Zhang Daoming didn't answer directly. He just grabbed the wineskin at his side, tilted his head back, and took a large swig of cheap, fiery liquor.
The burning liquid seared his throat, but it couldn't wash away the bitterness in his heart.
"Perhaps."
Setting down the wineskin, Zhang Daoming replied in a low voice, then lowered his head again, his gaze falling upon the rippling water.
Once upon a time, he had been the recognized prodigy of his generation in Ning'an Prefecture, proud and arrogant.
He hadn't even given much thought to the so-called Ning'an Ten Heroes.
His goal was the Dragon and Tiger List, a gathering of the realm's greatest heroes.
However, all his pride was ruthlessly shattered in that one battle on Wushan Mountain.
That young man from the Government Office, who had appeared out of nowhere, had swept the field with almost crushing dominance.
