The Blood Crown - Chapter 176

Yan Sikong was locked up in a prison within the camp. Although it was called a prison, it was actually just a military tent, but it was equipped with all the necessary restraints. His legs were shackled, and he curled up in a corner, with guards stationed both inside and outside the tent.

Yan Sikong tried to calm himself, reaching up to touch his neck. The tender skin there was already scraped raw, and even the slightest touch sent sharp pain through him. The memory of Feng Ye’s cold, menacing gaze as he tightened the noose around his neck still made him feel suffocated, even though the whip was no longer around his neck.

Feng Ye hated him. If he had held out even a sliver of hope before meeting Feng Ye, it was now completely gone. Feng Ye truly hated him.

And Feng Ye had every right to hate him. He had deceived Feng Ye many times. What if he had left with Feng Ye back then? How different might things be now? Unfortunately, life doesn’t have “what ifs,” and he was left with his sadness, regret, and helplessness.

As night fell, the camp was filled with the sounds of drums and music, likely celebrating the recovery of the divine steed with a grand feast.

Once Yan Sikong was thrown into the tent, no one cared for him. After half a day, he was starving. The soldiers guarding him seemed distracted, frequently glancing outside, probably craving the wine.

Despite his hunger, he remained where he was. Feng Ye’s military discipline was evident.

Yan Sikong watched the guard for a while and said mildly, “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

The young guard glanced at Yan Sikong. “Someone will come to relieve me soon.” He looked about sixteen or seventeen, with bright, innocent eyes, not knowing whose son he was, but so young to be on the battlefield.

“I’m an envoy of the Dasheng Dynasty and your Wolf King’s brother-in-law. Surely, you can’t let me starve.” He wasn’t quite hungry enough to beg for food, but he wanted to probe the situation.

The guard hesitated. “I… I’ll go ask.”

A clear voice came from outside the tent. “The Wolf King said this person is cunning, like a wild fox on two legs. Don’t talk to him. Didn’t you hear?”

Before the voice finished speaking, a tall man appeared in the tent. He stood upright, exuding an extraordinary presence, but his face was covered by a black mask, obscuring everything from his mouth upward.

The guards quickly knelt. “Greetings, General Que.”

The man called General Que carried a tea tray with wine and dishes. He waved his hand. “Stay outside.”

“Yes.”

Yan Sikong stared at General Que, trying to recall the voice. He was sure he had heard it somewhere before.

General Que crouched and placed the tea tray beside Yan Sikong’s feet. “Lord Yan, you must be hungry.”

Yan Sikong suddenly remembered. “It’s you! Three years ago in the capital…”

He was the masked man from that time, who had followed him, diverted the pursuers, and later left with Feng Ye. Who was this person who had followed Feng Ye until now?

“You have a good memory, Lord Yan.” General Que leaned in slightly, his sharp eyes hidden behind the mask, scrutinizing Yan Sikong’s face with intense focus, as if he intended to see every detail.

Yan Sikong felt uncomfortable under his gaze. “Who exactly are you? Why did you follow me back then, and why did you help me?”

“The Wolf King said Lord Yan is from Liaodong. Why don’t you have a local accent?”

“If you want me to answer your questions, you should first answer mine.”

General Que coldly replied, “Lord Yan is now a prisoner. There is no room for negotiation.”

“…Changed.”

General Que was silent for a moment. “Accents are easy to change; origins are harder to disguise.”

“Is General Que talking about me, or about yourself? Since you’re right in front of me, why won’t you reveal your name or your true face?” Yan Sikong deliberately provoked him. “Have you done something disgraceful?”

General Que sneered. “My name is ‘Wang,’ as in ‘to forget.’ As for my appearance, it is indeed ugly and fearsome, not fit to be shown.”

“Wang…” Yan Sikong had no impression of this name. Que was an uncommon surname, and he had never interacted with anyone of that surname. He pressed further, “Who exactly are you?”

“To you, I am probably someone you wish not to see. To me, however, you are someone I must see.”

Yan Sikong suddenly reached out to grab General Que’s mask. General Que was caught off guard and momentarily stunned. His reflexes were incredibly fast; he blocked the attack with one hand, but Yan Sikong’s other hand came up. They exchanged three quick moves within arm’s length. At one point, Yan Sikong’s fingers nearly grabbed the edge of the mask, but General Que seized his hand and twisted his arm behind his back, pinning him to the ground.

The mask was about to fall off, and General Que hurriedly adjusted it.

Due to the commotion, the tea tray had toppled, spilling wine and dishes everywhere.

General Que’s chest heaved with anger. He exerted pressure on Yan Sikong’s hand, causing him to grunt in pain.

General Que released him in frustration. “You really keep people on edge every moment!”

Yan Sikong rubbed his sore arm. “Since you insist on seeing me, what are you still hiding?”

“Once the Wolf King permits, I will let you know who I am,” General Que said coldly. “But you might not want to know by then.”

Yan Sikong narrowed his eyes. “Mystifying games don’t make one a hero.” He glanced at the tea tray. “Send some more food.”

General Que angrily retorted, “Starve then.” With that, he turned and left.

After Que Wang left, Yan Sikong kicked the tea tray away, letting out a low growl from his throat. In his current situation, he was already extremely agitated, and now that Que Wang was toying with him… He was determined to find out who this Que Wang really was and what grudge he held against him.

This place was near the northwest, where day and night had starkly different climates. Early autumn days were quite cool, but the nights were bitterly cold. Yan Sikong wrapped his clothes tighter around himself, hugging his arms as he curled up in a pile of straw, shivering from the cold. Hunger and fatigue assailed him, but his mind was too troubled to sleep, as he was anxious about what awaited him the next day.

He was eager to see Feng Ye soon. At least he needed to explain to Feng Ye that the invasion of the mountain and sea hunting grounds by the Feng family troops had nothing to do with him. But he also feared meeting Feng Ye, worried that Feng Ye might no longer believe a word he said. That cold, unfamiliar gaze was even more torturous than the cold night.

When he opened his eyes again, it was already dawn. Yan Sikong didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he had curled up all night, feeling sore all over and his head a bit dizzy. His stomach was growling from hunger, and he reached up to check his forehead, which felt a bit warm. Could it be a fever from the cold?

He propped himself up, and the young guard from yesterday was still on duty inside the tent. Seeing Yan Sikong awake, he brought over a bowl and placed it by Yan Sikong’s feet. “Eat this.”

Yan Sikong looked down at the bowl. It contained only a bowl of cold thin porridge, nothing else. He glanced at the overturned tea tray with the spilled meat and vegetables on the ground, which had not been cleaned up. He regretted not eating a proper meal yesterday.

Having experienced hunger as a child when he was abandoned on the streets, he knew how terrible it was. Whenever he was hungry, he would recall those unpleasant times, so no matter how busy he was, he never allowed himself to go hungry. Now, he was truly uncomfortable.

He picked up the bowl and drank the thin porridge, which was better than nothing.

After finishing, Yan Sikong looked at the young guard again. “Did you have some wine last night?” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry and painful, indicating that he might be ill.

The young guard glanced at him but didn’t speak, clearly intimidated by Que Wang’s scolding the night before and reluctant to talk to Yan Sikong.

Yan Sikong moved his sore limbs. “Why does Que Wang always wear a mask? Is it because he’s too ugly to show his face?”

The young guard remained silent.

“Of course, if even your Wolf King won’t come to see me, why would one of his subordinates dare?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” The young guard couldn’t help but scold. “The Wolf King will see you if he wants, and won’t if he doesn’t.”

“When will he see me?”

“… I don’t know.” The young guard turned his back, no longer looking at Yan Sikong.

Yan Sikong, exhausted, slumped back onto the straw, too tired to even open his eyes.

He didn’t know how long he waited, but someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes abruptly. It was night again, and in the dim light, he saw two guards. They dragged him from the ground and bound him to a torture rack.

Yan Sikong’s heart sank with cold dread. Was Feng Ye going to… torture him?

He didn’t struggle, nor did he have the strength to. He only felt a mix of cold and heat, incredibly uncomfortable.

Bound in a cross shape, with all the guards having withdrawn, including those stationed outside, he stared at the tent entrance, his heartbeat quickening.

After a while, a tall figure appeared as expected. Yan Sikong’s pupils contracted as he deeply looked at Feng Ye.

Feng Ye lowered the tent flap and walked in slowly.

The two stood less than ten feet apart, their gazes meeting in the air. In just one glance, memories were ignited. Once intimately close, now entangled with grievances. The person and the scene had changed, making it all the more sorrowful.

Yan Sikong’s heart ached sharply, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of sorrow. He desperately wanted to know what Feng Ye was thinking at this moment, whether he was also heartbroken like him.

Feng Ye’s face was cold, devoid of emotion. He looked Yan Sikong up and down.

Yan Sikong’s lips trembled. He didn’t want to appear weak and asked in a normal tone, “After being locked up for two days and getting only a bowl of thin porridge, do you intend to starve me?”

Feng Ye slightly raised his chin. “Que Wang kindly brought you food and wine, but you attacked him. You’ve always been this way—whoever is good to you, you take advantage of them.”

Yan Sikong squinted. “I just wanted to know who he was. Why the mystery? If there’s a grudge, he can come and take revenge.”

“Revenge?” Feng Ye’s face showed a hint of savagery. He said coldly, “What you owe him, you will never repay in this lifetime.”

“What do I owe him?”

“What you owe him will be discussed later.” Feng Ye slowly walked in front of Yan Sikong, his tall figure casting a shadow over him. He said icily, “What you owe me, I’m here to settle now.”

AN – I love this sour feeling. (End of Chapter)