Even if it were placed on his face for a whole day now, he would no longer feel anything uncomfortable about it.
As for Dabao, he would always find ways to slack off during his training sessions. It was understandable that he was exhausted to this state now, having persisted from beginning to end just once.
Dabao found Erbao's accustomed response utterly unbelievable. The training plan devised by their father was simply demonic, completely lacking in human consideration.
Even strong, healthy adults would find it difficult to complete, let alone children like them.
He reckoned only their father would come up with such an excessive method and apply it to the two of them.
After such a long time, he regretted even more how he had impulsively chosen to take their father as his master. Wasn't this just asking for suffering?
"Once you get used to it, it won't feel uncomfortable anymore. You'll be like me and feel nothing at all."
Erbao's expression was very calm, as if these words were as simple as asking what they were having for dinner. But he knew how dreadful it was to get used to.
"No... no, I still can't get used to it. I think I'm fine like this."
He didn't want to be as misguided as Erbao and torment himself. It was better to be kind to himself.
Erbao rolled his eyes, looking down on Dabao's spineless demeanor. He truly did not resemble a son of the Ling family at all.
"Father said that we are all sons of the Ling family and will be great generals in the future, fighting valiantly and defending our country on the battlefield. If you don't practice martial arts diligently now, when you get to the battlefield, will you expect others to rescue you!"
Why did he have so little ambition? If he were to go to the battlefield in the future, he would truly disgrace the Ling family.
Dabao completely disagreed with Erbao's lofty ambitions. He had no interest whatsoever in becoming a great general and fighting on the battlefield.
The reason he learned martial arts was solely to beat those few children until their teeth fell out, and then make them submit at his feet, acknowledging him as their elder brother.
With such a simple wish, all he needed was to learn some flashy moves.
Whether they were powerful or not was of no concern to him; as long as they were cool and awe-inspiring, that was enough.
"You really are... spineless!"
Erbao said speechlessly. They had the same mother and father, and were even twins.
How could the gap be so large? Having such a spineless brother, he truly felt ashamed.
He didn't even want to acknowledge Dabao as his brother; he showed no semblance of being an elder brother.
"We call it having our own aspirations. I won't force you, so you don't have to force me."
He did not feel his own aspirations were shameful at all. Their mother had said that in any of the 360 trades, one could become a master. He didn't need to stick to one path exclusively.
If one knew they were not suited for something but insisted on continuing, that would simply be a great fool. He did not want to be such a fool.
Dabao stepped forward and patted Erbao's shoulder, saying earnestly, "The matter of bringing glory to our ancestors will be left to you. I'm going out to enjoy myself."
Since Erbao was there to shoulder the responsibilities, the Ling family would not fall.
It seemed that from now on, he had to treat Erbao better. After all, whether he could have a happy life in the future depended entirely on how successful Erbao became.
Erbao rolled his eyes and likewise swatted away Dabao's hand resting on his shoulder, showing great disdain, "You're useless..."
If their father knew what Dabao was thinking, he would probably regret the guidance he had given Dabao during this time.
"What do you know!" Dabao snorted coldly and then strode into the room.
The moment he opened the door, Dabao's shocked cry echoed throughout the entire courtyard as he took in the scene before him.
Upon hearing the commotion, Erbao hurried forward to see what was happening.
"Look... look..."
Dabao shook Erbao's shoulders with great excitement, pulling him to look at the wooden sword placed on the table.
This must have been given to them by their father, a surprise he hadn't given them directly earlier.
Instantly, he felt very apologetic for his earlier dissatisfaction with their father. It was his fault for misunderstanding their father like that; it was truly inexcusable.
"I told you, since Father promised us, he wouldn't go back on his word. Look, this thing has already been delivered to us."
Dabao proudly displayed the wooden sword in front of Erbao, completely changing his previous attitude towards Ling Mohan. At this moment, his father was the greatest hero in his heart.
Erbao rolled his eyes, a few black lines appearing on his forehead. Wasn't he just dissatisfied with their father moments ago? His mood changed faster than flipping a book; he was truly impressed.
"Here... this one is yours."
A dragon symbol was carved onto his wooden sword, making it easy to identify which one was his.
Erbao didn't care; any one would do. He was, however, curious about how Dabao identified them: "How did you know which one is yours and which is mine?"
"Look, mine has a dragon carved on it. The one without a symbol is yours, so this is mine."
Following the direction Dabao pointed, Erbao stared for a long time but still couldn't see the thing that looked exactly like a worm as a dragon.
"This is clearly a worm, not a dragon at all."
Without thinking, Erbao spoke his mind.
This was met with Dabao's angry shout, "This is clearly a dragon, a dragon! How can you say it's a worm!"
Startled by the yell, Erbao froze for a moment. He looked again and still thought it looked like a worm, but to avoid provoking Dabao's anger, he went along with what he said, "It is... it is a dragon..."
Dabao nodded with satisfaction, thinking that Erbao had some discerning taste and deciding not to quibble with him for now.
"I suppose you have some taste," Dabao said unhappily, then happily trotted away with the wooden sword as if it were a treasure.
Erbao shook his head helplessly. They were born from the same womb, yet the difference was so vast. Why did he have to have such a brother? It was truly not easy.
Erbao looked at the wooden sword in his hand and mimicked their father's movements twice, but it felt too light and awkward. When would he be able to wield a sword of his own like his father?
And those sabers, spears, swords, and halberds in their father's courtyard, when would he be able to lift them? He was growing too slowly; how could he grow faster...