That was a general clad in armor. With just one distant glance, the entire tiger fell into confusion, only to wake up lying on the ground, crouching.
Master looked at him with disdain. A White Tiger should carry the aura of a White Tiger. How could it ever bow down with the character 'king' written over its head?
Then—special training→ severe injuries→ near death→ healing.
Days went by, one after another. Even though he was spitting blood every day and his fur was dyed red, Zhang Xian tirelessly enjoyed it. On the first day, he was severely injured and couldn't move, but on the second day, he was lively and brisk, eager to find Master.
The only problem was that he had never even once called out "Master."
At first, it was hard to pronounce, sounding like "hoo-hoo," and later, it became impossible to utter. After meeting more people, learning to read, and understanding more, he lost the desire to call out the word.
