hidden illness."

"………"

This time even William Thompson couldn't hold back, "The son of Secretary Grant has... an illness, and instead of seeing a doctor, he talks to a colleague about it?"

Eleanor lowered his head in silence, feeling stifled inside:

How would he know!

Though he was a Jinyiwei, handling the most confidential matters for His Majesty—he never thought things could get this private! He even had to listen to officials discussing their hidden ailments.

The imperial study was silent for a few moments.

William Thompson pinched the bridge of his nose, but quickly returned to normal. "Is he better now?"

Who "he" referred to was obvious.

Eleanor replied, "He still seems to be recuperating."

"Is he faking it, or is he really not well?"

"Mr. Harris looks sickly all year round. I only observe from afar, so it's not convenient to inquire closely. So..."

The emperor's calm voice came from above, "Do you need me to teach you how to do your job?"

Eleanor immediately shuddered and kowtowed, "Your Majesty, forgive me! I will report to Your Majesty first thing tomorrow morning!"

·

Night fell, the hour of the pig.

Most of the servants in The Harris Family had already retired for the night.

Eleanor, familiar with the place, slipped along the eaves under the cover of dusk and landed on the roof of the main house.

He gently lifted a tile and looked down, only to see bed curtains drawn all around the bed. He couldn't even make out the figure on the bed, let alone check if the person was truly ill or not.

Eleanor lay on the roof, pondering for a while, when suddenly inspiration struck.

He replaced the tile, picked up a small stone, and tossed it at the window lattice: plink—

Hey, are you asleep?

…

Inside, Edward Harris had just finished the medicine prescribed by the imperial physician and was starting to feel drowsy.

He tucked in the corners of his quilt and was about to sleep when he suddenly heard a sound outside the window: plink.

It sounded like a pebble hitting the window lattice.

Edward Harris instantly woke up and lifted the bed curtains. "Who is it?"

The room was pitch dark, and it was silent outside.

Was it the wind? He looked around, then lay back down.

After about half a stick of incense.

Edward Harris's consciousness was slowly drifting into light sleep when he suddenly heard another "plink" against the window lattice!

He woke with a start and turned to look outside.

Suddenly, Jason Grant's words from earlier in the day flashed through his mind: Did a thief get into your residence?

"……"

These days, afraid of passing on his illness, he had already sent Eric Young, Xinglan, and the others out of the courtyard. Now, wanting to call out loudly, he was worried about being silenced.

Edward Harris thought for a moment, then slapped the bed a few times in warning:

I'm not asleep yet, little thief, be off with you!

It was quiet outside for quite a while. Edward Harris figured the little thief had left, so he drew the bed curtains and went back to sleep.

Another stick of incense passed.

A very steady "plink" came from outside the window lattice.

Edward Harris, "…………"

Edward Harris sat up abruptly, nearly on the verge of a nervous breakdown—

Where on earth did this pesky thief come from?

Was it necessary? Was it really necessary! Was it necessary to keep testing if he was asleep!?

If you're going to steal something, just get on with it!

He was so angry his head was spinning. He simply got up and lit a lamp: Fine, fine, you won't let me sleep, is that it?

Then no one will sleep.

The candlelight flickered softly.

Edward Harris wrapped himself in a blanket and sat on the low couch, listening to the "plink, plink" sounds, stubbornly sitting through the night facing the other side until dawn...

Early the next morning.

Eric Young came to knock and wake him up.

As soon as the door opened, he saw Edward Harris standing barefoot in the doorway in a snow-white undershirt, his eyes bloodshot and staring straight at him.

Eric Young was so startled he took half a step back. "M-my lord?"

Edward Harris still looked a bit dazed. "If you don't sleep, I won't sleep. The King of Hell will come and pound my back."

Eric Young was shocked, "Ah, ptooey! My lord, what unlucky things are you saying!"

"..." Edward Harris came back to his senses, took a deep breath, "Uncle Yan, stand guard outside the door for me, I'm going to get some sleep. And—go find ten burly guards and have them surround this courtyard from today on."

Eric Young panicked, "What happened?"

Edward Harris shook his head wearily, not wanting to say more. He turned and went back inside, drew the bed curtains, and collapsed into sleep.

In his groggy dreams, he thought:

Better not let him find out where that pesky thief came from.

·

While Edward Harris was catching up on sleep,

Eleanor still had to report back.

William Thompson had just finished morning court when he saw Eleanor kneeling in the imperial study, his eyes bloodshot.

"Reporting to Your Majesty, Mr. Harris is probably truly ill."

William Thompson didn't ask why Eleanor's eyes were so red—Jinyiwei had their own ways of doing things.

He gestured for him to continue.

Eleanor's voice was hoarse, "Mr. Harris has suffered greatly from his illness and did not sleep a wink all night."

William Thompson frowned, his gaze sharp. "Is it that serious?"

Eleanor, after a sleepless night, was now emotional and words poured out like beans, "This humble servant speaks not a word of falsehood! From the hour of the pig last night, I threw a stone at the window every stick of incense."