The Might of the Hungry Ghost Path

"The master you stake your life on serving doesn't seem to care much whether you live or die."

Chen Yuan looked at Xue Ju, the corners of his mouth twitching into a mocking smile.

Zhao Jingyuan's father was cold-hearted by nature, and Zhao Jingyuan was no different.

Xue Ju was utterly devoted to him. Even now, with his old injury flaring up and death closing in, he still told Zhao Jingyuan to escape first.

Although Zhao Jingyuan could have done nothing by staying, turning and fleeing without so much as a word was still enough to chill a loyal heart.

"My sole purpose is to protect His Highness. Only if he lives does my life have meaning. If His Highness dies, what face would I have to return to the Capital City, even if I survived?"

A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Xue Ju's mouth. He glanced back at Zhao Jingyuan, but what he saw was not the fleeing third prince.

Instead, he saw the rear courtyard of the Duke of Qi's Estate more than thirty years ago, on a spring day when the crabapple blossoms were in full bloom.

He had broken a teacup and been punished by the steward, forced to kneel beneath the covered walkway as he was whipped until his flesh was torn and bloody.

"He's so pitiful. Please stop beating him."

That voice had been light and sweet, like heavenly music to Xue Ju's ears. He would never forget the face he saw when he opened his blood-blurred eyes—pure and exquisitely beautiful, lovelier even than the crabapple blossoms.

For that instant, Xue Ju had even believed a celestial maiden had descended to save him.

The young lady had rescued him, arranged for him to learn martial arts under the head of the