The Blood Crown - Chapter 339

Chapter 339

Feng Ye sat on the couch, his face dark and brooding, staring silently at the bedding. Half of his dressing had been changed, and the wound on his strong, bare chest, with faint traces of blood, stood out starkly.

Yuan Nanyu, like a furiously agitated lion, stood by the bed, his eyes wide open and his face turning pale with anger.

At the sound of footsteps, both raised their heads and turned their gazes toward the door, where Yan Sikong had just entered. Their expressions were different, but both were marked with unusual emotions.

Yan Sikong glared at them. “What’s going on here?”

Yuan Nanyu ground his teeth and glanced at Feng Ye, seemingly unsure of how to speak.

Feng Ye’s once sharp and arrogant wolf-like eyes, which had looked down on the world, were now dull, filled with pain and despair. He quietly looked at Yan Sikong, his lips tightly pressed, as if silently pleading for help.

Yes, Yan Sikong felt that Feng Ye was asking for his help.

Yuan Nanyu lowered his head and stormed out without saying a word.

Yan Sikong grabbed his arm. “What happened?”

“Ask him yourself,” Yuan Nanyu said, his voice trembling, though whether it was from anger or something else…

Hearing this, Feng Ye turned his face away in avoidance.

After Yuan Nanyu left, Yan Sikong stared at Feng Ye, waiting for him to speak. But Feng Ye remained silent.

Yan Sikong took a deep breath. “Feng Ye, what exactly…”

“I’m tired,” Feng Ye whispered. “I want to rest.”

Yan Sikong clenched his fists. “I’ll call someone to change your dressing.” He turned and left.

Feng Ye opened his mouth, but he could only watch Yan Sikong’s retreating figure, unable to speak. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in torment.

Yan Sikong ordered his servant to quickly find a doctor to treat Feng Ye’s wounds, then went to find Yuan Nanyu.

After searching for a while, he finally found Yuan Nanyu standing motionless by the lake in the back garden, his back looking especially desolate.

Although he heard the footsteps, Yuan Nanyu didn’t turn around. He watched a koi fish leap out of the water, sending ripples outward, disappearing without a trace.

No matter how much turmoil had been caused, everything would eventually return to calm. The fish, the wind, and people were all the same.

Yan Sikong walked over and stood beside Yuan Nanyu. He turned his head, looking at that face that resembled his own, feeling a sense of daze for a moment.

The two of them stood in silence for a long while.

Finally, Yuan Nanyu spoke. “Second Brother, are you leaving? Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“…Did Feng Ye say something to you?”

Yuan Nanyu turned to look at Yan Sikong. “You said that we brothers would have no more secrets, but are you planning to disappear like before?”

“I wasn’t planning to hide anything from you, just didn’t have time to tell you. Maybe… I’ll return to Guangning,” Yan Sikong frowned. “But what exactly happened between you and Feng Ye?”

Yuan Nanyu muttered, “I’ve followed Feng Ye for so many years. In my eyes, he is the greatest hero in the world. Whether as an emperor or the King of the North, to be able to follow such a remarkable person and display my talents under his command, it’s a blessing in my life.”

Yan Sikong quietly looked at Yuan Nanyu, waiting for him to continue.

“There is only one thing he has done that I cannot accept, and that is… you,” Yuan Nanyu said in a deep voice. “The matter between you two, I don’t dare to speak much about, but for all these years, I have watched as you two clearly have feelings for each other but continue to torment each other. It’s truly heartbreaking.”

Yan Sikong sighed. Yuan Nanyu knew everything that had happened between him and Feng Ye, but he had never asked much, partly because he was the elder brother, and partly because he always considered others and didn’t want to cause any discomfort or embarrassment.

But not speaking didn’t mean he didn’t care.

Yan Sikong whispered, “What happened between us is hard to explain, and we can never go back.”

“Why must it always be about going back?” Yuan Nanyu furrowed his brows deeply. “No matter how good the past was, no one can go back, but the future is still long.”

Yan Sikong was stunned.

Yuan Nanyu pressed his lips together. “Second Brother, I don’t want to control you or make things difficult for you, but watching you two like this… it’s tearing me apart. I haven’t seen you smile sincerely in so long, and the same goes for Feng Ye. I have to watch you grow more and more silent, watch Feng Ye lose control more and more.” His eyes gradually reddened as he looked at Yan Sikong. “Second Brother, tell me, what can I do to stop you both from… from being like this…” He couldn’t find the right words to describe it.

Yan Sikong turned his gaze away. “You don’t need to do anything. You can’t do anything. I…”

“Then should I just watch Feng Ye throw his life away?” Yuan Nanyu’s face was filled with anger and grief.

Yan Sikong stiffened. “What… what are you saying?” Though he had already suspected something, it was still just a suspicion.

Yuan Nanyu covered his eyes with his hand, speaking softly, “Second Brother, I don’t know what to do. You two are the people I would risk my life for. Why must you torture each other like this?”

“What are you really saying?” Yan Sikong gritted his teeth.

Yuan Nanyu shook his head, his eyes filled with pain, his voice trembling with barely restrained emotion. “His wound should have healed by now, but… but he… he repeatedly used his inner force to reopen it…”

Yan Sikong felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave, his face turning pale as paper.

“When I asked him why, he said…” Yuan Nanyu sucked in a sharp breath, his voice hoarse, “He said if his wound healed, you would leave.”

Yan Sikong’s mind went blank, and for a moment, he couldn’t think of anything. Then, suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his heart, almost knocking him off his feet.

He staggered back two steps, nearly falling into the lake. When he regained his senses, he found himself stumbling back along the path. He passed many people along the way, and from their astonished or questioning gazes, he could tell how disoriented and lost he must look.

He ran all the way back to Feng Ye’s residence and kicked open the door.

The room was in complete chaos, as if a storm had passed through. All the furnishings had been knocked to the floor, and the servants knelt, not daring to breathe.

Feng Ye stood in the center of the room, his hair messy, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot and wild like a cornered beast, both pitiful and dangerous. He was only wearing a pair of underpants, his upper body bare, with his chest wound still bleeding, but he ignored it.

Across the half-empty room, their eyes met. In that instant, it felt as if a thousand arrows pierced his heart.

Yan Sikong stormed over and slapped Feng Ye hard across the face.

People usually thought of Yan Sikong as unorthodox, but little did they know that he had been raised with Confucian values, respecting rituals and laws. Even when facing enemies, he made every effort to maintain decorum. How could he, in front of his servants, show such blatant disrespect toward the mighty King of the North?

But in that moment, he couldn’t control the rage that filled his chest. His blood boiled, spreading through his body and burning every inch of his being, not only with pain but with madness.

Feng Ye’s head turned to the side from the force of the slap, his lips bleeding from the impact.

The kneeling servants trembled.

Yan Sikong said coldly, “Get out.”

The servants scrambled to leave.

Feng Ye turned his face back, his wolf-like eyes full of blood vessels, devoid of life, only exhaustion and despair.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Yan Sikong glared at Feng Ye, his face twisted in rage.

Feng Ye said quietly, “You said it. You said if my wound healed, you would leave.”

“Are you… are you really insane?!”

“So what if I am?” Feng Ye looked at Yan Sikong with hollow eyes. “Do you care?”

Before Yan Sikong could respond, Feng Ye continued, speaking as if to himself, “You care, you care about the Wolf King, the King of the North, but not about me, Feng Ye. If someone can replace me, then I die, what does it matter to you?” He gave a bitter laugh. “You’d probably be happy, no one would bother you anymore.”

Yan Sikong felt as though his chest was going to explode. “You, the mighty King of the North, can actually do such absurd things. Have you thought about the people of the Four Commanderies? Have you thought about the two hundred thousand soldiers of the Feng family? Have you thought about…”

“Who has ever thought about me?” Feng Ye looked at Yan Sikong, the pain in his heart already beyond bearing, as if an invisible hand was choking his throat, ready to steal his breath away. “I still don’t understand, why does loving someone have to be so painful?”

“…A man should never be ruled by his emotions,” Yan Sikong’s vision blurred, his heart aching deeply. He spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “It’s just pathetic.”

“Yes, pathetic, but I am still ruled by it,” Feng Ye choked out. “I don’t want to make things difficult for you. I promised you, the sky is vast, I’ll let you go, I just… just want to keep you for one more day, even one more day…”

Yan Sikong’s mind was in turmoil. He didn’t know whether his anger or his sorrow was stronger at this moment. He trembled as he pointed at Feng Ye, losing his composure. “What I want is a King of the North who can lead the northern border and bring prosperity to the people, not a pathetic coward who disregards his own safety for the sake of love!”

Feng Ye stared at Yan Sikong, his soul seemingly ripped from his body. The last spark of light in his eyes faded. He looked at Yan Sikong for a long while before nodding slightly, his voice soft. “What you want, I’ll give. I’ll give you the King of the North.”

Yan Sikong stared rigidly at Feng Ye. Though Feng Ye was standing right in front of him, he could distinctly feel that Feng Ye was dying—not as the King of the North, but as “Feng Ye.”

Feng Ye lowered his head, gathering what little strength he had left to speak in a weak voice, “…Go, before I change my mind.”

He finally understood that no one in this world needed Feng Ye anymore, especially the one person he needed the most, who needed him the least.

So “Feng Ye” should disappear.

Yan Sikong was filled with grief and anger. He had never been so out of control in his life, but at this moment, he only wanted to run. He couldn’t bear to look into Feng Ye’s eyes anymore. Those dim, lifeless eyes were exactly like the ones Feng Ye had when he had fallen into his arms after being shot—dying, yet no longer asking for help.

And so, he clearly saw that the emotional wall Feng Ye had built for him had already crumbled. He was afraid, terrified, and fled in panic. He didn’t even know what he was running from, he just wanted to escape. He burst out of the room, ran to the stable, grabbed a horse, mounted it, and galloped out of the city without looking back.

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Im waiting for their misery to end i literally have no more tears to cry