The Blood Crown - Chapter 290

Yuan Nanyu had a very long dream. He stood in a simple courtyard where a tall ginkgo tree grew. By autumn, the tree shed a golden carpet of leaves.

A young couple nestled under the tree, chatting. Beside them, a boy and a girl practiced swordsmanship. In the ginkgo tree, there was a rudimentary treehouse where two children climbed up and down the trunk, nimble as monkeys. Their laughter echoed in the courtyard, lingering for a long time. Yet, Yuan Nanyu couldn’t make out anyone’s face.

He tried to get closer, even attempting to climb the tree for a better look. But just as he moved forward, the scene abruptly changed. He found himself standing atop a city wall. A dark mass of barbarian soldiers pressed closer, their bloodthirsty aura thick in the air, tightening his chest. When countless arrows rained down on him, he found himself completely immobile, frozen in terror with his eyes shut tight.

The anticipated pain of being pierced by a thousand arrows never came. When he opened his eyes, a long, seemingly endless road stretched before him. All around were prisoners in shackles, dressed in tattered clothes. They trudged forward listlessly under the watchful eyes of the soldiers.

Among them was a thin, frail boy whose back looked achingly familiar. Yuan Nanyu chased after him, grabbing the boy’s shoulder and turning him around.

The boy raised his head. His face was handsome, his eyes bright, but a ghastly, bloodied brand of the word “criminal” marred his left temple. The burnt skin was festering and oozing foul-smelling pus.

The familiarity of that face left Yuan Nanyu utterly at a loss.

In the next instant, a deep fissure split the ground. He lost his footing and plummeted downward. The massive ginkgo tree began shedding its golden leaves en masse. Each leaf transformed into a familiar image. Every memory from his life poured over him, a deluge of sights, sounds, joy, and pain, burying him in the abyss.

“Ah—” Yuan Nanyu let out a wretched scream, his body convulsing violently on the bed.

The physician and servants attending to him were startled.

“Quick, hold him down!” the physician ordered.

Everyone rushed forward to restrain Yuan Nanyu’s limbs, but his strength was immense. He flung a sturdy servant to the ground, his delirious screams frightening everyone present.

The physician carefully inserted silver needles into Yuan Nanyu’s acupuncture points, finally calming his agitation.

Hearing the commotion, Feng Ye pushed open the door. “How is the general?”

The physician wiped the sweat from his forehead. “He’s having a nightmare. He should be waking up soon.”

Indeed, Yuan Nanyu gradually stopped screaming and thrashing. His eyelids fluttered, as if on the verge of waking.

The physician quickly withdrew the silver needles.

“Leave us,” Feng Ye commanded, sitting at Yuan Nanyu’s bedside and frowning down at him.

Not long after, Yuan Nanyu slowly opened his eyes. His gaze shifted from dazed to clear, then to a deep, tormented pain before finally becoming utterly hollow.

“You’re awake. It’s just a minor injury. You should…” Feng Ye began.

Yuan Nanyu turned his head slightly, staring blankly at Feng Ye. Suddenly, without warning, tears spilled from his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Feng Ye asked, perplexed. He opened his mouth to call for the physician, but Yuan Nanyu grabbed his wrist with a death grip, so strong it seemed like his bones might break.

“I remember now,” Yuan Nanyu said, his voice filled with agony as he gazed at Feng Ye. “I remember everything.”

Feng Ye stared at him in shock. “What…what did you say?”

Tears streamed down Yuan Nanyu’s face as his voice trembled. “I remember everything… He’s…he’s my Er’ge(2nd brother)…”

Everything had come back to him. He remembered that he was the youngest son of the Yuan family. He remembered his Er’ge, picked up from the streets by their father when he was nine. He remembered how they grew up together, their father’s wrongful execution, and how he had taken the blame and gone into exile for his brother.

From past to present, every detail returned to him.

Feng Ye looked as though he’d been struck by lightning, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

Yuan Nanyu struggled to sit up, clutching Feng Ye’s collar as he cried out, “He’s my Er’ge. He’s Yan Sikong! He’s Yan Sikong!”

Feng Ye’s face turned deathly pale. It felt as if his heart had been hollowed out, the pain unbearable. Overwhelming regret surged like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him.

Yan Sikong, Yan Sikong, Yan Sikong.

From the beginning, it had always been him—his Sikong, his Kong’er.

Deep down, Feng Ye had never truly been unaware. He had always suspected. Or rather, he had never entirely believed Yuan Shaoxu’s words.

The boy he had grown up with, his childhood friend with his brilliance, his temperament, his smile, and his demeanor, bore no resemblance to the cunning and ruthless Yan Sikong he had come to know. No, they were far more like the Yan Sikong of his youth.

But he hadn’t wanted to believe it. Consumed by resentment, he refused to acknowledge that the scheming, manipulative, and treacherous Yan Sikong—the one who had betrayed, deceived, and abandoned him—could be the same person as his childhood companion. It was as if Yan Sikong couldn’t be “Yan Sikong” in order to justify his pain.

Yet, that person was indeed Yan Sikong. His eyes, ears, and even his mind had been deceiving him. Only his heart remained unconvinced. The one he loved, the one he adored, the one he longed for—there was only one such person in the world, no matter what name he bore.

Yuan Nanyu clutched his head in agony. “Big Brother lied to us… Why did he do this? He’s Yan Sikong. He’s Yan Sikong! I willingly took the blame for him. He endured twenty years of humiliation to avenge our father. And I… I misunderstood him, didn’t trust him. Why? Why didn’t I remember sooner?”

Feng Ye felt as if his heart were being torn apart.

What had he done?

He had forced Yan Sikong to deny his own name, to deny everything about himself. He had humiliated him, cursed him, and tormented him, using his resentment as an excuse to vent his anger. He believed he was taking revenge on a cold, calculating liar.

The real liar was Yuan Shaoxu. He had turned the truth upside down, swapped the identities of the two brothers. Even the accusation of Yan Sikong colluding with the enemy, in hindsight, seemed suspicious. Just as Yan Sikong had said, it must have been Yuan Shaoxu’s doing.

Feng Ye bent over in pain, his face drained of all color.

What had he done?

Yan Sikong had not harmed the Feng family. On the contrary, he had risked his life to break them out of prison. He had never lied about his identity, nor had he lied about Wanyang and the child. Even the accusation of collusion with the enemy had been part of Chen Mu’s scheme to sow discord.

Yan Sikong had never betrayed him. On the contrary, he had always been helping him.

But what had he done? He had doubted him again and again, humiliated him, used him, hurt him—he had even taken other wives and concubines.

Yan Sikong had never betrayed their love. It was he who had betrayed it.

It was him.

Feng Ye felt his heart being torn to pieces. He staggered to his feet, his legs nearly giving out beneath him, and almost collapsed. Clutching the bed curtains tightly, he muttered incoherently, “Kong… my Kong’er… I… I’ll kill Yuan Shaoxu, I’ll…”

Yuan Nanyu, with tears in his eyes, glared at Feng Ye’s panicked figure and choked out, “Shouldn’t the one the Wolf King blames most be yourself?”

Feng Ye’s body swayed.

Yuan Nanyu gritted his teeth. “Why couldn’t you recognize the person who was by your side day and night? Why did you have no trust in the one you claimed to love with all your heart?”

His words pierced Feng Ye like a thousand swords, leaving him utterly shattered.

Yuan Nanyu wept. “I’m also a fool. Er’ge gave his all for me, but I kept doubting him, misunderstanding him, and even left him alone in the enemy camp. He became thorny and guarded to avenge our father, and yet I blamed him for not being upright and forthright…”

Feng Ye clenched his jaw and, with tears in his eyes, said, “I’ll go save him. No matter what it costs, I’ll save him.”

All he wanted now was to hold his Kong’er tightly, to tell him how much regret and guilt he felt. He would bring him back, give him everything he now had, and start over again.

Yuan Nanyu said fiercely, “Wolf King, let me lead the vanguard. I will storm the Chu army camp, rescue my Er’ge, and personally kill Chen Mu!”

Feng Ye wiped his face, his gaze a mixture of deep pain and murderous rage, as chilling as a wolf’s. “I can’t wait to see if he has any way of escaping on his own. We’ll mobilize the army now and launch a night raid. I’ll leave Chen Mu with nothing!”

Yuan Nanyu got out of bed, donned his armor, and strapped on his sword, exuding a menacing and murderous aura.

It was late at night, the hour when most were sound asleep. Though rushed, they outnumbered Chen Mu’s forces and had every reason to strike boldly.

The two strode out with long strides, but just then, a guard came running into the residence at full speed, disregarding the hour and shouting loudly, “Wolf King, we have good news! We have good news—”

Feng Ye quickly stepped forward. “What good news? Speak quickly!”

Could it be that Yan Sikong had escaped?

“The Chu army—their provisions have been burned!” The guard was so excited that he could barely speak clearly.

Feng Ye and Yuan Nanyu exchanged a glance. Both immediately thought of Yan Sikong.

“Que Wang, take 30,000 soldiers as the vanguard and head for the Chu army camp immediately. I will lead the main force and follow.”

“Yes!” Yuan Nanyu swiftly departed.

“Someone, bring me my armor!” Feng Ye shouted in the courtyard.

Servants rushed over with his heavy armor, helping the Wolf King don his gear and helmet.

Feng Ye clenched his fists, his gaze resolute and blazing like a roaring fire.

Kong’er, wait for me. I’m coming to save you. The wrongs I’ve done, the sins I’ve committed—I will do everything to atone for them. I’ll treat you well. For the rest of our lives, we’ll never be apart again.