Extra Young Horse Riding a Bamboo Stick, Green Plums Brewing Wine Part Fourteen

"I won't admit defeat! Left Shore, just you wait. One year—one year from now, I'll challenge you again. I swear I'll beat you!" Dorian Owen lay on his bed, wailing. This time, Left Shore hadn't held back; if Dorian wasn't bedridden for three months, he wouldn't be able to get up at all. And likewise...

Left Shore was also lying in bed, recovering from his injuries.

A hundred lashes—Left Shore wouldn't be able to get out of bed for two months.

Three months later, Left Shore and Dorian Owen both recovered. They bounced back into the Assassin Alliance together—well, only Dorian was really bouncing.

Learning from last time, Dorian Owen stopped slacking off. To defeat Left Shore, he told himself he had to give it his all!

For the next nine months, whatever training Left Shore did, Dorian Owen did the same. He even secretly asked his master for extra lessons, learning assassination and killing techniques.

Dorian worked hard, he pushed himself to the limit—everything he did was to beat Left Shore.

Nine months later, Dorian challenged Left Shore again. This time, he didn't bother looking cool or wielding a heavy sword—every bit of his preparation was for victory. But...

Under everyone's gaze, Dorian lost again. Left Shore stomped on his right cheek, and all his protests became muffled grunts...

"Mmmph, mmmph..." I can't believe I lost. Last time I was careless, but this time I really prepared so carefully.

"Mmmph, mmmph..." This can't be real. I must be having a nightmare—a terrifying nightmare. I need to wake up, fast.

...

Dorian lost again. This time, he couldn't even find an excuse to comfort himself—he hadn't wasted time picking out clothes, hadn't exhausted himself dragging around a heavy sword, hadn't gotten lost or fallen into a ditch. Left Shore beat him fair and square.

It was just too sad!

Once again, Dorian was bedridden, crying as he recovered: "Master, you said I was stronger than Left Shore. So why did I still lose?"

"Master, you lied to me. You clearly said I could definitely beat Left Shore."

"Master, I hate you so much. I've decided not to talk to you for three days."

All those complaints, the old monster just pretended not to hear. But the last one was too much, so he asked, "Which three days?"

Without thinking, Dorian replied, "The day before yesterday, yesterday, and today."

"Great, that means there's only an hour and a half left. Good disciple, I'll come find you in two hours." The old monster patted Dorian's face—right where Left Shore had stomped on him—making Dorian's tears burst out again from the pain.

Seeing this, the old monster slipped away, leaving Dorian alone to roll around in bed...

So mean, so mean—even Master didn't care about him anymore.

Dorian yelled and screamed, using all his strength to try and get everyone's attention. But after bawling half the night, not a single person came to comfort him.

No use—the old monsters had gone off to have a talk with Left Shore.

"Left Shore, can't you let Dorian win just once? If you let him win, we'll owe you a huge favor."

"Left Shore, no matter how hard you beat Dorian, it's never as bad as a hundred lashes. Why do you have to go so far?"

"Left Shore, you know Dorian is the Young Master—the future lord of the Alliance. How can you be so ruthless with him?"

"Left Shore, even if you won't let Dorian win, could you at least go easier on him next time? He's still young—what if he ends up crippled?"

"Left Shore..."

Each elder pleaded in turn, and by the end their demands kept getting lower. But Left Shore still ignored them. In the end, the elders all looked to Left Shore's master: "Make your disciple speak up."

"Disciple..."

Left Shore gave his master face; as soon as his master spoke, he answered right away: "Assassins only have employers, not little lords. I will never go easy—if you want to win, win for real. Winners win, losers lose. If you want to beat me, bring real skill."

"How hard or light I hit isn't up to me—it's up to you. However hard you beat me, I'll hit Dorian twice as hard."

"If Dorian might get crippled, I'm even younger than he is."

A threat—a naked threat. The old monsters were furious. They didn't believe for a second that they couldn't handle this brat.

He dared threaten them?

Beat him—beat him to death!

This time, even Left Shore's master couldn't help him. Left Shore was flogged with two hundred lashes and lay in bed for half a year. As soon as he healed, the first thing he did was set himself an even stricter training regimen, then...

He didn't wait for Dorian to challenge him—he struck first.

He beat Dorian to a pulp—so badly that Dorian had to recover in bed for a whole year.

The old monsters were furious and beat him again...

Three hundred lashes!

Left Shore lay in bed for eight months. When he recovered, Dorian ended up bedridden for another year and a half...

The old monsters were so angry they wanted to kill someone. They never expected Left Shore to be so stubborn. This time, they didn't dare inflict serious injuries again. After some discussion, they agreed to talk things over with Left Shore, hoping everyone could compromise. But...

Left Shore said, "Never. Unless you kill me."

"You think we wouldn't dare kill you?" The old monsters were furious. Brat, your skills were taught by us!

Left Shore wasn't afraid at all. "Go ahead." He sounded utterly fearless, but his hand gripped his sword tightly, blood-red eyes staring down the elders, radiating a 'jade and stone both shattered' resolve...

"Now that's a real assassin in the making—his killing intent is no less than ours."

Tsk tsk... The old monsters immediately changed their tune and started praising him.

"It's just kids squabbling, nothing serious. Left Shore, you're just too intense."

"Still, you were disrespectful to your master and the elders. That deserves punishment—how should we handle it?"

"Twenty lashes, that should do it."

"Too harsh! I say ten is just right."

...

Right in front of Left Shore, the old monsters went from shouting for blood one second to acting all friendly the next, considering his feelings at every turn. Left Shore was utterly confused—he couldn't make sense of the way these old monsters thought.

In the end, Left Shore got ten lashes.

For someone used to two or three hundred lashes at a time, ten was nothing. Left Shore walked away as if nothing had happened.

As soon as he left, the Assassin Alliance elders dropped their friendly act and started cursing: "Brat, so cocky—do your parents even know?"

"Little punk, if Dorian wasn't always worrying about you and forbidding us from touching you, I'd have killed you ages ago."

"Brat, so arrogant—you're a born assassin."

"Today I let you off easy, but I'll work you to death in the future. Hmph... No Young Master for assassins, right? I'll bring you a hundred clients—if I don't wear you out, I'll shut down the Alliance myself."

"Brat, old ginger's still spicier—the days are long, just wait and see."

The old monsters cursed and grumbled, but if you looked closely, there was no anger or resentment in their eyes—only admiration for Left Shore.

Sure, an assassin only needs to kill for money. But only those with true resolve, who aren't afraid of death, can reach the top. The old monsters believed that, given time, Left Shore would become the best in the business—maybe even surpass them.

With a prodigy like this, they really couldn't bear to crush his spirit!