The Blood Crown - Chapter 158

Yan Sikong evaded the guards and quietly crept to the base of the prison wall. Inside the guardroom, lamps were lit, and sounds of shouting and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

From the window paper, Yan Sikong could only see overlapping shadows, making it hard to discern how many people were inside. The cell where Feng Jianping was held was underground, and to reach it, he had to pass through this guardroom, but both inside and outside were guarded.

After a while, a patrolling guard with a lantern walked past. Yan Sikong crouched down and hid in the darkness, then silently retreated along the wall toward the southwest until his back was against a bush. He quietly dug up a cloth bundle from the loose soil, which contained the clothes prepared by the bribed prison guard.

Next, he watched the moonlight and waited.

Just past the hour of Chou (about 1-3 AM), a blaze suddenly erupted in the darkness, quickly turning into thick smoke, which grew fiercer. It was Ah Li setting a fire in the wood storage.

Soon, shouts of “Fire!” were heard.

In the darkness, many prison guards ran toward the wood storage, and the people inside the guardroom became agitated.

“Fire! What’s going on?”

“The wood storage is burning! Hurry and put it out!”

“You three stay here. Quick, you few come with me—”

Amid the chaotic footsteps, Yan Sikong moved around the eaves, peeking out. Only one guard remained at the entrance, straining to see toward the wood storage.

Taking advantage of the guard’s distraction, Yan Sikong swiftly pounced. The guard’s surprised glance flashed momentarily, and before he could make a sound, Yan Sikong covered his mouth and nose. The dazing powder in his palm was provided by She Zhun, a renowned apothecary. At such a close range, one breath would make him lose consciousness instantly.

The guard collapsed, and Yan Sikong dragged him into the shadows. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out a packet of dazing powder mixed with gunpowder from his cloak, punctured a window, and threw it inside.

Voices came from within: “What is this… narcotic, cough cough, it’s a narcotic!”

“Open the door!”

The guardroom door was roughly shoved open, and two prison guards with swords rushed out. Yan Sikong, like a shadow, emerged from the darkness, struck the first guard on the back of the neck, and dodged the second guard’s sword thrust. He seized the guard’s hand, pulled him forward, and drove his knee into the guard’s abdomen. The man vomited up the recently ingested food and drink, which smelled sour and unpleasant. Yan Sikong frowned and elbowed the guard’s back, causing him to lose consciousness completely.

Yan Sikong dragged both guards into the guardroom, tied them securely with a rope from his waist, took the keys, and descended the stone steps.

The prison cells were interconnected underground, but there were two entrances on the surface, north and south. Feng’s father and son were imprisoned in the southern and northern most cells, respectively, with guards stationed. Yan Sikong subdued two more guards along the way and finally reached Feng Jianping.

Feng Jianping was leaning against the wall, his prison garb stained with blood, his appearance haggard and sickly. The once formidable General Zhenwei, known for his invincibility, was now barely recognizable. Time had taken its toll, and the once-great hero had fallen into disgrace, a sight that was deeply sorrowful.

His hair was neatly arranged, and his posture was dignified, indicating that he had long been waiting for something.

Yan Sikong pulled down his veil and knelt outside the cage. “Your Highness, Sikong… has arrived late.”

Feng Jianping’s face was calm and emotionless. “Are you the only one here to rescue me?”

“They went to rescue Feng Ye.”

“That’s good.”

Yan Sikong took out the keys and was about to open the cell door. “Your Highness, can you still move? I’ll…”

“Wait.” Feng Jianping raised his hand to stop him. “Let me say a few words.”

“Your Highness, we don’t have much time. We must leave immediately.”

“No hurry.” Feng Jianping adjusted his bloodstained collar. “Sikong, the Feng family can no longer do anything for you. You’ve endured so much humiliation and hardship. I’m sorry for that.”

Yan Sikong’s eyes grew warm. “I cannot save you all; it’s my inadequacy.”

“Neither Elder Yan nor I could overcome that eunuch. What can you do? Ultimately… it is the Emperor who wants my life, and there is no blame on others.”

Yan Sikong gritted his teeth. “Your Highness, you’ve been loyal and dedicated, achieving great feats for the Great Sheng. The short-sighted tyrant, envious and jealous of talents, will surely face retribution!”

Feng Jianping smiled bitterly. “When a ruler wants a minister dead, the minister must die. It’s just that I am unwilling to die wrongfully and cannot let go of the Dazheng defense I’ve upheld for so many years.”

“Once Your Highness leaves here and returns to Dazheng, you will surely rise again!” Yan Sikong urged. “Your Highness, we cannot delay any longer.” He hurried to unlock the door.

Feng Jianping, watching as the cell door was opened, calmly said, “I’m not leaving.”

Yan Sikong had already stepped into the cell when he froze at those words.

Feng Jianping smiled faintly. “Everyone must die eventually. I once vowed to fight and die on the battlefield, shedding my blood for the Great Sheng. Now, trapped in a cell, ending my life with grievance—such is the unpredictability of life.”

“Your Highness, what are you saying?” Yan Sikong moved to support him. “I’ll save you immediately…”

“Don’t come closer.” Feng Jianping suddenly drew something from behind him and pressed it against his chest.

Yan Sikong was shocked to see that it was a wooden hairpin with a sharpened tip.

—

Feng Jianping tilted his chin slightly. “Get out.”

“Your Highness…”

“Get out.” Feng Jianping’s voice was low but carried an undeniable authority.

Yan Sikong clenched his fists and had no choice but to step backward until he was outside the iron bars.

Feng Jianping looked at Yan Sikong calmly. “Feng Ye cannot die. He is the last bloodline of the Feng family, a prodigy who will become a formidable general. The dynasty’s foundation has rotted; he is the hope for the people. As for me… I will not step out of this iron cage.”

“Your Highness!” Yan Sikong growled in desperation. “Why do you do this?!” He trembled all over, his scalp tingling with fear, like ants crawling over his body.

“If I escape, it would confirm the accusation of rebellion against me. Feng Jianping may die, but I will not die in vain and disgrace.”

“Your Highness…” Yan Sikong knelt down, tears streaming. “Feng Ye is still waiting to reunite with you. He has lost his mother, his elder brother; do you want him to lose his father too?”

Tears glistened in Feng Jianping’s eyes, and his lips trembled. “I am covered in old wounds and have been tortured repeatedly. I am already a spent force. How can I escape as a cripple? This place is where I belong.”

“As long as you escape, the world may be in your son’s hands,” Yan Sikong urged. “Your Highness, you mustn’t give up!”

Feng Jianping shook his head. “You advised me not to return to the capital and also to start a rebellion during the Spring Hunt. I understand everything in my heart, but I, Feng Jianping, cannot become a traitor. If I die, Feng Ye will not be restrained.”

“You…” Yan Sikong was both angry and desperate. “I didn’t expect that the mighty Prince Jingyuan is just a name-seeking coward! You want to be the virtuous minister of the ages, leaving the most painful and difficult tasks to your only son. Can you leave with peace of mind?”

Feng Jianping smiled bitterly. “Don’t provoke me. Feng Ye is different from me; he is neither blindly loyal nor concerned with his reputation. He is young and has the opportunity to create another era of peace. He should not be burdened by me.”

“If you die here, how will Feng Ye survive?!” Yan Sikong cried out.

Feng Jianping took out a bundle of cloth from his chest and placed it beside him. “Sikong, you are resourceful and adaptable. In the future, you will stir up great changes. I know you stay here for revenge. I have written a blood oath. When the truth is revealed in the future, this is my explanation to the world. Please keep it.”

Yan Sikong pounded the iron bars with his fist and knelt down, choking up. “Your Highness, I beg you. Feng Ye is left with only you. Please come with me. Feng Ye is waiting for you. You two can be reunited soon.”

Feng Jianping’s eyes were now filled with a gray, faded look. “Sikong, I entrust Feng Ye to you.”

Footsteps approached quickly from the corridor, and Feng Ye’s hoarse voice came from afar: “Father?”

Yan Sikong’s body went cold. He watched as Feng Jianping closed his eyes, and in that moment of tears, the wooden hairpin was thrust into his chest.

“No—” Yan Sikong’s eyes widened in horror as he scrambled into the cell.

Bright red blood gushed from Feng Jianping’s chest like a suddenly blooming and withering flower, taking all vitality with it, the air seemed to freeze in suffocation.

Yan Sikong pressed several acupoints, but the blood continued to gush uncontrollably.

“Father!” Feng Ye, clutching his wound, staggered to the cell. What he saw was the dying Feng Jianping. He rushed into the iron cage, kneeling and crawling to his father, and cried out heart-wrenchingly: “Father—”

Yan Sikong stared at the blood on his hands and body, his vision filled with a murderous, terrifying red.

“My… wolf cub…” Feng Jianping reached out with trembling hands and touched Feng Ye’s face. “To see you… once more, I can close my eyes.”

“Father, why? Don’t die. I beg you. Father, we need to escape. We need to come back and avenge you. Father!” Feng Ye cried as tears streamed down his face, desperately trying to cover the wound, but the blood flowed wildly between his fingers.

“I cannot… leave… I was born pure… I die pure… Wolf cub… You must live… You must uphold the country… You must… save the common people…”

Feng Ye screamed, “I want Father to see it! I want Father to see me kill all the traitors. I want Father to see me clear the family’s name! Father, you must see it!”

“I… can see it…” Feng Jianping gazed at Feng Ye’s face, the only remaining attachment in the world. He kept looking, looking, until his pupils gradually lost focus.

“Father—” Feng Ye held Feng Jianping, sobbing uncontrollably.

She Zhun burst into the prison, urgently saying, “Young Master, now is not the time for mourning. You need to live to avenge the Prince. We must leave quickly; there’s no time left!”

Feng Ye was deaf to the words. In the past six months, he had fallen from the clouds to the abyss, from holding military power to losing everything. All the anger, hatred, pain, and despair he had endured erupted at this moment.

She Zhun signaled his subordinates, and several attempted to pull Feng Ye away. Feng Ye, who had been imprisoned for nearly half a year, was frail and weak, but he somehow had the strength to violently push them away.

Yan Sikong rushed forward, choking, “Feng Ye, the Prince is gone. We must leave. You must live…”

Before he could finish, Yan Sikong was forcefully pushed away. The impact sent him flying a few feet, slamming against the iron bars, causing his face to contort in pain.

Feng Ye slowly turned around, like a cornered beast, and said coldly, “What did you and my father… talk about?”

Yan Sikong felt his heart being twisted. He replied, trembling, “Your Highness… The Prince did not wish to escape with the label of rebellion. Feng Ye, what are you suspecting me of?”

“Suspect you?” Feng Ye’s face, smeared with tears and blood, was a twisted and messy sight. “How do you explain the matter of the military orders? How do you explain turning against Xie Zhongren to ask the dog Emperor for marriage? My father died right before your eyes. How do you explain that?”

Yan Sikong was struck as if by lightning, staring blankly at Feng Ye. Suddenly, he felt that this seemingly mad and ferocious person was a stranger.

Feng Ye had appeared… well… (End of this chapter)