The Blood Crown - Chapter 340

Chapter 340

Yan Sikong urged his horse and galloped out of the city. No one dared to stop him along the way, and he could see no one either. Countless thoughts clashed in his mind, causing his head to throb with unbearable pain.

After leaving the city, he continued to urge the horse to run fast. He didn’t know how long he had been running, his legs trembling against the horse’s belly, his stiff back sore and numb, but he refused to stop. The rapid motion seemed to melt him into the wind, as if he were a wisp of smoke, disappearing without a care for the world.

How wonderful it would be if one could be as carefree and free as the wind?

He ran aimlessly, as though it didn’t matter where he went, as long as he could escape the city behind him that tore at his heart.

Yan Sikong ran for several miles like this, his body weakening, his heart racing in his throat, and his right hand nearly unable to hold the reins.

Suddenly, a boy appeared in front of him, carrying a large bundle of firewood down the mountain. The distance between the boy and the horse was only a dozen steps. Yan Sikong suddenly came to his senses and pulled the reins. The horse neighed and reared up, its front legs striking the ground hard, almost standing upright. In the terrified gaze of the young woodcutter, Yan Sikong was thrown off the horse and rolled into the grass.

The collision with the firm ground brought nothing but pain, dizziness, and a sense of the world turning upside down. For a moment, he couldn’t tell what was real, what was fake, or whether he was alive or dead, or just a soulless body.

He lay on the ground, staring blankly at the bright blue sky above him, his vision blurring.

“Young Master, are you alright?” A timid voice sounded from nearby.

Yan Sikong heard the voice but didn’t even blink. The face that gradually appeared in his mind was one he could never forget—Feng Ye’s face, the face that filled him with both love and hate, the face that he could never erase from his memory.

“Ah, Young Master,” the boy said fearfully. “Where are you hurt? Don’t cry, I’ll go to the city to find a doctor for you.”

Cry?

Who?

Did he cry?

Yan Sikong, confused, reached up and gently wiped his face, only to find his palm wet with tears. He froze for a moment, then his heart suddenly clenched in pain. Tears poured from his eyes uncontrollably, completely obscuring everything in front of him.

Like a child, he curled up in the grass and cried out loud. Since the incident with Yuan Mao, he had never cried so recklessly, without any restraint. It felt as though he was pouring out twenty years’ worth of pent-up tears, an unstoppable flood.

He couldn’t even say why he was crying, or perhaps he had too many reasons to cry, too many to list. All he knew was that he had endured too long, suppressed too much, restrained himself for too long. Now, he could no longer hold on, and everything was finally being released.

It was at that moment that he felt like a real person, no longer hiding behind the false shell of “Yan Sikong.” Or perhaps it was in that moment of vulnerability that he found himself again.

He no longer wanted to pretend, to hide, or deceive himself. He wanted to live for himself, just once, to dare to admit that he still had desires, that he still… still longed for a bit of happiness.

Even someone like him, so miserable, who had been buried in darkness for so long, still yearned for the light.

Feng Ye was that light, even though he had burned him so deeply. The boy who once brought him so much tenderness and joy was still the only light in his heart.

But he could see Feng Ye fading away. How could he let Feng Ye extinguish? That would be like erasing his past.

Why? Why had they become like this?

Yan Sikong didn’t know how long he cried. He even fell asleep in the grass, until the cool breeze woke him up. He opened his eyes and found the sky dimming, the sun about to set.

He struggled to get up but found he had no strength. After a long while, he finally managed to stand up, swaying unsteadily. Through his swollen eyes, he saw his horse grazing nearby.

He stood still for a moment, then couldn’t help but glance toward the west—Datong City. In truth, he had run too far. There was nothing but wild grass around, but he knew every brick and tile of that city, not to mention its people.

After a long time, he went over, took the reins of his horse, and walked toward a nearby stone pavilion.

He tied the horse to the stone post outside the pavilion and sat down on a stone bench, waiting quietly.

As the red sun gradually set, the evening darkness slowly engulfed the earth, but Yan Sikong didn’t move; he just waited.

Just as the last trace of daylight vanished, suddenly, Yan Sikong heard the sound of hooves.

He turned and saw a red horse galloping toward him, the rider clad in armor and helmet, exuding an aura of dominance and killing intent. Even though the rider was alone, the aura was overwhelming.

Yan Sikong’s eyes grew hot, and his heart was filled with mixed emotions.

The horse was the one he had named, the Tianshan Warhorse King, and the rider… was his. His.

Zuihong stopped in front of the stone pavilion, and the group of cavalry following stopped at a distance.

Feng Ye dismounted, his helmet casting a shadow over half his face, making it hard to read his expression. But the slight tightening of his lips betrayed the tension in his mood.

Yan Sikong stood up and walked slowly toward Feng Ye, stopping just in front of him. They faced each other.

Feng Ye gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his knuckles cracking. He spoke in a low voice, “Why haven’t you left?”

Yan Sikong asked in return, “Why did you come?”

“You want the King of the North,” Feng Ye took a step forward and said in a hoarse voice. “The King of the North takes whatever he wants. The King of the North will never let you go.”

Yan Sikong stared at Feng Ye for a long time, then suddenly sneered.

Feng Ye didn’t move, just watching Yan Sikong, his bright eyes flickering.

Yan Sikong slowly walked up to Feng Ye, looking into his eyes. “Are you going to go back on your word?”

Feng Ye lowered his gaze, his lips trembling slightly, and his voice became gentle, “Where are you going? At least, at least tell me, where are you going?”

“Tell you, and then what?”

Feng Ye raised his eyes and gazed directly at Yan Sikong, his expression filled with unshed tears: “Am I not even worthy to know where you are? Even if it’s just to look at you from afar, would that disgust you?”

Yan Sikong sighed heavily. He suddenly reached out and removed Feng Ye’s helmet.

Feng Ye froze.

Yan Sikong threw the heavy helmet aside and stared unblinkingly into Feng Ye’s eyes. “Ask me again.”

“…What?”

“Ask me why I didn’t leave.”

Feng Ye’s heart shook as he stared stiffly at Yan Sikong.

“Ask.”

Feng Ye opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word.

Yan Sikong smiled slightly, but his eyes immediately turned red. He choked out, “I guessed… you would come to find me. If I went too far, it wouldn’t be good for your injuries.”

Feng Ye bit his lip, his tall figure trembling slightly.

Yan Sikong raised his hand, hesitating, cautiously, and gently touched Feng Ye’s face. “I… can’t stop worrying about you. Even if everyone in this world only recognizes the King of the North, I remember you as Feng Ye. Whether you are a king or a prisoner, in my heart, you are always Feng Ye. I will treat you the same.”

Feng Ye stared at Yan Sikong in disbelief, his eyes brimming with tears. “You said… what? Kong’er, what did you say?”

Yan Sikong revealed a bittersweet smile: “Feng Ye, this time, you have to truly treat me well, or else…”

Feng Ye suddenly pulled Yan Sikong into his arms, holding him tightly, tears flooding down his face. “Kong’er… Kong’er…” He had waited for this moment as if he had waited an entire lifetime. He thought he would never get it. He thought that after today, he would sink into the abyss of pain, never to recover. He thought… he even doubted if he was dreaming, to the point that he could say nothing but calling out that name that drove him crazy.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Everything from the past was still vivid in his mind. He knew clearly that a world without Yan Sikong was the true nightmare.

Yan Sikong’s face was also full of tears, and his heart was filled with sorrow. He held Feng Ye back, feeling his broad and warm chest, just as in the past, the most reassuring place in this world. Even though they had become strangers later, he never forgot everything Feng Ye had given him.

In the end, he had resisted, he had escaped, but he could never escape the bond between him and Feng Ye.

If this was their destiny, he accepted it, no matter how thorny the road ahead, no matter how many traps lay hidden, he would not hesitate.

Feng Ye, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline, held onto Yan Sikong tightly, unwilling to let go, as if afraid that if he did, everything would turn into a fleeting illusion, disappearing without a trace.

Now that he had hold of it, he would never let go, not even in death.

“Kong’er, I will… I will give you everything, I will treat you well, I…” Feng Ye cried, unable to speak.

Yan Sikong closed his eyes.

He remembered when Feng Ye asked him what he wanted.

There were many things he wanted, but he didn’t dare to ask for them. He knew all too well the pain of gaining something only to lose it, so it was better not to gain it at all.

But this person in his arms, the one he belonged to in this lifetime, even though he had once filled him with resentment, could never outweigh the deep love he once had. He used every means to try to forget, but he couldn’t. Perhaps this bond of life and death with Feng Ye was truly their fate, and he accepted it, no matter what the future held.

Feng Ye’s body began to lean forward, and Yan Sikong, as if waking from a dream, steadied himself and anxiously said, “What’s wrong? Is it your wound… let me see your injury!”

Feng Ye ignored him, muttering “Kong’er” over and over again, as if that name was a protective charm. He repeated it, as if confirming that Yan Sikong was truly in his arms. His body became weaker and weaker, sinking toward the ground.

“Feng Ye!” Yan Sikong held onto Feng Ye tightly and shouted, “Someone, come!”

Feng Ye smiled through his tears. “I’m fine, I will never be in danger again. I want to watch you every day. Kong’er, do you know, you are my… life.”

Yan Sikong spoke hoarsely. “Then live well. If you ever do something so foolish again, I won’t forgive you!”

“I won’t,” Feng Ye’s voice became weaker. “I want to live and die with you…” He could no longer support himself and collapsed into Yan Sikong’s arms, falling unconscious.

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