The antique market was just a short walk from the museum. As soon as William and the others stepped outside, they headed straight for it.
Trailing behind them—besides David—was Edward Taylor and his group.
"Mr. Taylor, you don't seriously believe that kid can actually translate the writing on the stele, do you?" one of his assistants asked, clearly baffled.
To them, Edward Taylor had lost his mind.
Knowledge and experience usually came with age. William looked barely out of college—he might even still be in college. How could he possibly understand something that even seasoned scholars couldn't decipher?
Edward Taylor frowned, silent for a moment. Then he muttered, "I don't believe it… but I want to."
It was a complicated feeling.
He wasn't convinced—but he couldn't help holding onto a sliver of hope.
Because if that young man really could read the stele… if what he said was even half true… then the entire history of the world might have to be rewritten.
William didn't spare Edward Taylor a glance. He just kept walking, hands in his pockets, taking in the city around him.
Modern urban life was nothing like what he remembered. The crowds, the noise, the flashing signs—everything felt fresh and strange. He looked around with quiet curiosity, like a tourist seeing it all for the first time.
Lila glanced back and leaned in to whisper, "William, Mr. Taylor's still following us. You could at least show a little respect. He used to be the president of Hudson University, and you're a student there."
William replied flatly, "He's not the president anymore."
"…Seriously?" Lila felt like talking to him was a shortcut to an aneurysm.
There wasn't a trace of respect in William's tone. Not even the bare minimum.
He didn't care about saving face for anyone.
David, still tagging along behind them, couldn't hold back anymore. "With that attitude, how the hell did you even get into Hudson University?"
William turned his head and said calmly, "Anthony Carter got me in."
David froze.
He looked at William, then at Lila.
Anthony Carter? He got William into the school?
And William had just casually dropped his name—Lila's grandfather's name—like they were on a first-name basis.
No honorifics. No deference. Just… "Anthony Carter."
Like they were equals.
Or worse—like William didn't think much of him at all.
The arrogance was unreal.
David couldn't understand how Lila could even stand to be around someone like this.
Lila stared at William, her expression tightening. Finally, she gritted her teeth and said, "William, could you at least show a little respect when you talk about my grandfather?"
William glanced at her, smiled faintly, and said nothing.
Show respect when talking about Anthony Carter?
If Anthony Carter were here in person, and William spoke to him too politely, the old man would probably drop to his knees in fear.
"Forget it. Do whatever you want," Lila muttered, exasperated. She really didn't get it—why did her grandfather think so highly of this guy?
She was definitely going to ask him about it tonight.
William's gaze swept over the roadside stalls, eyes landing on a few items. "Not bad craftsmanship," he said casually.
"It is not bad," Lila replied, then added with a warning tone, "But at least seventy percent of the stuff on this street is fake. And even if something's real, there's a good chance it'll get swapped during the deal. Don't think you can score a bargain and walk away clean—most of the vendors here look honest, but they're full of tricks."
William chuckled. "Sounds like you know your way around."
Lila shot him a look, then forced a smile. "Of course I do. I'm just telling you, not that it matters—you're not gonna buy anything anyway."
The smile vanished as quickly as it came. She was still annoyed by William's attitude—aloof, smug, like he was above it all.
William didn't argue. Instead, he crouched down in front of a stall displaying a variety of bronze and jade items. The pieces were neatly arranged, colorful and eye-catching.
Lila stopped too, curious to see what kind of stunt he was about to pull. She could tell at a glance—everything on this table was modern junk.
And more importantly, William didn't have a single cent on him.
"How much for this jade bowl?" William asked, pointing at a translucent green bowl.
The vendor looked him over, then glanced at Lila and the others behind him. A smile spread across his face. "Ah, that's a jade bowl from the Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty. Look at the luster, the condition, the poetry carved on the side—"
"Thirty. You selling or not?" William cut him off.
"You… are you messing with me?" The vendor's smile froze. He hadn't even named a price yet, and this kid was already throwing out thirty bucks? What was he supposed to do with that?
William just stared at him, saying nothing. But there was a faint smile in his eyes.
The vendor felt a chill crawl up his spine. That look—like this kid could see right through him—made his scalp tingle.
"…Fine. It's yours." The vendor let out a heavy sigh. The bowl was just a glass imitation, cost him maybe three bucks wholesale. Usually, he'd sell it to clueless tourists for a quick profit.
Thirty bucks still made him a little money. At least it covered today's booth fee.
William turned around. Lila quickly looked away, already guessing what was coming. Don't tell me he's about to shamelessly ask me for money again…
"If you really need cash, just take the card," she said, exasperated. "You won't accept it, but then you turn around and borrow money from me? What is this?"
But William didn't even glance at her. Instead, he raised a hand and pointed behind him—right at Edward Taylor. Then he crooked his finger, beckoning him over.
Edward Taylor blinked, confused, then pointed at himself. Me?
How many years had it been since someone had the nerve to beckon him like that?
William nodded slightly, confirming it was him.
"This kid's got some nerve!"
"I swear, I'm two seconds from punching him."
"Never seen anyone so rude to Mr. Taylor!"
The group behind Edward Taylor was fuming. William's attitude was beyond disrespectful.
Edward raised a hand to calm them down, then slowly walked over to William.
William stood up and said, "Buy this for me, and I'll teach you one character. Just one. I'm not taking you as a disciple."
I'm not taking you as a disciple.
Edward Taylor was speechless. The way he said it, like Edward had been begging to be his student or something.
"You really understand the writing on the stele?" Edward still couldn't let it go. What if? What if William really could read it?
William turned and started walking. It was just a bowl—he thought it looked nice, but he didn't care that much.
"Fine! If you can really teach me the characters on that stele, I'll buy you whatever you want," Edward said quickly, catching up. He'd already memorized the strange symbols carved into the stone. Later, he'd write them out one by one and see if William could actually read them.