Taking a Beating

By the time he returned to the villa, night had completely fallen.

Qingluo and Baiwei were already waiting at the door. When they saw him return, they bowed.

"Young master, you're back."

Qingluo took the things from his hands. Seeing the huge pile of snacks, she froze for a moment before covering her mouth with a smile.

"Young master, did you make a friend today?"

"...Yeah."

Li Hanche answered without elaborating and walked straight into the living room.

He sat down on the sofa, fell silent for a while, then looked up at the two maids.

His gaze lingered on them for several breaths.

Qingluo and Baiwei were baffled by his stare and exchanged a glance.

"Young master, what is it?"

Li Hanche did not answer directly. Instead, he asked,

"Are you Soul Masters?"

Qingluo and Baiwei exchanged another look, then nodded.

"In reply to the young master, Baiwei and I are both Soul Masters. I am a level twenty-eight agility-type Battle Soul Master, while Baiwei is a level twenty-five control-type Battle Soul Master. His Highness the Crown Prince sent us to care for you because, should anything unexpected happen, we would be able to protect you."

Level twenty-eight.

Level twenty-five.

Li Hanche calculated silently. Reaching that level at their age did not make them geniuses, but they were certainly not lacking.

As expected, the people Qian Renxue sent were no ordinary maids.

He nodded, then made a request that left both maids stunned.

"I need you to do me a favor."

He seemed to be choosing his words, or perhaps making one last bit of mental preparation.

Then he took a deep breath and raised his head, his expression so serious that he did not seem like a six-year-old child.

"I need to be beaten."

Qingluo and Baiwei's eyes widened at the same time.

"With a whip."

He added.

The living room remained silent for three full breaths.

Qingluo opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Her expression shifted from shock to confusion, then from confusion to worry.

"Young master, you... what did you say?"

"I said, I need you to whip me."

Li Hanche repeated calmly.

"I need to temper my body and strengthen my physique. Taking a beating is the first step. A whip delivers even force and covers a wide area, making it the most suitable..."

If he did not explain it clearly, these two maids would probably think he had some strange fetish.

Qingluo and Baiwei looked at each other.

They had been sent to look after a six-year-old child. They had imagined all sorts of situations they might encounter: tantrums, picky eating, refusing to sleep, homesickness, being bullied by classmates.

But they had never imagined this.

A six-year-old child was earnestly asking them to whip him, on the grounds of "body tempering."

"But, young master..."

Baiwei spoke hesitantly.

"This... this is too strange. How could getting beaten make someone stronger?"

"It can."

Li Hanche cut her off.

He did not explain the cultivation art any further. He merely fixed those clear black-and-white eyes on the two maids.

"I know you need to report my situation to His Highness the Crown Prince. But there's no need to report this."

Qingluo's expression changed slightly.

Li Hanche looked at her, his tone calm.

"His Highness the Crown Prince is busy with countless affairs. There's no need to bother him with such a small matter. Besides, if you report it, he probably won't agree. If he doesn't agree, I won't be able to cultivate. If I can't cultivate, I'll be unhappy."

He paused.

"If I'm unhappy, it won't be easy for you to explain yourselves either, right?"

It sounded perfectly reasonable.

Yet Qingluo and Baiwei still felt that something was off.

"Young master, this..."

"Come on."

Li Hanche stood and walked to the open space in the center of the living room, then turned his back to them.

"Don't hit my face. Anywhere else is fine. Start gently, then gradually increase the force. Stop when I tell you to."

He took off his outer robe, revealing his thin shoulders and back.

He was only six years old, his frame not yet fully grown. The outlines of his shoulder blades were plainly visible through his thin inner clothes.

The hand holding Qingluo's whip trembled.

She could not do it.

Neither could Baiwei.

They were Soul Masters, maids sent by His Highness the Crown Prince to care for a child—not to beat one.

What if they seriously hurt him? How would they explain themselves?

But Li Hanche turned his head and looked at them.

There was none of a child's innocence in that glance, nor any willful stubbornness. There was only a seriousness that made them unable to refuse him.

"Please."

He said.

Two words, soft yet heavy.

Qingluo bit her lip, took a deep breath, and walked to the wall. She took down a thin riding crop from a hook.

It was not a true instrument of punishment. It was the sort of light whip used to gently urge horses pulling a carriage, with little force behind it—at most, it would leave a red mark.

She returned and stood a step behind Li Hanche. Her grip on the whip tightened again and again.

"Young master, I'm starting."

"Mm."

When the first lash fell, Li Hanche's body tensed abruptly. It hurt.

It fucking hurt.

The thin whip struck his back like a red-hot wire slicing across his skin. A burning pain exploded instantly, spreading outward from the point of impact.

A faint red welt visibly rose on his back.

He clenched his teeth and made no sound.

At the same time, the Nine-Turn Tyrant Body Art began to circulate within him.

A warm current rose from his lower abdomen and flowed through his meridians toward the red welt on his back.

Wherever the current passed, the pain did not lessen, but it was joined by a strange sense of fullness.

It was as though the wound left by the whip was being filled and reinforced by some power.

This was how the Nine-Turn Tyrant Body Art was cultivated.

External blows damaged the body, while the cultivation art repaired the damage and strengthened the affected tissue. Repeating this cycle gradually increased the body's strength.

The heavier the blows, the more Soul Power the repair consumed, and the more obvious the strengthening effect became.

Of course, that was assuming he was not beaten to death.

"Keep going."

He said through clenched teeth.

Qingluo's whip fell again.

The second lash, the third, the fourth...

With every lash, Li Hanche's body trembled faintly, but he never dodged or called for her to stop. Even his muffled groans were suppressed to the barest whisper.

His back was already covered in crisscrossing red welts, and some spots had begun to ooze blood.

Yet his gaze remained clear.

The Tyrant Body Art circulated rapidly within him, the warm current washing over the fresh wounds through his meridians again and again.

He could clearly feel the skin and muscles on his back becoming tighter and tougher at a speed invisible to the naked eye.

The change was minuscule, but it was real.

Baiwei stood to the side, clutching the corners of her clothes, her eyes already red.

Several times, she wanted to step forward and stop Qingluo. But every time she saw Li Hanche's ramrod-straight back and unmoving figure, her feet froze in place.

Qingluo's whip grew slower and slower, and the force behind it lighter and lighter.

It was not because she lacked strength. She simply could not bring herself to continue.

There was not a single uninjured patch left on the child's back. Red welts overlapped red welts, and in some places, beads of blood had begun to seep out and trickle down his thin back.

Her eyes had reddened as well.

"Young master, enough... that's enough for today..."

Her voice trembled with tears.

Li Hanche did not answer.

His consciousness was immersed in the circulation of the Tyrant Body Art.

He could feel that amid the repeated damage and repair, the skin on his back was undergoing a qualitative transformation—what had once been soft skin was becoming firm, as though a layer of thin, supple armor were slowly taking shape.

But it was still not enough.

The first turn of the Nine-Turn Tyrant Body Art, "Copper Skin," required him to temper the skin over his entire body until ordinary blades could scarcely harm it.

He had not even finished tempering his back, much less reached the completion of Copper Skin.

Still, this was as far as they could go today.

It was not that he could not endure any longer. Qingluo and Baiwei simply could not take it anymore.

If they continued, the two maids might break down first.

"...Stop."

The sound of the whip falling to the floor came from behind him.

Qingluo threw down the whip and rushed forward. Her hands trembled as she tried to inspect his injuries, but she did not dare touch him. Tears streamed down her face.

"Young master... why put yourself through this..."

Baiwei hurried over as well, already carrying medicine and clean gauze in her hands.

Tears shimmered in her eyes too, though she was slightly more composed than Qingluo. She crouched down and carefully began applying medicine to Li Hanche's back.

The medicinal powder touched the wounds, bringing another wave of stinging pain.

Li Hanche clenched his teeth, and a layer of fine sweat beaded on his forehead.

Did it hurt? Of course it hurt. But after the pain came strength.

In this world, becoming stronger was the only thing that mattered.

Only by becoming stronger could he avoid being manipulated at others' whims, avoid becoming cannon fodder in the chaos to come, and be worthy of the words he had spoken in the classroom today: "The entire Douluo Continent will be beneath my feet."

He had already made that bold claim.

Then he had to turn it into the truth with his strength.