Zhang Ruochen put a Saint Stone Pill into Zhang Shaochu's mouth to heal the wounds, and then carried him on his back to Dragon Martial Temple.
Duanmu Xingling followed Zhang Ruochen with her hands behind her back. Her breasts were high and round. She stared at Zhang Shaochu with a look of disdain and furrowed brows. "Is he really your brother, Zhang Ruochen? I don't see a prince in him."
Zhang Ruochen had met the Eighth Prince, the Sixth Prince, the Fifth Prince and the Third Prince, but he never felt any kinship with them.
Although Zhang Shaochu was not as handsome as the other princes, he had stepped forward to help when Zhang Ruochen was in the greatest danger and at the time of his most need. That action alone was worth Zhang Ruochen's respect.
Duanmu Xingling continued, "Zhang Ruochen, you won't carry that fat guy to Dragon Martial Temple, will you?"
Zhang Ruochen said, "He is seriously injured. Can't I take him back to recuperate?"