Walking through the silent, shaded forest paths, Gu Zong vented his stubborn frustration on the small pebbles scattered in his way, kicking them with irritation. He muttered to himself, his voice thick with annoyance:

  "I should have just stayed home and eaten Grandfather’s roasted peanuts. They are a thousand times better than this. At least I would have been free from this headache named Han Wuang Shi."

  He looked into the distance and let out a long, weary sigh.

  "I have no idea what kind of misery I’ve stumbled into."

  As he walked further, the sound of muffled violence reached his ears the distinct, sickening thud of someone being beaten. Following the noise to a clearing in the heart of the forest by a riverbank, he froze. The sight before him was staggering. A group of Han Clan officials stood there, led by Han Juan Hao himself. Han Wuang Shi was forced onto his knees, his back bared as heavy whips lashed across his skin. Wuang Shi sat as motionless as a stone statue, absorbing the agony without a sound.

  Seeing this, a memory flashed in Gu Zong’s mind the moment Wuang Shi had plunged into the freezing water to save him, and the scarred tissue he had glimpsed on the Prince’s back.

  Gu Zong watched for a few moments as the lashing continued relentlessly. He initially turned to leave, but stopped. His eyes drifted to Wuang Shi’s wrist. To his surprise, the red silk band was still tied firmly there unbroken.

  Suddenly, a devastating strike landed, causing Wuang Shi to collapse forward, coughing up blood onto the earth. Han Juan Hao drew his sword, the steel singing a lethal note.

  "If you ever utter those words again, Wuang Shi, I will not hesitate to take your life!"

  he roared, leveling the tip of his blade at Wuang Shi’s throat.

  But before the edge could pierce the skin, a sharp, gleaming blade tore through the air. It clashed against Han Juan Hao’s sword with a violent spark, forcing him back. Startled by the sudden intervention, the Clan Leader retreated. Standing before him was a masked figure, face shrouded in black cloth, wielding a sword etched with dark, lethal stripes.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Wuang Shi tried to rise, but the muscles of his back were shredded, his body failing him. Han Juan Hao lunged at the masked intruder, but the stranger was incredibly adept. The Clan Leader’s blade hissed past the masked man’s eyes, yet the intruder didn't even flinch. In response, the masked man delivered a fluid, spinning strike. His sword left a trail of light in the air, moving with such terrifying speed that as Han Juan Hao leaped back, several strands of his hair were shorn off by the blade.

  Han Juan Hao’s footing faltered. He stared at the shining arc of the stranger's steel, his eyes wide with newfound caution. Before he could mount another attack, the sound of footsteps echoed from the deep woods. Realizing others were approaching, Han Juan Hao cast one final, murderous glare at the masked savior and vanished into the shadows with his men.

  The intruder pulled the cloth from his face. When Wuang Shi looked up, he was stunned. The man who had risked everything to save him was none other than Gu Zong.

  Just then, Prince Mo Shiwang and Prince Mo Zhenhai emerged from the trees, drawn by the sound of combat. Seeing them arrive, Gu Zong turned away without a word. He didn't offer Wuang Shi a single glance or a helping hand; he simply disappeared into the brush. Wuang Shi’s eyes followed his retreating figure until he was gone.

  A while later, Gu Zong stood leaning against a tree, waiting. He watched from a distance as Mo Shiwang and Mo Zhenhai supported the battered Wuang Shi, leading him back. Gu Zong followed them at a distance, his eyes unwillingly fixed on Wuang Shi’s back, which was now a gruesome map of fresh blood and torn flesh. He said nothing. He thought nothing. He simply walked.

  When they finally reached Fukun Xueyuan, Grandmaster Kang Jue was waiting. The moment the Grandmaster saw Wuang Shi’s horrific condition, his shock instantly curdled into a towering rage. Without asking for an explanation or allowing a single word of defense, he thundered:

  "Gu Zong! You have broken the rules yet again. You shall not escape punishment this time. I sentence you to one hundred lashes!"

  Wuang Shi’s eyes widened in shock. He tried to speak, to explain, but the sheer agony in his body robbed him of his voice. Without asking for his consent, Mo Shiwang and Mo Zhenhai began leading him toward the isolated quarters they were forced to share.

  Wuang Shi kept looking back. He saw Gu Zong standing there, indifferent and unmoving. Gu Zong did not look at him.

  The Grandmaster’s disciples stepped forward and forced Gu Zong to kneel in the corridor. A heavy wooden whip was brought out. As the first strikes began to fall, there was nothing in Gu Zong’s eyes but a hollow emptiness.

  From the distance, as he was being carried away, Wuang Shi watched the scene the falling whip, the silent boy until the heavy doors of their room finally swung shut, cutting off the view.