The sky was already nearing dusk. Looking at the patch of waist-high withered grass ahead, unsure whether poisonous snakes or insects might be lurking within, William Carter finally stopped in his tracks. For safety’s sake, he had to leave the woods before nightfall.

　　“I knew it, if this could really be predicted, then Philip Scott would truly be a divine fortune-teller.”

　　Having failed to capture the white elk and wasted most of the day, he probably wouldn’t win first place in this hunt. He could only hope that, with that unlucky black bear, he wouldn’t end up at the bottom among the four brothers.

　　Still, today hadn’t been a total loss. Thinking of this, a faint smile appeared at the corner of William Carter’s mouth. That fortune-teller named Philip Scott was probably already back at the Mian guesthouse by now. Surely he wouldn’t speak ill of his lifesaver in front of Edward Carter.

　　He was about to turn around when an evening breeze happened to sweep through the woods. The dense blades of grass swayed in the wind, but not quite naturally.

　　William Carter seemed to sense something. Looking more closely, he indeed saw that rare white female deer lying hidden among the thick reeds!

　　William Carter was overjoyed—searching high and low only to find it effortlessly!

　　The white deer seemed to be injured, its leg bound by a rope, its hoof broken. It must have been caught in a trap set by some unknown hunter, but now William Carter had the good fortune.

　　Seeing the young rider who had been chasing it all the way approach with a cold, gleaming bronze short sword, the white deer seemed to sense its doom. It raised its head and gazed at William with a dazed, pleading look, as if begging for mercy.

　　That look—William Carter felt he had seen it somewhere before, but couldn’t recall exactly where. Perhaps it was a memory from this life?

　　Yes, those soulful black eyes of the doe were just like his sister Henry Blake’s, on the day her mother, Lady Jinjuan, suddenly passed away—filled with the same terror and unease.

　　As if touched in the only soft spot in his heart, William Carter’s raised right arm trembled slightly, though he gripped the bronze short sword tightly, unable to strike.

　　What’s more, now that he was closer, he could see the white doe’s slightly swollen belly—she was clearly pregnant. That made it even harder for him to go through with it.

　　William Carter muttered to himself in self-consolation, “The rules of hunting: do not kill pregnant females, do not harm young animals, leave a way out during a hunt, always show mercy…”

　　But in his heart, another voice urged him to strike: If he offered up this deer, he could surely win Edward Carter’s favor and take the lead in the struggle for heir!

　　The last image that flashed through his mind was the kind Henry Blake’s slightly furrowed brows…

　　After a fierce inner struggle, William Carter finally sighed and brought the short sword down hard!

　　……

　　Night was falling. Beneath the brilliantly lit high platform at Mian, the hunters of The Carters returned one after another, presenting their game to Edward Carter. These mountain delicacies would be served at the banquet for guests and “to fill the lord’s kitchen,” with the rest salted and dried in preparation for the twelfth month’s winter sacrificial rites.

　　Edward Carter stroked his fine beard, absentmindedly inspecting the offerings, but his mind was still on that fleeting, beautiful white deer.

　　“If it could be captured… would it mean that my The Carters clan would prosper?”

　　Edward Carter was both an enterprising lord and a devout believer in fate and divination—two things that were not at all contradictory.

　　After all, the history of the The Carters clan was filled with the supernatural. For example, after the disaster at the Lower Palace, the orphaned The Carters regained their lands largely thanks to the mysterious words of a shaman.

　　After exterminating the entire The Carters family, Duke Jing of Jin had a dream. In it, he saw a terrifying ghost—tall, hair hanging to the ground, beating its chest and leaping about, a truly fearsome sight.

　　The ghost berated Duke Jing in a harsh voice: “Wicked, foolish ruler! What crime have my descendants committed? You are cruel and unjust, killing the innocent. I have already appealed to the Supreme God in Heaven, and now I have come to take your life.”

　　With that, it lunged at Duke Jing. Terrified, he fled into the inner palace, but the ghost smashed through the main gates and followed. Duke Jing hid in his chambers, but the ghost broke through the door and pursued him inside. Fleeing in terror, Duke Jing threw off his covers and woke up screaming, and from then on, he never recovered.

　　At that time, near the capital Jiangdu, there was a shaman in a place called Sangtian who could divine the affairs of spirits. Duke Jing summoned the shaman to the palace, and the shaman’s divination matched the dream exactly, saying the ghost was the spirit of a former The Carters minister, come to avenge the destruction of the The Carters line!

　　The more Duke Jing thought about it, the more frightened he became. With The Carters’s loyal supporter Arthur Harris pleading on their behalf, Duke Jing went along with it and that very day ordered Michael Carter’s reinstatement and the restoration of the The Carters lands.

　　Of course, Duke Jing’s illness never improved. Just as the shaman had predicted, he died suddenly during the wheat harvest, becoming the only ruler in history to choke to death after falling into a latrine—a story laughed at for a thousand years.

　　Given such a mysterious family revival, it was no wonder Edward Carter was superstitious about spirits and divination. This was the normal faith of most people in the Spring and Autumn period.

　　John Reed, David Clark, and George Lane, the three elder brothers, had already returned, but the youngest, William, was still nowhere to be seen. According to his skinny stable boy, William was still searching for the white deer in the forest. Perhaps, at any moment, good news would arrive!