The young master's personal affairs did not require the service of young Taoist boys. It was said that he didn't much like men, finding them clumsy and awkward, so all the attendants in his courtyard were young girls, making the place a riot of color and always full of spring.

Before entering, Henry Carter secretly stared at Master's goatee for quite a while and came to a conclusion: Master's beard had been combed with a comb.

On the way here, Alice Foster had said that Mr. Ethan Clark arranged for him to stay at Qing'an Residence to help him clear his mind and calm his spirit. Henry Carter felt vaguely uncomfortable about this, unwilling to admit that his mind was unsettled. Now, arriving at Senior William's place and looking up to see the words "Land of Tenderness" above the door, his heart finally settled—so it wasn't that his mind was restless, but that Master was getting senile.

Off to the side, Samuel Foster feigned ignorance in a cutesy way, asking, “Master, what’s written at Senior William’s door?”

Ethan Clark stroked his beard and read it aloud for him. Samuel Foster, wide-eyed and blank-faced, asked again, “Does that mean you want to encourage Senior to be more gentle in the future?”

Ethan Clark was shocked and hastily warned, “You must never let your Senior William hear you say that.”

Henry Carter and Samuel Foster saw the dignified Headmaster acting like a dog with its tail between its legs, and, for once, shared the same thought: “This is simply outrageous, a complete disregard for the natural order!”

Thinking this, the two exchanged a glance and saw the shock on each other's faces. They quickly followed Master's example, tucking their tails, and thus learned the sect’s most important skill—the Art of Tucking One’s Tail.

Actually, the first time Henry Carter saw his Senior William in person, he was utterly stunned.

The man still looked a bit youthful, but his flamboyance was already unmatched. He wore a snow-white satin robe embroidered with patterns invisible to the eye, only revealed in shifting light and shadow. He lounged bonelessly against the carved chair back, eyelids half-lowered, one hand propping up his chin, his loose hair like splashed ink.

Charles Bennett heard the commotion and lazily lifted his eyelids, his eyes sweeping sideways like a brush of pale ink—long, upturned, exuding a proud and delicate air. Seeing Master, he showed no intention of standing up, remaining firmly seated as he slowly spoke, “Master, you went out and brought back two more strays?”

He seemed to have matured later than others, his voice still carrying a youthful timbre, mixed with a hint of petulance, making it even harder to tell if he was male or female.

Yet he carried himself with such confidence that, despite his androgyny, it somehow didn’t feel out of place.

The venerable Headmaster smiled obsequiously, rubbing his hands as he introduced, “Oh, this is your third Junior Henry Carter, and this is your fourth Junior Samuel Foster. They’re still young and inexperienced. As Senior William, you should help Master guide them.”

Upon hearing Samuel Foster’s name, Charles Bennett’s long brows twitched, and his face seemed to spasm. He half-opened his eyes, deigning to glance at his freshly-minted fourth Junior, then quickly looked away, as if his gaze had been sullied.

“Samuel Foster?” Senior William seemed displeased, slowly remarking, “Truly, the man matches the name—he does look a bit wronged.”

Samuel Foster’s face had turned so pale it was almost green.

Charles Bennett tossed him aside and turned to Henry Carter.

“That kid,” he said, “come here, let me have a look.”

☆ Chapter 5

Charles Bennett’s attitude was careless, and the gesture he used to summon Henry Carter was clearly the way one would call a dog.

His actions instantly snapped Henry Carter out of his awe.

Having been neglected since childhood, Henry Carter was deeply insecure. Over time, this insecurity settled into his bones, transforming into a fierce, almost obsessive pride—just a look could make him sensitive, let alone a gesture meant for cats and dogs.

It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him in the dead of winter, freezing his features into ice. With a frozen, expressionless face, he stepped forward, avoided Charles Bennett’s hand, and formally bowed, saying, “Senior William.”

Charles Bennett leaned forward to take a look at him, and as he did, a faint orchid fragrance seemed to envelop Henry Carter. Who knew how many kinds of incense this young master’s tattered clothes had absorbed—enough to repel insects, surely.

This young master Senior William clearly wasn’t good at reading people’s moods; he didn’t notice Henry Carter’s barely suppressed anger at all.

He even leisurely looked Henry Carter up and down, as if appraising a horse. Apparently satisfied, Charles Bennett nodded absentmindedly and, paying no mind to anyone else’s reaction, offered his new Junior a sincere first impression.

He bluntly said, “Not bad. Just don’t grow up ugly.”

After that, to show the casualness befitting a Senior William, the young master reluctantly swept his palm an inch above Henry Carter’s head, pretending to pat him, then perfunctorily ordered, “I’ve seen both the ‘wronged’ and the ‘aggrieved’ ones now, Master, you can take them away—hmm, Little Grace, give them… each a handful of pine nut candy.”

Mr. Ethan Clark’s old face twitched slightly. He suddenly had a strange feeling, as if the two Junior he’d brought in for his unfilial disciple to see were not disciples at all, but two personal maidservants he’d fetched from afar.