The Carters's palace charioteer was named Charles King. He was thirty years old, had a square face, a full black beard, and a dignified appearance. King—this was no ordinary clan name; it meant his ancestors were likely princes of the Zhou dynasty.

Looking over the four-hundred-year history of the The Carters, it was a long journey from being commoners to grandees, and finally to ministers.

But the family of this Charles King had taken the opposite path: from royal nobility to ministers, then from ministers to impoverished scholars, and finally fallen so low as to serve as retainers for others. No one knew when they had fled from that tiny patch of Chengzhou, and for several generations had served as charioteers for the The Carters.

At this moment, Charles King wore a stern expression, all business.

“House law states that no one may use the war chariots without authorization!”

“But Father summoned all his sons to join the hunt. Of course, that includes me.”

“Words alone are not enough. You must have a token to dispatch the chariot.”

“I am my father's son, his own flesh and blood! Do you really think I would take the chariot and run away?”

“We eat our lord’s bread, we serve our lord’s cause. Without the master’s token, even if the Marquis of Jin himself came, there would be no exception.”

Faced with such stubbornness, after going in circles, William Carter found himself at a loss.

According to the loyalty logic of this era, even if the ruler, or even the Son of Heaven himself, arrived, a retainer could still justifiably ignore them.

The Legalist tradition of the Warring States came from the Three Jins, and the Legalists of the Three Jins came from the The Carters. His own father, Edward Carter, had a strong inclination toward the rule of law, and ten years ago had even helped draft and publish Jin’s first written code.

Following the principle that one must first govern the family before ruling the state, the The Carters household naturally had its own written house laws, so what Charles King said was not untrue.

Moreover, even if he managed to get a war chariot, he would still need two attendants of “scholar” rank to serve as his aides.

The charioteer, or “yurong,” had to control four galloping warhorses—a technical skill. And if the road was bad, the “cheyou,” responsible for getting down to push or even carry the chariot, needed great strength. Where was William Carter supposed to find such people on short notice?

Just then, the sound of wheels and neighing horses was heard, and a beautifully decorated four-horse war chariot rolled out of the carriage house.

On the left side of the carriage stood a young gentleman with a pale, beardless face. He was dressed in splendid clothes, wore a hunting cap, carried a longbow over his shoulder, and had a deerskin quiver at his waist. This was William Carter’s elder uncle-brother, George Carter.

According to Henry Blake, the sons of The Carters would gather in the afternoon and head to the nearby Mianshang, joining the family convoy to await the clan leader Edward Carter and the distinguished guest from Song for inspection.

The head of the family, Edward Carter, had four sons and one daughter: the eldest, John Reed; the second, David Clark; the third, George Lane; and the fourth daughter, Henry Blake. With 伯, 仲, 叔, and 季, all the generational names were used up just as William Carter was born.

This showed just how out of place he was among Edward Carter’s five children.

William, as he understood it, probably meant “lacking love from childhood” or “not needing love”… One could imagine how little he was favored.

In scattered memories, William Carter indeed had never received a shred of fatherly love since childhood. In Edward Carter’s eyes, he was merely a lowborn son from a “barbarian slave woman,” plain in appearance, lacking in talent, just an unnecessary branch of the The Carters bloodline—and not even a pure one.

He could not enter the public school with his legitimate brothers to study the six gentlemanly arts; each of his three brothers had their own special chariots and entourages, while William Carter was all but forgotten.

William Carter lowered his head slightly and cupped his hands in salute to George Lane.

The etiquette of the Spring and Autumn period was complex: there was one set of rituals for a scholar meeting a grandee, another for a scholar meeting another scholar, and different ones for a son meeting his brother, father, or sister… When he first transmigrated, William Carter made a huge blunder with these rituals and was dragged by the ear by Henry Blake for a harsh lesson. By now, at least in daily greetings, he could finally avoid mistakes.

It wasn’t until he passed by William that George Carter seemed to notice him, gave a surprised “eh,” and had his charioteer stop the war chariot, returning the salute casually from atop the carriage.

He then called out in a deliberately awkward adolescent voice, “William, weren’t you supposed to be reflecting on your mistakes in the stables? How come you’re here?”

George Lane deliberately stressed the words “stables” and “reflecting on mistakes.” His charioteer and cheyou glanced sideways at William, both showing a hint of contemptuous smiles.

“Just so uncle-brother knows, William is also going to join the hunt.”

George Lane looked around and immediately understood William Carter’s predicament. He smiled insincerely and said, “Indeed, Father didn’t say you couldn’t go. But William, it seems you don’t have the token to dispatch a war chariot. The house laws are strict—without the token, even John and David can do nothing. Would you like to ride with me? How about being my cheyou?”

William Carter kept his eyes down, his mind calm. Though his memories of this life were hazy, he still remembered that George Lane was a rather cunning fellow. Their relationship was not good, but today, he was being unusually enthusiastic.

To bear sword and spear as George Lane’s cheyou—on the surface, this seemed like a kind invitation from a kind brother to a down-and-out sibling.

However, among Spring and Autumn nobles, the left side of the chariot was the place of honor, so the main passenger stood on the left, the aide on the right—the cheyou—whose status was inferior to the one on the left.