The Blood Crown - Chapter 291

When Yuan Nanyu led the vanguard troops and galloped toward the Chu army camp, he could see from a distance that the camp was ablaze, with firelight illuminating the sky. The enemy soldiers were running around like headless flies, trying to extinguish the flames.

 

To guard against a possible trap, Yuan Nanyu sent a small elite unit ahead to scout, though the scene was hardly convincing as a ruse.

 

After confirming that the Chu army’s granary was indeed on fire, he gave the command, leading his army to charge into the enemy camp. All the defeats, humiliation, and torment he had suffered turned into a blazing fire of vengeance, burning even brighter than the flames in the distance.

 

While Yuan Nanyu charged forward, cutting down Chu soldiers, he shouted, “Find Grand Tutor Yan! Capture Chen Mu alive! A thousand gold pieces and the title of Marquis of Ten Thousand Households as a reward!”

 

“The general has decreed: find Grand Tutor Yan, capture Chen Mu alive, and be rewarded with a thousand gold pieces and the title of Marquis of Ten Thousand Households!”

 

“A reward of gold and titles! A reward of gold and titles! A reward of gold and titles!”

 

The soldiers were fired up, their morale soaring. A lifetime of glory and wealth was within reach—if not now, then when would they fight for it?

 

The Feng army charged into the Chu army camp like wolves and tigers, slashing everyone in sight and burning tents as they searched frantically for Yan Sikong and the Chu king.

 

With their supplies destroyed, the Chu army’s morale had already crumbled. Now faced with the ferocious Feng troops, who were bloodthirsty and red-eyed, the Chu soldiers had no will to fight and scattered in every direction.

 

“Has anyone found Grand Tutor Yan?” Yuan Nanyu asked urgently as he searched.

 

A scout reported, “General, Chen Mu has fled!”

 

“Chase him!” Yuan Nanyu thought to himself. If Chen Mu had fled, he must have taken Yan Sikong with him. He gave the order and spurred his horse to lead the pursuit. From a distance, he could see Chen Mu retreating with his troops, his eyes gleaming with icy resolve and deep hatred.

 

The Feng army pursued the Chu forces for several miles, killing or capturing countless enemies. As they closed the distance, Yuan Nanyu scanned the fleeing soldiers but did not see Yan Sikong’s familiar figure. However, he did spot the enemy commander. He shouted, “Bow!”

 

A subordinate immediately handed him a bow and arrow. Yuan Nanyu gripped his bow tightly, standing tall in the saddle of his galloping horse. His stance was steady as he drew the bowstring to a full arc and aimed at the fleeing commander amid the chaos.

 

With a sharp “whoosh,” the arrow streaked across the pale blue dawn sky and struck Chen Mu’s shoulder.

 

Chen Mu let out a grunt of pain, his body lurching uncontrollably to one side. He slipped from the saddle and was on the verge of being trampled under the hooves of the fleeing horses. At the critical moment, he grabbed the reins, quickly wrapping them around his arm. At the same time, he hooked his foot into the saddle strap, narrowly avoiding death as his shoulder grazed the dusty ground.

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

Gritting his teeth, Chen Mu pulled himself back onto his horse with a wrenching twist of his body. He turned his head, his gaze piercing through the chaos to lock onto the general clad in armor—the imposing Yuan Nanyu.

 

Yuan Nanyu met Chen Mu’s gaze.

 

The two stared at each other across the battlefield, smoke and fire swirling around them.

 

At that moment, the sound of battle cries erupted from the southeast. A cavalry force appeared before them, banners bearing the large character “Ning.”

 

“This is bad—it’s Prince Ning’s reinforcements!”

 

Seeing the reinforcements, Yuan Nanyu was both anxious and furious. He was so close to catching Chen Mu. Was he really going to let him escape? And where was Yan Sikong? Where was his Er’ge?

 

Prince Ning’s troops advanced aggressively, charging straight at Yuan Nanyu’s forces. The two sides clashed, swords and spears colliding. The shouts of battle, cries of pain, and neighs of horses filled the air, rising to the heavens. When the first rays of sunlight illuminated the earth, blood became the most vivid color on the battlefield.

 

Yuan Nanyu saw that his forces were outnumbered. They had mobilized hastily, and the main army was still lagging behind. Despite his eagerness for victory, he dared not act recklessly. Reluctantly, he ordered a retreat, intending to regroup with the main force before continuing the pursuit.

 

Prince Ning’s army pursued them for a while before withdrawing, clearly uninterested in a prolonged fight.

 

When Yuan Nanyu returned to the Chu camp, Feng Ye had just arrived with reinforcements, accompanied by Feng Hun. Upon seeing Yuan Nanyu, Feng Ye asked urgently, “Where is Yan Sikong?”

 

Yuan Nanyu replied bitterly, “We didn’t find him in the camp. I pursued Chen Mu, but Prince Ning’s reinforcements arrived, and we were outnumbered. We had to retreat.”

 

“He must have been taken by Chen Mu!” Feng Ye declared. “Qian Cunxi, take 40,000 troops and sweep through Prince Ning’s camp. Wang Shen, lead 30,000 troops to attack the eastern loyalist forces. Quewang, follow me in pursuing Chen Mu!”

 

The commanders responded in unison, “Yes!”

 

Just as the armies were preparing to move, a messenger rode up urgently. “Wolf King! Wolf King! There’s news of Grand Tutor Yan!”

 

Feng Ye’s eyes widened. “Where is he?!”

 

A man with a soot-covered face stumbled forward and knelt before Feng Ye. “This humble servant, Qu Yan, greets the Wolf King and General Que.”

 

Yuan Nanyu barely recognized the soot-streaked face as one of their spies planted in the Chu army. He asked anxiously, “Where is Grand Tutor Yan? Did you set the fire?”

 

Qu Yan prostrated himself on the ground, wailing, “It was Grand Tutor Yan who set the fire! Grand Tutor Yan, he… he…”

 

Feng Ye’s eyes filled with rage, his heart gripped by an invisible hand. He roared, “What happened to him?”

 

“He… he perished in the flames with the granary.”

 

Feng Ye and Yuan Nanyu froze.

 

The words sounded as if they had come from another world, not something of this earth.

 

Yan Sikong, perished in the flames?

 

What did that mean?

 

Yuan Nanyu was the first to recover, his anger and disbelief surging. “You’re lying!”

 

“This humble servant… this humble servant wouldn’t dare…” Qu Yan trembled as he spoke. “Grand Tutor Yan… he walked into the burning granary himself…”

 

Feng Ye lashed Qu Yan across the face with his whip, glaring down at him with eyes filled with murderous intent. “You’re lying.”

 

This man was a spy. How could his words be trusted?

 

He refused to believe it. He would not believe it.

 

Feng Ye spurred his horse and charged into the devastated Chu camp, heading straight for the granary, with Feng Hun close behind.

 

“Wolf King!”

 

The attendant had no choice but to follow Feng Ye into the ruins.

 

Yuan Nanyu dismounted, grabbed Qu Yan from the ground, and roared, “You’re talking nonsense! Why would he walk into a burning granary?”

 

Qu Yan, his mouth bloodied from the lash, stammered, “I-I tried to take Master Yan away, but he… he wouldn’t go. He said… he was afraid the fire wouldn’t burn everything completely, and then he… he just walked in.”

 

Yuan Nanyu felt his vision blur, his entire body drained of strength. He let go of Qu Yan in despair, muttering, “Impossible. Er’ge is so clever. He… he said he had a plan, a way out. It’s not possible…”

 

The bloodied iron hooves trampled over charred earth, crimson blood, and broken corpses, passing through these hellish scenes to bring Feng Ye to the scorched and disfigured granary.

 

Feng Ye stood there in a daze, staring at the wreckage.

 

A desolate place like this—how could his Kong’er possibly be here?

 

He refused to believe it. Yan Sikong was the most cunning person alive. He must have been captured by Chen Mu or used the chaos to escape.

 

Suppressing his immense fear, Feng Ye ordered, “Someone, come here.” His voice trembled uncontrollably.

 

“Wolf King…”

 

“Extinguish the fire. Dig this place up, turn it inside out!”

 

“Yes!”

 

The soldiers sprang into action, fetching water and spreading sand to extinguish the remaining flames before digging through the ruins. Feng Hun leapt onto the debris, sniffing around incessantly.

 

Yuan Nanyu, despondent, walked over to Feng Ye. His gaze was vacant, his face smeared with blood, indistinguishable whether it was sweat or tears.

 

Before he could speak, Feng Ye said firmly, “He won’t die. He’s waiting for me to save him.”

 

His Kong’er wouldn’t do this to him. They had defeated all their enemies, with no one left to stop them. They were still young and could start over.

 

He wouldn’t die.

 

Soon, the soldiers unearthed the first corpse. Feng Ye dismounted and almost collapsed to the ground. He shoved away those trying to steady him and ran over. Though the body was burnt beyond recognition, its corpulent build made it clear it wasn’t Yan Sikong.

 

Clenching his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, Feng Ye roared, “Keep digging!”

 

Yuan Nanyu’s voice trembled as he murmured, “Er’ge said if I ever regained my memories, I should write down all that we’d shared. He said… he wouldn’t enter the enemy camp without a plan. Did he… plan this all along…”

 

“Shut up,” Feng Ye said coldly.

 

“Qu Yan said he walked into the fire himself, refused to escape, and walked in on his own—”

 

“Shut up!” Feng Ye bellowed, his eyes nearly bursting with blood.

 

Just then, another corpse was unearthed. Feng Ye rushed over, but its short stature and dissimilar build proved it wasn’t Yan Sikong either. His heart plummeted from the skies, ready to shatter completely, only to be caught mid-fall.

 

Clinging to a thread of hope, Feng Ye clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh.

 

Yan Sikong, where are you? You can’t be here. You wouldn’t do this to me.

 

The soldiers dug from dawn to noon, uncovering seven or eight charred corpses. Some were unrecognizable, but their sizes were wrong; others still had partial features visible, but none were Yan Sikong.

 

Finally, they unearthed the last corpse amidst the wreckage, burned beyond recognition.

 

Feng Hun suddenly became agitated, growling at the body.

 

Feng Ye’s mind went blank, his legs weak, barely able to support him. Step by step, he forced himself forward, each stride feeling like crossing mountains of blades and seas of fire.

 

At last, he stood before the corpse.

 

The body was entirely blackened, its clothing indistinguishable. It was tall and slender, bearing a striking resemblance to Yan Sikong…

 

Feng Hun barked furiously at the corpse, even climbing onto it, using his nose to nudge the claw-like curled hand.

 

Feng Ye felt as though a specter of terror was clawing its way up his spine, fully invading his being. He looked at Feng Hun and nearly begged, “Hun’er, it’s not Yan Sikong. Tell me… it’s not Yan Sikong.”

 

Feng Hun opened his jaws and bit into the corpse’s hand, tearing at it with all his strength, ripping flesh and bone.

 

Even the battle-hardened soldiers trembled at the ghastly sight.

 

Feng Hun finally gnawed through the scorched bone, extracting a small blackened object from the hand. Spitting out the flesh and bone, the object naturally unfurled—a piece of vibrant red fabric, with only a small palm-sized section intact.

 

Feng Ye stared blankly at the cloth, suddenly recognizing a familiar embroidered pattern.

 

His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

 

The surrounding soldiers followed suit, kneeling, while Yuan Nanyu wept uncontrollably, overcome with grief.

 

The entire sky collapsed in front of Feng Ye.

 

His trembling hands reached out to grab the small fragment of red fabric. The agony cut into his soul like blades, his tears streaming uncontrollably.

 

It was Su brocade embroidered with a golden silkworm-thread wolf totem, the only one of its kind in the world. He had once draped it over Yan Sikong’s head… as a wedding veil.

 

Yan Sikong had kept it with him all this time, always kept it with him…

 

Feng Ye stared at the unrecognizable corpse, letting out a mournful, heart-wrenching wail. The sound, filled with anguish and despair, pierced through the heavens and shook the earth.

 

His heart felt like it was being torn apart, his body and soul ravaged by agony. He coughed up blood violently.

 

“Wolf King—!”

 

The mighty Wolf King, who had once commanded the world, now clung to that small piece of tattered fabric, before collapsing unconscious to the ground.