However, William Carter's response to him was a whip shadow—swift, precise, and ruthless!

　　Crack! The incident happened so suddenly that Paul Evans couldn't dodge, not even having time to raise his arm guard to block. Instantly, a blood-red welt appeared on his unhelmeted face.

　　With this lash, William released all the helplessness, fear, and pent-up frustration he had endured since crossing over. He made up his mind—not to be timid anymore. If those annoying rituals tried to restrain him again, he would crush them all!

　　Paul Evans was completely stunned by the blow, and David Clark was momentarily shocked as well. Affected by this upheaval, the rest of the convoy was left dazed. They didn't even notice that the grand escort of the Grand Minister of Song had arrived at Mianshang, and Edward Carter's carriage was approaching.

　　Edward Carter, who was already angry at the disorderly formation, happened to witness this scene. In his surprise, he also heard William Carter's still somewhat youthful voice.

　　“So what if my mother is a Di woman? You dare look down on me because of that?”

　　William held his head high, pointing the bloodied whip at Paul Evans and reprimanding him: “Do you know that the late Duke Wen of Jin was also the son of a Da Hu Rong woman? He wandered in exile for nineteen years, suffering all kinds of humiliation, but when he won the Battle of Chengpu and dominated the world, who dared look down on him then?”

　　“Do you know that my ancestor Zhao Xuanzi was also the son of Ji Wei, a Di woman, of low status? But when he was later established as clan leader, wielding power over Jin and commanding the feudal lords, who dared look down on him then?”

　　These words, though directed at Paul Evans, were clearly meant for David Carter.

　　He had to thank his grandfather from his previous life, who often read him the Zhao family genealogy. If nothing else, William Carter could recite the general history of the Jin State Zhao clan with his eyes closed.

　　He adjusted his heavy breathing, stirred by emotion. “To criticize a mother in front of her son is a grave disrespect. As a family retainer, to insult the lord’s son is a great transgression. Brother David, let me discipline this insolent charioteer for you!”

　　A fierce war of words left Paul Evans utterly shaken, while David Carter, always proud of his eloquence, flushed red, opened his mouth, but found himself unable to refute even half a sentence.

　　Even the deeds of the ancestor Zhao Dun had been brought up—how could he object? How could he belittle them? In fact, didn’t everyone in the Zhao clan have some Rong and Di blood? To despise William Carter's lineage was to slap himself in the face.

　　He could only grip his bow and arrows, glaring fiercely at William Carter, wishing he could shoot a few holes in him.

　　The eldest legitimate son, John Reed, seeing this, hurriedly had the charioteer drive the war chariot between the two, separating the two brothers who were on the verge of drawing swords. But as a result, the Zhao convoy became even more chaotic, and even the family Sima’s repeated scolding could not restore order.

　　The little schemer George Carter revealed a sly smile at the corner of his mouth. Although William's performance had caught him off guard, his plot had already half succeeded.

　　At this moment, an angry voice was heard: “What are you all doing?”

　　Everyone turned to look, and those who needed to dismount did so at once, those who needed to bow bowed.

　　The newcomer was none other than Edward Carter, his face frosty as ice, his fine beard trembling slightly with anger. The previously noisy convoy instantly fell silent.

　　“People say the Zhao clan’s troops are the most disciplined, always well-ordered.”

　　“But look at you—what order is there to speak of! This is clearly ‘a formation in disorder,’ just like the Zheng people at the Battle of Yanling, who were routed by our Jin army.”

　　To have angered their lord so, the Zhao retainers all looked ashamed. When the lord is humiliated, the ministers grieve; when the lord is humiliated, the ministers die. The hot-blooded family Sima even prepared to draw his sword and commit suicide.

　　David Carter gritted his teeth and spoke up first: “Reporting to Father, the one who disrupted the order was William!”

　　“Is that so?”

　　“Did your charioteer commit no offense?”

　　Paul Evans, no longer caring about the burning pain on his cheek, tumbled off the chariot and lay prostrate on the cold, muddy ground, not daring to move.

　　“Your servant deserves death…”

　　“Just now, William was right. Paul Evans spoke presumptuously, which was a grave transgression and a great disrespect.”

　　“But according to family law, your crime is not punishable by death. Today, with honored guests from Song present, it is not appropriate to carry out punishment. For now, one hundred households will be stripped from your fief, and the rest will be dealt with when we return!”

　　Paul Evans breathed a sigh of relief, kowtowed again, not even caring about the loss of his fief, only grateful to have kept his life.

　　Edward Carter's gaze turned to William Carter: “As for you, the illegitimate son—on the day of the hunt, you came riding alone, broke into my chariot formation, and disrupted my order. Do you admit your guilt?”

　　Blood dripped from the wound on Paul Evans's face, staining the ground bright red. Now, however, he quietly raised his head and exchanged a glance with his chariot master, David Carter.

　　David Carter knew his father’s temper well. Edward Carter hated nothing more than disorder among the troops. Paul Evans had already been punished, but that lowborn son, as the main culprit of the chaos, would surely not escape!

　　Jin’s military law was carved in knife and ink: those who disrupt order shall be executed!

　　He’d heard that his fourth sister, Ji Ying, had pleaded for that lowborn son, which was why he was allowed to attend today’s hunt. But in the blink of an eye, he’d caused trouble. Although Edward Carter would not go so far as to execute his own kin for the sake of righteousness, a whipping was inevitable.

　　A lowborn son—before coming of age, he should obediently shovel manure in the filthy, lowly stables!

Chapter 7: The Strife of Chariots and Riders