The Blood Crown - Chapter 297

Yuan Nanyu strode quickly through the corridor, heading toward the inner courtyard of the prince’s residence. The steward followed closely behind, hesitating several times to stop Yuan Nanyu but not daring to. He said uneasily, “General Que, General Que, please wait. The Wolf King said—”

“Why didn’t the Wolf King attend the morning court today?” Yuan Nanyu asked without looking sideways, his pace unwavering.

“The Wolf King felt unwell today, so he didn’t attend court and doesn’t wish to see anyone.”

“I have urgent military intelligence to report.” Yuan Nanyu, annoyed by the steward’s obstruction, gripped the hilt of his sword and cast him a cold glare.

The steward swallowed hard and reluctantly stepped back a few paces.

Yuan Nanyu continued forward, his expression cold. “I know the Wolf King doesn’t want to see me, but the situation is critical, and I must report to him in person.” Reaching Feng Ye’s chambers, he paused briefly before striding in, pushing the door open without hesitation.

“Ah, General!” The steward, unable to stop him, could only stand outside, not daring to enter.

“Wolf King!” Yuan Nanyu entered directly, greeted by a strong smell of alcohol mixed with the stifling air, almost forcing him back out. Frowning, he pressed forward toward the bedroom. There, on the bed, lay a tall figure, hair splayed across the headboard. Wine jars lay shattered on the floor, even the bed curtains partially torn down—an utter mess.

Feng Hun crouched nearby, silently watching the man on the bed. When it saw Yuan Nanyu, it let out a soft “woof.”

Yuan Nanyu took a deep breath, slowed his pace, and walked closer.

Feng Ye’s hair was disheveled, his clothes in disarray, and the bedding crumpled into a pile of rags, soaked in spilled wine. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed, and his lips moved faintly, as though he were murmuring something even in his restless sleep. In the dim light, dark circles under his eyes, slightly sunken cheeks, and a face covered with stubble gave him a haggard appearance.

As Yuan Nanyu stood still, Feng Ye’s eyes suddenly snapped open. One hand darted out from under the quilt, and in an instant, a gleaming sword was at Yuan Nanyu’s throat.

Yuan Nanyu didn’t flinch or dodge, silently meeting Feng Ye’s gaze.

Feng Ye squinted groggily, straining to recognize the face before him. His gaze flickered with confusion, alarm, and a mix of emotions too complex to name. Finally, his hand dropped, and the sword clattered to the ground.

Yuan Nanyu’s heart ached. In a low voice, he said, “Feng Ye, do you dare to look at what you’ve become?”

“What are you doing here?” Feng Ye closed his eyes again, his voice hoarse.

“I am your vanguard general, reporting military intelligence.”

“If it’s not news of him… then there’s no need.” Feng Ye struggled to sit up. The body that was once strong and agile had grown alarmingly thin, his long arms trembling from the effort. Such a simple movement seemed to drain most of his strength. No one could believe this was the same Wolf King who had once been so spirited and commanding.

Yuan Nanyu pressed his lips together, the pain in his eyes evident. “I’ve never given up searching for him. But after so long, with no trace, maybe—”

“No maybe,” Feng Ye interrupted. His face was ashen, his eyes lifeless, and his lips pale. “…He must be found.”

Yuan Nanyu clenched his fists. “The mighty Wolf King can’t even look me in the eye anymore?”

Feng Ye avoided his gaze, murmuring, “You look nothing like him… not at all.”

“If I don’t look like him, why won’t you look at me? Why won’t you see me!”

“Because I’m afraid,” Feng Ye whispered, his voice barely audible. “You’re right. I’m afraid.” Covering his face with one hand, his trembling lips betrayed the agony and despair he couldn’t express.

How ironic. The one he missed day and night, the one who drove him nearly mad, remained elusive despite his every effort. Yet this face, bearing an eight-part resemblance, appeared before him with ease. He couldn’t bear to see it, wouldn’t dare to. That face only reminded him repeatedly that he was living in a world without Yan Sikong.

For six months, every day, every night, every hour, he’d been tormented by unrelenting regret and longing. He yearned for any news of Yan Sikong. Even the smallest clue proving he was alive would be enough to sustain him through the endless, agonizing nights.

But there was nothing—absolutely nothing. Yan Sikong had vanished. Even if he hadn’t perished in that fire, he had disappeared from Feng Ye’s life. To everyone else, Feng Ye insisted firmly that Yan Sikong was alive—he had to be, as if saying it enough times might make it true. But day by day, his fear grew stronger, and he didn’t know how much longer he could endure.

He would go anywhere to find Yan Sikong—hell itself, or through fire and sword—nothing could stop him. But where, where was his Yan Sikong?

“Feng Ye, you are the regent of Da Sheng. No matter how heartbroken and grieving you are, you cannot hide here drowning in alcohol,” Yuan Nanyu said, his voice trembling with pain. “You’ve missed morning court for two days. Do you realize—”

“The Lantern Festival,” Feng Ye muttered softly.

“…What?”

“Last night was the Lantern Festival. The capital must have been very lively,” Feng Ye’s body trembled slightly, and a sharp pain in his chest hit him again. The memories of those passionate times kept resurfacing before his eyes, each one like a knife stabbing at his heart. He whispered, “I made a vow back then, a vow for us… for a lifetime… but now, where is he? My Kong’er, where are you?”

Yuan Nanyu’s eyes burned, and he had to bite his lip to keep from shedding tears.

Feng Ye fumbled on the bed, finding an unfinished bottle of wine at the head of the bed. He lifted it to drink.

Yuan Nanyu rushed forward, snatched the bottle from his hand, and smashed it hard to the ground, growling, “Enough! Even if Er’ge comes back now, he wouldn’t want to see you like this!”

Feng Ye forced a smile that was sadder than tears, “As long as he can come back, I’ll let him see whatever he wants to see… any… any form.”

“Er’ge wouldn’t want you to fall into such despair. He helped you take the capital, helped you clear out enemies. He wanted you to rule the country well and save the nation!”

“Rule the country well?” Feng Ye said lightly, “They oppose me at every turn, how can I govern the country?”

“In the position, bear the responsibility,” Yuan Nanyu pressed down on Feng Ye’s shoulder, shaking him roughly. “You cannot continue like this. I just received news that the Jin army is attacking Liaodong!”

Feng Ye blinked, looking confused for a moment. “Liaodong…”

“General Zhao led an army back to the capital, but he passed away in camp. Now Liaodong’s defenses are weak. Zuo Letai will take advantage of the situation sooner or later. In the past, he would have waited for the Huang River to freeze, but this year he couldn’t wait. The Jin army has already crossed the river!” Yuan Nanyu’s tone grew more intense. “Looking across the land, the only one who can save Liaodong is you.”

Feng Ye finally snapped back to his senses. He shook his head vigorously and then wiped his face. “How many troops are there in Liaodong now?”

“Less than forty thousand, most are stationed in Guangning.”

“Guangning,” Feng Ye murmured, the two distant yet unforgettable words painfully stabbing at his heart. He and Yan Sikong’s bond had begun in Guangning, but Yan Sikong’s life had begun to fall apart there as well. Twenty years ago, Yuan Mao led the people of Guangning to resist Zuo Letai’s invasion with an army of one hundred thousand. It was a battle that would be forever recorded in history, a battle fought with fewer troops against overwhelming odds. Now, twenty years later, the smoke of war was rising again at Guangning’s gates.

Today, Guangning had been reinforced and rebuilt over the years into a sturdy fortress, but Zuo Letai was pressing forward with an even stronger force than before. Without Zhao Fuyi, and with Liaodong weakened after years of torment, how long could they hold out?

Yuan Nanyu cupped his hands and bowed. “I implore the Wolf King to send troops to save Liaodong. It’s my homeland, and I’m willing to lead the army myself!”

Feng Ye was silent for a moment. “Chen Li and the various lords are eyeing the capital. If we divide our troops to save Liaodong now, I fear…”

“I only need… twenty thousand troops.”

“Twenty thousand soldiers? What use would they be? Are you sending them to die?” Feng Ye furrowed his brows deeply, clearly hesitant.

“Are we just going to let Liaodong fend for itself?” Yuan Nanyu raised his voice. “Are we just going to hand over the northern gates to the barbarians?”

“Loss of lips means loss of teeth. Do you think I don’t know?” Feng Ye pressed his aching temples. “Give me a moment to think.”

“Wolf King…”

“Has Chen Li made any moves?”

Hearing “Chen Li”, Yuan Nanyu’s expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He said solemnly, “He’s sent envoys to persuade the vassal kings, but his forces are still insufficient to challenge ours.”

“If I send troops to Liaodong, he won’t miss the opportunity.” Feng Ye narrowed his eyes. “With enemies inside and outside, fighting on two fronts would be detrimental to our army.”

Yuan Nanyu’s face showed difficulty, unsure of how to respond.

Feng Ye’s concerns were understandable, but Liaodong was his homeland, and it was the defense of the northern frontier of the Central Plains. Whether for personal or national reasons, Liaodong could not fall into the hands of foreign invaders.

“Send for Zhu Lanting to see me,” Feng Ye said. “He may have a way to convince the old officials to transfer troops from the provinces.”

“Yes.” Yuan Nanyu hesitated as he looked at Feng Ye.

Feng Ye said calmly, “Go.”

“Wolf King, you can’t meet people like this.”

Feng Ye stared blankly ahead for a long time, then softly replied, “Que Wang, you must continue searching for him, go further, turn the world upside down if necessary, I won’t care.”