The Blood Crown - Chapter 316

Inside Guangning City

Xu Feng, who was sent to pursue the fleeing enemy, had returned to the city. He had chased them for over ten miles, killing four thousand and capturing six hundred. If not for the well-trained Dorbod troops protecting their rear to the death, the Jurchens, terrified by the wolf packs, would have completely scattered.

As soon as Xu Feng entered the city, he rushed to report to Liang Huiyong and Yan Sikong. At the sight of them, he anxiously asked, “I heard the Wolf King was seriously injured. How is he?”

Yan Sikong’s face was as pale as paper, expressionless as he replied, “General Que is treating the Wolf King.”

“Then…” Xu Feng hesitated to continue.

“He has sent someone to Medicine Valley,” Yan Sikong said with his eyes closed, his voice heavy. “General Xu, what is the situation outside?”

Xu Feng reported the facts.

Liang Huiyong stroked his beard. “Six hundred prisoners… Yan Sikong, how do you think we should deal with them?”

Yan Sikong pondered for a moment before slowly opening his eyes. “Our camp was attacked, the prey slipped away, and we lost twenty thousand troops. With Zhuo Letai’s fiery temper, he must be furious. At this moment, we should stoke his anger further.”

“Kill the prisoners,” Liang Huiyong suggested.

Yan Sikong turned to Xu Feng. “Leave one to return and report to Zhuo Letai. Tell him… he will never set foot in Guangning, neither twenty-one years ago nor today.”

“Yes.”

“Wait.” Yan Sikong looked down at his hands. Blood still lingered faintly in the cracks of his nails and palm lines—Feng Ye’s blood. It seemed to have seeped into his very being, chilling him to the bone even in a room surrounded by fire. He spoke softly, “Cut off their hands first.”

“…What?” Xu Feng was stunned.

“The Jurchens have plundered countless people of the Central Plains—land, wealth, women, lives…” Yan Sikong’s gaze grew icy. “Cut off their thieving hands and send them to Zhuo Letai.”

Xu Feng cupped his fists. “Understood!”

After Xu Feng left, Liang Huiyong said gravely, “The Wolf King is injured, and the news of Feng Changyue’s deployment must have already reached Zhuo Letai. Under such urgency, he may attack the city soon. Another great battle is upon us.”

The outcome was uncertain.

“Only by defending the city do we have a chance to win,” Yan Sikong said wearily. “But this ambush nearly ruined everything… It proves that there are spies not only in the court but also in Guangning City—perhaps even in the army. General Liang, this matter must be thoroughly investigated.”

“I’ve already sent people to investigate.”

“Could it be the spy who’s been in contact with Han Zhaoxing’s eldest son?”

“Impossible,” Liang Huiyong shook his head. “His every move is under our watch. This must be someone else.”

Yan Sikong said coldly, “Investigate. Even if it means overturning the entire army, we must find them.”

At this moment, the door to Feng Ye’s room opened, and Yuan Nanyu stepped out.

Yan Sikong and Liang Huiyong stood up, looking at him in fear.

Yuan Nanyu’s face was full of exhaustion and worry. He sank into a chair, his voice tinged with fear. “That arrow… if it had been an inch further to the left, he would have died on the spot.”

“How is he now?” Yan Sikong asked softly.

“I’ve done everything I can. The bleeding has stopped, but his heart and meridians are very weak. He’s still in great danger. We must heal his injured organs for him to have any chance of waking up.”

“How do we treat him? What medicine is needed?”

Yuan Nanyu glanced at Yan Sikong. “Don’t be afraid when I tell you.”

“What more could I fear at this point?”

“Yes, Nanyu, just tell us,” Liang Huiyong urged.

Yuan Nanyu took a deep breath and pointed to his chest. “We need to… open this up.”

Yan Sikong staggered back a step, his eyes wide like bells. “…What?”

Open the chest? Could he still survive that?

“I know it sounds unbelievable. Many of the techniques from Medicine Valley are shocking. I’ve seen my master perform it, but… my skills are insufficient, and I dare not try.” Yuan Nanyu said heavily, “If we’re lucky, my master could arrive in a few days.”

Liang Huiyong frowned. “Can the Wolf King hold out that long?”

Yuan Nanyu lowered his head, unable to answer.

Yan Sikong clenched his fists and walked toward Feng Ye’s room, pushing the door open.

The room was filled with the strong scent of medicinal herbs. Even a whiff carried an unbearable bitterness, a bitterness that mirrored the scars of fate.

On a thick mat laid on the floor beside the bed, Fenghun lay unconscious. Its body was wrapped in layers of white bandages, blood seeping through, stinging the eye.

Though its injuries were not fatal, it had lost a lot of blood. It had only just stabilized and, like its elder brother, lay unconscious.

Yan Sikong walked to the bedside, looking at the unmoving Feng Ye. His lips were pale, his cheeks sunken, his breath weak. In just a few days, he had become drastically thinner.

This frail, haggard, and battered Feng Ye was not a sight Yan Sikong had seen for the first time. Years ago, when Feng Ye was imprisoned in the imperial dungeon for half a year, enduring countless tortures, the legendary heir of the Prince of Jingyuan, known for his divine strength, had been so weakened he couldn’t even mount a horse during his escape.

But back then, he was still full of vitality. Suffering and torment had not extinguished his will; his eyes had burned with the flames of vengeance.

Now, he couldn’t even open his eyes.

Yan Sikong leaned against the headboard in a daze, his mind blank. He didn’t know what to think or what to do.

Before this, he had never truly considered what he would do if Feng Ye died. Feng Ye was the strongest, most formidable, and most fearless man he had ever met. Such a person seemed invincible, capable of navigating through storms of arrows and bullets, especially with tens of thousands of troops at his command.

But in the end, Feng Ye was just flesh and blood. Who could escape the cycle of life and death?

The thought of Feng Ye dying filled Yan Sikong with suffocating fear. He and Feng Ye had been entangled in love and hate for ten years. This man had long since become a part of him. He wanted to strip away his feelings, but he knew he could never separate himself from Feng Ye, because Feng Ye was deeply embedded in his bones and soul. As long as he remembered himself, he would remember Feng Ye.

Yan Sikong lowered his head and gazed at Feng Ye for a long time before gently reaching out. With his fingertips, he traced Feng Ye’s well-defined features. For the first time, he realized how profoundly grateful one could feel simply to touch another’s warmth, as though in reverence of the gods.

At least he was still alive.

His only thought was to ensure Feng Ye lived.

—

Seven days later, the carriage from the Medicine Valley arrived at Guangning Garrison.

At this time, Feng Ye was still unconscious, while Feng Hun had awakened but remained weak, only able to consume liquid food daily.

Three people came from the Medicine Valley: a man dressed in a pure white cloak, wearing a bamboo hat with a white veil, and two child attendants, one male and one female, each carrying large medicine boxes on their backs.

The man had a cascade of long silver hair flowing down his back. Yet his tall, upright posture and steady steps betrayed no sign of old age.

Yan Sikong and Yuan Nanyu went to greet him. Upon seeing him, they couldn’t help but feel surprised. Could it be that the Medicine Valley’s master, Que Linghu, was not the aged elder they had imagined? Though mysterious, rumors about him in the martial world suggested he was nearly a hundred years old.

Yuan Nanyu dropped to his knees in the snow with a loud thud, kowtowing heavily. “Disciple greets Master.”

Que Linghu approached slowly, flicking his sleeve across Yuan Nanyu’s face. In a cold voice, he said, “What have you accomplished wandering the martial world?”

His voice was that of an ordinary young man.

“Disciple is ashamed.”

“Thought you had graduated, did you? And now you’re dragging my old bones into this mess.”

“Disciple is incompetent and unfilial,” Yuan Nanyu said cautiously, clearly terrified of Que Linghu.

Que Linghu snorted coldly.

Yan Sikong bowed respectfully. “Junior greets Master Que.”

Que Linghu tilted his head slightly. “You’re the Yan Sikong I’ve heard so much about.”

“That’s correct, Master.”

Que Linghu silently sized up Yan Sikong before saying, “Take me to see the Wolf King.”

With that, he strode into the residence, the two child attendants following closely behind without sparing a glance at anyone else.

Liang Huiyong exchanged a glance with Yan Sikong and whispered, “So mysterious. Is this what they call a reclusive expert?”

“Shh,” Yuan Nanyu said, making a gesture for silence. “Be respectful and humble before my master. If you upset him, there’ll be consequences.”

Yan Sikong frowned. “How old is Master Que?”

Yuan Nanyu shook his head. “No one knows. Probably over a hundred.”

Liang Huiyong exclaimed, “What? Is he an immortal?”

“He…” Yuan Nanyu began, “Saving lives is the priority. Let’s discuss this later.”

They followed him inside.

Que Linghu had just removed his bamboo hat. His appearance was otherworldly and handsome, his tall figure as graceful as jade. With his silver hair and youthful demeanor, he looked like a celestial being, not showing any signs of old age.

Both Yan Sikong and Liang Huiyong were astonished, though Yuan Nanyu seemed unfazed.

Que Linghu looked at the wolf on the ground. Feng Hun half-opened his eyes to look back at him.

“That’s the Wolf King’s wolf,” Yuan Nanyu explained hastily.

“It’s dying. Give me its heart for medicine,” Que Linghu said.

“Master, you mustn’t,” Yuan Nanyu protested anxiously.

“There are many wolf carcasses in the city, which can be offered to Master Que,” Yan Sikong said. “But not this one.”

Que Linghu ignored them, striding to Feng Ye’s bedside and sitting down. He placed his fingers on Feng Ye’s pulse. After a while, he turned to glare at Yuan Nanyu. “You gave him the Xuantian Pill.”

Yuan Nanyu lowered his head, too afraid to speak.

“That’s a life-saving treasure,” Que Linghu said coldly. “Do you know how precious it is?”

“I used it to save a life,” Yuan Nanyu replied.

Que Linghu looked down at Feng Ye, then said gravely, “This man is naturally belligerent, untamed, and hard to control. If he secures the throne, he’ll likely plunge the land into endless wars. Is he truly someone worth following?”

Without hesitation, Yuan Nanyu said, “The Wolf King has the people and the nation in his heart. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to save Liaodong.”

Que Linghu was silent for a moment. “His pulse is dangerously weak. We can’t delay any longer. Wang’er, stay here. The rest of you, leave.”

Yan Sikong looked at Yuan Nanyu in confusion. Yuan Nanyu gave him a firm look. “Master will definitely save him.”

Yan Sikong clenched his fists, took one last deep look at Feng Ye, and left with Liang Huiyong. But they didn’t go far, choosing instead to wait in the courtyard.

Liang Huiyong paced anxiously while Yan Sikong stood still with his eyes closed, silently reciting prayers. He didn’t believe in gods or Buddha, but now, other than praying, he found himself utterly powerless.

Feng Ye’s life was in someone else’s hands, and he could do nothing about it. This despair and helplessness gnawed at his heart.

Suddenly, a soldier ran into the courtyard, shouting, “General, something’s wrong!”

“Shut up!” Liang Huiyong scolded in a low voice. “Quiet!”

The soldier fell silent immediately but still looked at Liang Huiyong with urgency.

“Speak. What’s the matter?” Liang Huiyong asked in a hushed tone.

The soldier dropped to one knee and whispered, “The Jin forces have surrounded the city!”

Yan Sikong’s eyes snapped open.