Lena was pondering how to present her thoughts in a way that wouldn't make her seem like just a soft-hearted altruist when she noticed Abby quickly scribbling something on a piece of paper and showing it to her.
After glancing at the paper and closing her eyes for a moment of thought, Lena said, "Alright, your indifference toward strangers is something I can't argue against. After all, those ten years were truly difficult for me.
"But hearing about how many people in England reached out to help us when you were stranded on Mars, I think we should respond in kind.
"Regardless of their motivations or whatever promises you made to certain people, it's impossible that everyone was doing it for personal gain. Some genuinely helped us selflessly.
"And if others extended a helping hand, shouldn't we respond in turn? Don't forget, not everyone is cold and unfeeling. Back when we lived in that tiny apartment in London, there were still good people."
Hearing Sunday's report that Abby was the one who suggested downplaying him to emphasize Lena's message, William felt an itch to teach her a lesson.
His mother was no saint, and anyone who thought otherwise was mistaken. Before William even inherited his title as Earl, Lena was already scheming behind the scenes, contributing to the rapid decline of the previous Earl's health through manipulation orchestrated by MI6.
The saintly image Abby was trying to push was too fragile and bound to backfire. William didn't want his mother to become a target for accusations of hypocrisy.
Feigning hesitation, William secretly wrote down his thoughts and had Sunday relay them to Lena before replying with a tone of reluctant agreement.
"Fine, if that's what you want, go ahead. My only job is to make money. Abby is in charge of managing the companies anyway. Let's just hope no one calls us fools."
Lena, reading William's message through Sunday, smiled and said, "Don't worry. I know exactly who deserves kindness and who should be kept at a distance.
"During those years working two jobs, I encountered plenty of terrible people, and they're not worth anyone's sympathy. I'll make sure to keep them far away.
"We'll only help those who are kind and hardworking, those who genuinely strive to provide for their families.
"As for the companies, I'll start with those that pose fewer challenges. If things go well, I might even set aside half the profits as bonuses for the employees.
"But if, as you said, some people are too greedy, then I'll leave them to fend for themselves.
"No matter how much money we have, it's impossible to sustain freeloaders. With that money, we'd be better off donating directly to single mothers and orphans.
"If anyone tries to play dirty, no one in England can outspend us. I'll make sure they understand that while we want to give back to society, we're not fools or pushovers."
Lena's firm stance gave viewers a new perspective on her.
Her mention of working two jobs in the past made her and William's attitude toward life unsurprising. After all, most people shared similar views.
"Glad you understand," William said with a hearty laugh. "But if the acquisition prices aren't reasonable, just let them manage on their own.
"Goodbye, Mom. I've got some potatoes to take care of."
"Oh, right," William added, slapping his forehead. "I almost forgot. Can you transfer $200 million in cash to the World Children's Fund for me?
"Sunday will tell you which of my donation accounts to use. One of them should have a little over $300 million, and the other about $1 billion."
Pausing briefly, William apologized, "Sorry, Mom. I haven't touched these accounts in nearly two years and forgot the exact amounts."
The casual way William mentioned having $1.34 billion sitting untouched in donation accounts left viewers feeling a mix of envy and despair.
Many could only think, Why can't I be William's parent, sibling, or child?
The idea of being his child seemed especially appealing. Titles, wealth, and status would all come effortlessly.
However, knowing William's strict upbringing in line with his cultural roots, it was clear a son would face intense discipline. A daughter, on the other hand, would likely enjoy a life of luxury.
It didn't take Sunday long to inform Lena about the two accounts: the $3.4 million taken from the Assassin Brotherhood leader Sloan and the $1 billion from the Hammer family William had eliminated.
Although these funds had passed through Swiss banks controlled by the Priory of Sion, William, who didn't lack money, had left the potentially problematic funds untouched. Donating them now felt like cleansing his hands of them.
As long as the accounts used for the transfer were legitimate and compliant with regulations, no one would dare question the fund's integrity.
After $200 million was transferred, William pretended to be unaware that his conversation with Lena had been broadcast. Smiling, he stepped out of the cockpit and ended the broadcast with a few final remarks.
He had no intention of personally planting potatoes, and the audience was too preoccupied with speculation about Lena's plans to care about watching him farm.
The focus shifted to which English infrastructure company Lena might acquire and how the family would manage it. Many English citizens began hoping their own companies might be bought, especially after hearing about the possibility of sharing half the annual profits as bonuses.
William opened a portal, summoned engineering robots to handle the planting, and returned to his underground suite in Oxford Castle for some rest.
The next morning, back on Mars, William saw the neatly arranged rows of forty pots, each planted with potato chunks, prepared by the robots.
Shaking his head, he said to Sunday, "Do you think a human like me would have the time or inclination to plant potatoes and then arrange these pots so perfectly? Would I take the effort to align the volcanic ash in the pots with such precision?"
"Apologies, sir," Sunday replied after a brief pause and directed the robots to rearrange the pots into a slightly messier layout.
By the afternoon, the robots smeared volcanic mud onto William's suit to create the appearance of manual labor.
William then resumed the broadcast with a smile. "Apologies for not showing you the potato planting process—I had to preserve my image."
Holding the broadcast sphere, William gestured at the slightly disheveled pots and said helplessly, "Even though the onboard AI system guided me step by step, I'm just a young man who grew up in a city and planted crops for the first time.
"Messy or not, it is what it is.
"But according to the AI's assessment, these potatoes should all survive.
"Since the spaceship can provide constant sunlight, they should mature in about fifty days.
"That means when my current food supplies run out in fifteen days, the potatoes will be ready for harvest.
"With an average yield of five potatoes per plant, forty plants should produce 200 potatoes.
"After reserving the best ten for replanting, I'll have 190 left. If I eat three per day, by the time the next batch matures in fifty days, I'll still have forty potatoes left, which means I might even enjoy the occasional extra meal.
"Living here for a year or two shouldn't be a problem."
(End of Chapter)
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