This was the case with the Zuoxian King of the Western Rong. He did not need useless sons, he liked warriors who could survive.
Nurhadu's outstanding performance made him stand out among all the children and finally qualified to step into his father's tent.
There was a luxurious throne covered with tiger skin, the mutton on the copper plate was more fragrant, and the water in the pot was clearer and sweeter.
His father generously told him that he could take whatever he liked.
Because he is today's Baturu, his proud little warrior.
But Nurha only wanted to choose what his mother liked and what his mother loved to eat.
He knew that his mother never liked to eat the things on the table.
In the end, he chose a pot of clear water, which was as clear and lively as the mountain spring water his mother had described.
"It seems you are really a southern barbarian, just like your mother."
The smile on Zuo Xian Wang Zhahemu's face gradually disappeared. Nurha knew that he had made his father unhappy, but he didn't care.
In the world of the Xirong people, only those with great strength and extraordinary abilities can win glory and the respect of others.
He is not afraid, he knows he still has a long way to go and he will continue to grow and become stronger.
One day, he would make his father afraid of him...
After returning home, he poured the pot of clear water into the wooden basin. His mother stared at the clear water in the basin, looked at her face reflected in the water, then gently stroked her son's scratched cheek and hugged him tightly in her arms.
At that moment, Nurha thought that good days were coming for them and their son.
Snuggling up to his mother at night, he thought about how he could hunt more wild wolves, defeat more black bears, and then get a separate tent so that his mother could wash her face with clear spring water every day.
That night, my mother slept very quietly, so quietly that I could hardly hear her breathing. When the sun rose over the grassland, she did not wake up.
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