Drawing Water with a Bamboo Basket

Renard woke up to find it was already noon the next day. Sunlight streamed into the castle from the window, painting the floor a golden hue.

"Creak." The door opened, and Selina, her face etched with exhaustion, walked in. The first thing she saw was Renard awake, and her face went from surprise to delight. "Young Master, you're awake!"

"Shh! Shh! Shh!" Renard quickly made a silencing gesture, accidentally aggravating his wound and causing him to gasp.

Seeing this, Selina hurried forward to comfort him. "Young Master, don't move. The apothecary said you need complete rest. Although your injuries aren't severe this time, the arrow was poisoned, and the toxin has entered your bloodstream. It will take a long time to fully recover and expel it."

As she spoke, tears began to stream down her face. "Who the hell dared to attack the Young Master? If I catch them, I'll hang them in the town square."

Renard's heart warmed at her words, and he chimed in, "That person is indeed a scoundrel."

Ben, overhearing this from outside the door, felt tears well up in his heart. He desperately wanted to say three words: You bastard.

Of course, he could think it privately, but he would never dare to say it out loud.

After a while, Selina emerged with red-rimmed eyes and said to the nine lackeys standing by the door, "The Young Master wants to see you."

Upon hearing this, the lackeys swarmed in, fully embodying the image of loyal hounds.

"Young Master! It's all my fault, I failed to protect you." "Young Master, blame me if you must, it was my momentary negligence that gave the assassin an opening." "..."

Hearing the wailing and crying from inside, tears once again slid from Selina's eyes. She quietly closed the door and walked towards the end of the corridor.

"All of you, shut up." Renard clutched his chest, his anger boiling. "I'm not dead yet, what are you crying about?"

The lackeys immediately stopped crying and gathered around him. Tommy said obsequiously, "As expected of the Young Master, to recover from such serious injuries overnight."

"Get lost." Renard couldn't be bothered to waste words with them and got straight to the point. "What was the old man's reaction?"

"Thunderous rage." "Furious." "Furious... and righteous?"

"Get lost, you idiot!" Renard hit Fern hard on the head. "Did he ask about the assassin?"

"Of course." Riley nodded. "We were all called in for questioning."

"What did you say?" Renard asked with a hint of anticipation.

"Three words." Ben held up three fingers. "Not clear."

Tommy also grinned and held up three fingers. "Don't know."

"And what was the old man's expression when he heard those three words?" Renard asked again.

Everyone shivered simultaneously, looking extremely fearful.

Renard immediately understood. He rubbed his hands together. "Well done. Let's see how that bastard Gilbert dies this time."

The lackeys exchanged glances. Tommy, the lackey, awkwardly tucked in the corner of his blanket. "Young Master, your plan might be ruined. Young Master Gilbert left Saint Brieuc Fortress the day before yesterday for the Royal Capital."

"What?" Renard was utterly astonished, then slowly reacted. "He ran?"

"Uh... yes." Everyone nodded awkwardly.

"So, I took this beating for nothing?" Renard's eye twitched slightly.

"Not clear!" "Don't know!"

Renard's expression turned grim, and after a long pause, he sighed. "I really underestimated that guy. Going to the Royal Capital was probably a ruse; his real intention was to kill me."

Renard's guess was correct. Gilbert indeed intended to kill him.

The day before yesterday, Gilbert had bid farewell to his father and headed for the Royal Capital, but in reality, he was leading men to intercept Renard.

Of course, he wasn't entirely lying. Regardless of whether the ambush succeeded or failed, he had to go to the Royal Capital. If the assassination succeeded, it was to avoid suspicion; if it failed, it was to flee.

However, there was one thing Gilbert hadn't anticipated: someone would tip them off, causing him to miss his target and inadvertently take the blame.

"If he's gone, he's gone. At least it's not a fight to the death yet," Renard sighed wearily.

In truth, he hadn't expected to resolve the issue through these schemes. Gilbert was, after all, Baron Hamilton's son. Even if he made a grave mistake, he would at most be reprimanded. It was impossible for him to be killed.

Moreover, this assassination was a play he had orchestrated himself. There was no direct evidence pointing to Gilbert, so Baron Hamilton could only harbor suspicions and take precautions in secret.

Despite what he said, his subsequent plan was ruined, and much of his preparation went to waste.

Of course, it wasn't entirely useless. After all, their contest had just begun. Gilbert's departure might be a strategic retreat to gather strength for his next deadly strike.

However, Renard wouldn't stand still. Since his opponent was lying low, he also needed to seize the time to accumulate strength.

He dismissed his subordinates and began to sort through his gains from yesterday.

"Host attributes: Strength: 10, Agility: 10, Intelligence: 6, Charisma: 6, Potential: 3, Unallocated Skill Points: 5."

"Host Strength Skill Levels: Iron Bones: 4, Strong Attack: 3, Precision: 3."

"Host Agility Skill Levels: Riding Skill: 0, Martial Arts: 5, Control: 4."

"Host Intelligence Skill Levels: Battle Qi Usage: 0, Eidetic Memory: 5, Tactical Command: 0."

"Host Charisma Skill Levels: Command: 2, Valor: 2, Near Death: 2."

He had completed three goblin hunting quests, exceeding the requirements for two of them, earning two random attribute points. One was added to Agility, and the other to Intelligence.

Because Gilbert had left, Renard's desire for strength had significantly decreased. His obsessive-compulsive tendencies flared up, and he added all three Potential points to Intelligence. He then allocated all his Skill Points to the Eidetic Memory skill. As for the Agility skill points, they were added to Control.

"Host attributes: Strength: 10, Agility: 10, Intelligence: 9, Charisma: 6, Potential: 0, Unallocated Skill Points: 0."

"Host Strength Skill Levels: Iron Bones: 4, Strong Attack: 3, Precision: 3."

"Host's Agility skill levels are: Riding Skill: Zero, Martial Arts: Five, Control: Five."

"Host's Intelligence skill levels are: Battle Qi Usage: Zero, Eidetic Memory: Nine, Tactical Command: Zero."

"Host's Charisma skill levels are: Command: Two, Valor: Two, Near Death: Two."

Renard's current stats were vastly different from when he started, but his strength hadn't significantly improved.

This was within reason; if his combat power could undergo such a qualitative leap in just a few days, he would have to question the System's malicious intentions.

After allocating his attribute points, just as Renard was about to close the interface, the System's prompt sound suddenly rang out, instantly plunging him into boundless ecstasy.