In a unique octagonal tower, on the second-floor balcony, sat a delicate little girl. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes large, and her face always wore a smile. She was playing the zither; though not yet skilled, the music she produced was beautiful. The girl laughed heartily all day, her mood always bright and cheerful.
"Another strange dream."
John Chou woke from sleep. Beside him, Maggie Mute was still sound asleep. On such a cold day, he had planned to sleep in, but this dream had startled him awake.
Since childhood, he often dreamed of this little girl. In his dreams, he saw every detail of her life. It was a strange feeling—the girl seemed almost real, and each dream was different. Though John Chou was puzzled, he never doubted these dreams. After each one, he felt comforted. The girl in his dreams was about his age, loved to laugh, and was especially cheerful and optimistic.
He was nearly six years old; after this winter, John Chou would officially turn six. A few days ago, Victor Fan had told him that they needed to come up with a solution. After all, Henry Henderson’s health was getting worse, and the branch families of the Hendersons were all eyeing the position of family head. Among the more than twenty boys from the branch families, some had even been praised by Henry Henderson for their cleverness.
The oldest of these children was Harold Henderson, already fourteen, and considered the most likely to inherit the Henderson family legacy. But Henry Henderson still hesitated, since Harold was technically the grandson of Henry’s sister. That branch of the family had returned to the Hendersons only because war forced them back, but they were still considered branch relatives. According to family tradition, they could not inherit the main family’s legacy.
The other children were mostly cousins, as the Hendersons were a large clan. Most branches split off with each generation, and while the main family provided them with good resources, all real power remained with the main line. There was a clear distinction between the main family and the branches.
But at this critical moment, Henry Henderson was deeply frustrated by John Chou's awkwardness. Everyone in the Henderson family knew it, and even outsiders gossiped that if the family were handed to John Chou, the Hendersons would surely decline.
"That old man, really! He clearly has a solution, but just refuses to tell me, making me figure it out myself."
John Chou rested his chin on his hand in dissatisfaction, sitting at the table, gazing at the falling snow outside the window, lost in thought.
With a creak, the door to Henry Henderson’s room was pushed open. Zane Zhuang entered, holding several letters—crucial correspondence that Henry Henderson had sent him out to retrieve from the Henderson family's spies.
Henry Henderson had absolute trust in Zane Zhuang. He never made mistakes when handling affairs.
"Master, what do the letters say?"
Henry Henderson opened each letter, reading for a while before sighing deeply.
"What else could it be? All the lords and nobles are asking about the Henderson heir. The country’s situation is unstable, and our family will have an important role to play. What do you think, Zane? About John Chou’s situation."
For a moment, Zane Zhuang didn’t know how to answer. He understood that Henry Henderson was still hesitating. In Henry’s eyes, John Chou was not capable enough to be the family head. But the decision could not be delayed. If Henry died without choosing a successor, the Henderson family would fall apart.
"I think you already have someone in mind, Master. You just don’t trust the young lord."
Zane wanted to say more but held his tongue. He truly couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Everyone in the Henderson family said John Chou was an idiot—this was the result of John pretending to be foolish for years. No one blamed him, but now the issue of succession was right in front of him, and it was something John couldn’t avoid.
Henry Henderson’s worries were understandable. The Hendersons had always dealt in espionage; in Dingtau, they appeared to be merchants, but in reality, they were a vast organization breeding spies. This had been true for generations, though only the family head and a few confidants knew the truth.
Spy work required strong execution and strategic planning. Most important was a deep and objective understanding of the world’s situation, demanding a sharply perceptive mind. Henry Henderson asked many questions, hoping for different answers, from various perspectives. But so far, no suitable heir had emerged—least of all John Chou.
"We can delay for at most another year. Otherwise, the Hendersons will be left leaderless. I am old, and I fear I won’t last much longer. Zane, go bring the young master here."
For the past few days, Henry Henderson had been feigning illness, hoping to observe everything in secret. His confidants had reported every event in the Henderson residence to him, so he was well aware of John Chou’s every move—including his act of playing dumb.
"Ha ha ha, he really is like one of our own. But he still lets things slip sometimes. That won’t do—better keep up the act."
Henry Henderson had noticed this long ago, but he always played along, acting as the strict grandfather who looked down on his grandson for his lack of ambition.
Henry had already confirmed this with Victor Fan. He knew everything about the Hendersons now—the branch families wanted power, but compared to John Chou, they fell far short.
The first time Henry suspected John was pretending to be foolish was when John was just over four years old. Through his confidants, Henry learned that John had argued with an older child about why so many people were coming to the Henderson town. The older child said it was because of the Hendersons’ kindness, but John said it was because the Hendersons allowed them in.
[Irrelevant system message skipped.]
Henry was shocked at the time. The reason he settled near Dingtau was because it was close to the national highway. The growing number of people was meant to provide cover and breed a new generation of spies. With more people, it was easier to hide what the Hendersons were really doing.
The second argument was with Victor Fan, about whether the world belonged to the people or the ruler—a question with no real answer. But John replied, 'The capable are most important.'
Such an answer, coming from a child barely four years old, truly astonished Henry Henderson.
After a while, at the doorway, John Chou walked in with his head down—the same as always, timid and fearful, looking as if he had just woken up.
"John, Grandpa’s feeling better today and wants to go for a walk. Will you come with me?"
"No more studying?"
John Chou looked at Henry Henderson with a bit of excitement. He smiled and nodded, then took Henry’s hand and started walking. Zane Zhuang brought a few guards and followed them out.
They reached the main street, where the sun was already up. Many people greeted Henry Henderson respectfully, watching them leave with great deference.
"John, what do you think of Henderson Town now?"
"It’s very good."
John answered simply, then lowered his head, his eyes darting around.
"Grandpa, where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere."
Henry continued leading John toward the north side of town, where the Hendersons owned many fields and workshops. As they arrived, Henderson family members came over to discuss planting for the spring.
After reaching the edge of a field, Henry Henderson stopped. The land was covered in deep snow.
"John, what should we plant next year?"
John Chou shook his head, but Henry Henderson wasn’t angry. John looked at him in confusion.
"Whatever you plant, that’s what you’ll harvest. Remember this, John: every generation of the Hendersons has sown seeds and reaped a rich harvest. But what I planted in my generation, for various reasons, nearly brought ruin to our family. What kind of seeds you plant for your generation—that’s up to you."
John thought about it. What Henry said today was different from before—especially since Henry seemed changed. John quickly glanced sideways at Zane Zhuang behind him.
Zane blinked. Then Henry took John to a food shop, ordered something to eat, and after they were done, they went home. He didn’t get angry at all.
"How could I, young master? I didn’t say a word."
"Then why was Grandpa so nice to me today? That’s impossible. Uncle Zhuang, did you tell him about me pretending to be dumb?"
Zane shook his head, looking at John Chou with complete confusion.
"Oh no, young master, I think the old master has already decided on the heir."
John Chou blinked.
"It’s Harold. Sigh, young master, what do we do now? You’ve kept up this act for so long, the old master must be disappointed. But you’re his true grandson. Today, it felt like he was saying: if we don’t plant seeds now, it’ll be too late. So he’s going to choose an heir, and you’re not fit for it. Once the old master is gone, life will be hard for you and Madam."
As Zane said this, John thought carefully. It did seem true—especially since Henry hadn’t scolded him today, which felt strange. Most importantly, Henry’s tone seemed almost apologetic. It was clear he planned to let Harold, the eldest, inherit the position of family head.
"Hurry and find my teacher. Things are bad. If Harold really becomes the family head, he’ll probably use the chance to get rid of me."
Zane looked at John Chou in surprise.
"Is it really that serious?"
"Of course. If I were him, I’d do the same."