The Blood Crown - Chapter 306

Feng Ye followed the two brothers back to the Yuan residence, where the only two servants hurriedly began preparing dinner.

Standing under the ginkgo tree that had shed all its leaves, Feng Ye’s gaze lingered on the dilapidated little wooden house for a long time.

The two brothers stood by his side, silently.

“Back then, we often climbed up and down here,” Feng Ye said softly. “You climbed faster than me, but I refused to accept it.” He turned his head to look at Yan Sikong. “After returning to Datong, I spent my days climbing trees, thinking that one day I would surpass you. But instead, I received the news of your exile.”

Yan Sikong felt a heavy weight in his chest, unsure if it was because Feng Ye brought up the past or because he mentioned the exile.

Yuan Nanyu also sighed softly.

“Back then… who was the person I saw in your room?” Feng Ye’s gaze shifted between the two brothers.

Now he could easily distinguish Yan Sikong and Yuan Nanyu, but as an eight-year-old, he had been confused.

Yuan Nanyu was about to speak, but Yan Sikong interrupted him, saying, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice was as indifferent as ever.

Feng Ye’s expression darkened. He said, “Que Wang, leave us.”

Yuan Nanyu frowned. “Wolf King—”

“Leave us,” Feng Ye commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

Yan Sikong nodded at Yuan Nanyu.

Reluctantly, Yuan Nanyu bowed and turned to leave.

Feng Ye walked up to Yan Sikong, looking at his pale face. He asked gently, “Are you cold?” At the same time, he reached out as if to touch his cheek.

“I’m not cold,” Yan Sikong replied, stepping back.

Feng Ye’s hand froze in midair before falling limply to his side.

“But standing here for too long naturally makes one cold. I have no desire to discuss matters in the snow with the Wolf King. Please, go inside.” Yan Sikong turned and headed toward the house.

“Do you hate me so much?” Feng Ye’s voice, tinged with cold desolation, floated through the wind.

Yan Sikong kept walking.

Feng Ye suddenly barked, “Stop!”

Yan Sikong paused mid-step.

Feng Ye strode over and stopped behind Yan Sikong. “I, Feng Ye, have never begged anyone in my life. But I’m lowering myself to beg you…” His bloodshot eyes stared at Yan Sikong’s back. “What do you want? What do you need me to do? How can I make you look at me again?!”

Yan Sikong didn’t turn around. His tone was detached. “I’ve said everything that needed to be said. Doesn’t the Wolf King find this repetitive back-and-forth tiresome?”

Grinding his teeth, Feng Ye suddenly stepped forward and embraced Yan Sikong tightly from behind, holding him as if his life depended on it.

Yan Sikong frowned but didn’t struggle; he couldn’t be bothered to waste the effort.

Feng Ye pressed his high-bridged nose against Yan Sikong’s cheek, inhaling the cold air mixed with the scent of the person he had yearned for deeply. This was the source of his obsession, his greatest desire.

How could someone drive him to such madness? He once thought the youthful stirrings of his heart would fade with time, but instead, they only burned hotter, as if a lifetime wouldn’t suffice to exhaust them.

He had thought of letting go. He didn’t want to “pester endlessly, making a fool of himself,” but he couldn’t. As long as this person wasn’t in his arms, he would never find peace, never feel whole.

Even if he had everything else, without Yan Sikong, it was all meaningless.

Feng Ye whispered into Yan Sikong’s ear, “Do you want to hear something ‘interesting’? Let me tell you.”

Yan Sikong’s body tensed.

“During the two hundred days you were missing, I lived in hell every single day. Clinging to the faint hope that you were still alive, I wished I could search every corner of the earth for you. I thought, no matter where you were, even if you were dead, I’d chase you to the underworld to find you.” Feng Ye’s voice cracked. “Kong’er, do you know how much I love you? It’s been ten years. We’ve been entangled for ten years, yet every day, you’re still in my heart, never leaving for a moment. How can you ask me to let go?”

Yan Sikong took a sharp breath and replied expressionlessly, “And how does the Wolf King treat the one in his heart? Surely, you don’t expect me to believe you?”

Feng Ye said remorsefully, “I’ve made so many mistakes. Whatever punishment you deem fit, I’ll accept. But you can’t leave me. Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Let me treat you well.”

“…And if I refuse?”

Feng Ye fell silent.

“I’ve learned many painful lessons from you, enough to caution me for a lifetime. Your sweet words are not new, nor is your promise to treat me well. But in the end…” Yan Sikong let out a mocking laugh

How could Yan Sikong not have been wholly devoted to Feng Ye, heart and soul, for a lifetime? He had been in the past, he was now, and he always would be.

But so what? Everything Feng Ye had done to him had worn away all his affection. Besides, matters of love were nothing but burdens—he wanted no part of it anymore.

Yan Sikong said softly, “Does the Wolf King still remember what I once said to you?”

“…”

“I said, ‘If one day you regret treating me this way, don’t ever tell me.’”

Feng Ye’s heart clenched as if pierced by a knife.

“You said you don’t regret it.” Yan Sikong’s voice was as calm as his expression. “But I do. I regret meeting you, regretted pledging myself to you. Without you, I would have made far fewer foolish mistakes. That’s why I can’t—”

“I forbid you to regret!” Feng Ye trembled. “I forbid it. I won’t allow you to erase our past like this.”

“It wasn’t me who erased our past—it was you,” Yan Sikong said softly. “And it wasn’t just our past you wanted to erase; you wanted to erase me as well.”

Feng Ye felt a suffocating pain. Every word Yan Sikong uttered was a blade stabbing into his heart.

“Wolf King, let go.” Yan Sikong’s words carried a double meaning. “The Yan Sikong you want is already dead.”

“…Never.” Feng Ye gritted his teeth. “I just want to treat you well. Don’t force me.”

Yan Sikong narrowed his eyes.

Feng Ye turned Yan Sikong around, staring into his eyes with bloodshot ones. His voice was bitter as he said, word by word, “I am the Wolf King. Whatever I desire, I will have. You cannot defy me.”

Yan Sikong replied coldly, “The Wolf King wishes to force me to submit again? What arrogance.”

“You’re the one forcing me!” Feng Ye choked back tears. “I want your eyes to look only at me. I want your body and soul to belong only to me. I want you to stay by my side forever! Is the Wolf King now the only way to achieve this?!”

Yan Sikong glared at him, his chest heaving. From the moment he had appeared, he had prepared for everything. But even so, he couldn’t suppress the rage in his chest. It felt as though he had exerted all his strength to move forward, only to find himself still in the same place.

Feng Ye, who spoke endlessly of his deep affection, had cared only for himself all along.

Under such scrutinizing eyes, Feng Ye felt utterly humiliated. Yet, he forced himself to meet Yan Sikong’s gaze, hardening his heart as he said, “The survival of Guangning, of all Liaodong, lies in my hands. It was you who wrote to me for help. I demand repayment—I demand you.”

Yan Sikong sneered coldly. “If the Wolf King merely wants me to ‘serve’ you in the bedchamber, there’s no need for such grand schemes.”

“I want more than that,” Feng Ye growled. “If you’re unwilling, I will never overstep. I just… I just want to see you every day, to eat with you, to talk with you, to walk a part of the road together, or even do nothing at all, as long as you’re by my side.”

Yan Sikong clenched his fists and said mercilessly, “What you’re doing only makes me despise you more.”

Feng Ye felt as if he were being pierced by a thousand arrows. In a hoarse voice, he said, “If you despise me, it means I still exist in your heart. That’s better than being nothing in your eyes or heart.”

“And if I refuse?” Yan Sikong glared at him.

Feng Ye’s gaze was dark and sharp, like a wolf eyeing its prey. He replied, “Do you dare refuse?”

Yan Sikong took a deep breath and said, word by word, “I don’t dare. Everything will be as the Wolf King wishes.”

Feng Ye reached out with trembling hands and touched Yan Sikong’s cold cheek.

Yan Sikong froze but didn’t pull away this time.

“Kong’er, I will give you everything,” Feng Ye said, his eyes filled with pain and deep emotion. “I hope that one day you can forgive me, that you can trust me again. I dream of the day when we can return to the deep affection of our youth.”

Yan Sikong said bleakly, “There’s no returning to youth.”

Feng Ye lowered his head and gently kissed Yan Sikong’s forehead. Yet his words were imperious: “I say we can, and so we will. We will never part again.”

Yan Sikong stared blankly ahead.

Feng Ye took Yan Sikong’s hand. “Let’s go inside and eat.”

Yan Sikong pulled his hand away and strode into the house.

Feng Ye stood still, watching Yan Sikong’s retreating figure. In his mind, he saw his beloved turning back to give him a tender smile—a smile that could pierce his soul, capable of transforming the coldest winter into spring. Would he ever have the chance to see it again in this lifetime?

Even just once, he would give up everything for it.