The Blood Crown - Chapter 99

Yan Sikong was heavily intoxicated that day. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and usually restrained himself, never truly getting drunk in his life. This time, however, he might have been the most intoxicated he had ever been in front of others. Firstly, there were too many people coming to congratulate him, and he couldn’t avoid it. Secondly, perhaps deep down, he wanted to get drunk. Being intoxicated would allow him to temporarily escape.

In the end, Yan Sikong was carried out of the Taihe Hall by others. Emperor Zhaowu sent Yujia to accompany him personally, and it was the first time Yan Sikong rode in the palace’s sedan chair.

When they arrived at the Yan’s residence, Yujia covered her nose with a handkerchief, frowned at the crude door lintel, and the inner eunuch knocked on the door.

After a while, the door opened from inside, revealing a burly man with a grotesque and terrifying face, frightening the group of inner eunuchs.

Yujia pointed at Ali, “Who are you? This is Marquis Yan’s residence, isn’t it?”

Ali nodded blankly and peered at the carriage.

“Oh my, why does Marquis Yan live in such a place and even find such…” Yujia coughed lightly, “tsk, why does he live in such a poor place? His excellency is drunk, and His Majesty personally sent me to escort him back to the residence.”

Ali nodded again, unsure of what to do.

“Kneel down and thank you.” Yujia said loudly.

Ali hurriedly knelt down.

Yujia waved her hand, and a few inner eunuchs helped the drunken Yan Sikong off the carriage and into the house.

Yujia followed along, frowning at the furnishings around her, while Ali kept glancing at Yan Sikong, feeling nervous being alone with so many strangers.

The inner eunuchs helped Yan Sikong into the bedroom and took care of him, changing his clothes and helping him freshen up. Yujia stood outside the door and glanced at Ali, “Are you mute?”

Ali nodded.

“Are you the only servant in this house?”

Ali nodded again.

“Marquis Yan really lives in such poverty. It’s gratifying to have such upright and devoted subjects in my reign, but when Princess Wanyang marries, she can’t live in such a broken place.” Yujia glanced at Ali, knowing why the Emperor had sent her along. Otherwise, such trivial matters wouldn’t have bothered the superintendent eunuch. “Your master is now the Marquis, and His Majesty will soon grant him a new residence and servants. As an old servant, you will naturally also be elevated. But being a Marquis is not that easy. In ordinary families, the husband is the head, and even if a princess marries, it doesn’t mean reversing the norms. But you need to understand that from now on, you will have more than one master. Serve the princess well, and your master can enjoy glory for generations to come. Understand?”

Ali nodded vigorously.

After Yujia left, Yan Sikong quietly opened his eyes a crack. He took a deep breath and hoarsely asked, “Are they all gone?”

Ali helped Yan Sikong up, handed him a cup of sobering tea, and he gulped it down for a long time before his throat felt a little better. Leaning against the cushion, he looked at Ali weakly, “Ali, I know you’re very worried, but this matter has been decided.”

Ali thought for a moment and gestured, asking if he wanted to marry the princess.

Yan Sikong’s eyes were swollen, his face flushed, and his hair disheveled. He had none of his usual vigor and vitality but instead looked as defeated as a stray dog. He murmured, “Whether I want to marry her or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that I must marry her.”

Ali fell silent for a moment and gestured again, saying that the princess seemed pitiful.

“As the daughter of the emperor, this is her fate,” Yan Sikong replied.

Ali asked about Feng Ye again.

Yan Sikong shook his head, “He will come to me soon. Go rest, Ali. I have my own way.”

Ali had no choice but to stand up, bow, and leave.

Yan Sikong stared at the empty eyes for a long time, gazing at the wall, before finally unable to resist the drunkenness and collapsing onto the bed.

In a daze, he suddenly felt a gust of cold wind blowing into the room. The charcoal fire in the room was still burning brightly. This sudden gust of wind woke him up instantly, and he realized what was happening.

He slowly climbed up from the bed and saw Feng Ye standing at the bedside. His tall figure blocked the dim candlelight, making his face appear particularly cold in the shadows.

Yan Sikong sighed, “You’re here. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“When did you find out?” Feng Ye asked in a cold voice.

“…After returning to the capital,” Yan Sikong replied.

“Don’t lie to me!”

Yan Sikong took a deep breath, cleverly avoiding the question of timing, “You had lost trust in me because of the Ge Zhong incident when we reconciled. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

“You couldn’t bring yourself to tell me?” Feng Ye gritted his teeth, “How many other things can’t you bring yourself to say?”

“Even if I did, what difference would it make?” Yan Sikong said softly.

“If I had known earlier, I could have stopped it!” Feng Ye stepped forward, grabbed Yan Sikong’s collar, his face full of anger. “You didn’t want to tell me, you were afraid to tell me, afraid that I would stop you from becoming the Marquis, weren’t you?”

Yan Sikong trembled, “I had no intention of becoming the Marquis, but my teacher pleaded with His Majesty on my behalf.”

“And you readily accepted it!” Feng Ye fiercely threw Yan Sikong onto the bed.

“How could I defy the decree? I’m already twenty-four years old, and it’s inevitable that I’ll get married sooner or later,” Yan Sikong shouted, “You’ll get married sooner or later too!”

“Why must it be Wanyang?” Feng Ye pressed down on Yan Sikong’s shoulders, “I can endure other women, but why Wanyang? Why my cousin?”

“I had no say in it!” Yan Sikong stared into Feng Ye’s bright eyes, “And neither do you.”

“If you had told me earlier, I could have…”

“What could you have done? Could you have pressured the Emperor to change his mind, marry Wanyang to a noble family, and cause suspicion towards King Jingyuan?” 

“And so what!” Feng Ye roared, “Without my father, his throne wouldn’t have been secure thirty years ago, and without my father, his reign won’t be secure thirty years from now. I can’t even decide who my cousin marries?”

Yan Sikong’s face turned pale with shock, and the alcohol woke him up completely. He said sternly, “Are you crazy? You dare say anything after drinking? Are you insane?”

Feng Ye’s face was full of pride and ferocity, “What? Are you only afraid now? The Chen family’s power is maintained by our Feng family. If I…”

Yan Sikong covered Feng Ye’s mouth with his hand, “Stop talking!”

Feng Ye shook off Yan Sikong’s hand with great force, knocking him down onto the bed.

Yan Sikong took a deep breath, his mind in turmoil. He said hoarsely, “Feng Ye, stop it. This matter has been decided.” His tone was pleading, afraid of Feng Ye’s arrogance, especially after what he had just said.

“Yes, this matter has been decided. If you hadn’t hidden it from me, I could have stopped it,” Feng Ye said with bloodshot eyes, looking down at Yan Sikong from a high vantage point. “You’re about to marry my cousin. Have you ever thought about what I should do? Have you ever considered it, even for a moment?”

“I’ve thought about you the most,” Yan Sikong said hoarsely. “I planned… I planned to tell you once the Ge Zhong incident passed. I didn’t expect the marriage to happen so quickly…”

“Do you think I’ll still believe you?”

“What I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell you today,” Yan Sikong covered his eyes and said wearily, “Feng Ye, actually this day was bound to come sooner or later.”

“Yes, but that woman shouldn’t have been Xier. How can I face my aunt? If she knew, her son-in-law has been in my bed, every inch of his body, marked by me…”

“That’s enough,” Yan Sikong said in a low voice.

Feng Ye leaned down, his eyes dark and bottomless. “And there’s Xier. Will she know how lascivious her beloved husband was under me, how he begged me with tears…”

“Enough!” Yan Sikong pushed Feng Ye’s chest with his palm, but Feng Ye grabbed his wrist, diverted the force, and pressed him onto the bed.

“And the Emperor and your teacher, do they know your true face? Do they know how cunning and ruthless you are beneath your facade of virtue? Do they know that you, the ‘pillar of integrity’ and ‘talented scholar’, fabricated letters and framed court officials?!” Feng Ye said fiercely.

Yan Sikong’s breathing trembled.

Yan Sikong considered himself multi-faceted, but Feng Ye’s different faces frightened him more. When Feng Ye was good, it seemed like he would give you endless love, but once angered, it was as if he could devour you alive.

Sometimes Feng Ye’s excessive indulgence made him temporarily forget that he was dealing with a wolf.

Yan Sikong placed his hand on Feng Ye’s chest. “Feng Ye, you’ve had too much to drink. Let’s talk when you’re sober.”

“I’m very sober now.” Feng Ye grabbed Yan Sikong’s hand, pressed it to his side, and continued, “Perhaps more sober than ever. I finally understand that if I have ten points for you, you only have one or two for me.” His eyes reddened. “You don’t care about hurting me. You only care about power, about your revenge.”

“No,” Yan Sikong’s heart ached suddenly. He choked, “Feng Ye, you’re the person I care about the most in this world. The people I truly cared about are all dead. I only have you now.”

Feng Ye’s eyes softened for a moment, but then were replaced by anger. “Then why do you want to marry Wanyang? Revenge is more important to you than me!”

Yan Sikong stared at Feng Ye blankly, unable to refute. He knew he couldn’t deceive Feng Ye, the more he cared about someone, the less he could deceive them.

Seeing him seemingly admitting, Feng Ye felt heartbroken. He clenched his fists, his throat emitting a beast-like growl. He suddenly grabbed Yan Sikong’s neck, roughly pressed his lips against his, and forcibly kissed him.

“Feng…ye…”

Feng Ye tore open Yan Sikong’s clothes, biting and marking his chest and abdomen with punishing force, as if wanting to leave his marks on this person’s body in the most savage way possible.

Yan Sikong’s loose inner garments quickly became tattered under Feng Ye’s hands. He looked at Feng Ye dazedly, but Feng Ye’s face was already blurry, only those sharp eyes piercing into his heart.

Feng Ye looked at the bruises he left on Yan Sikong’s fair skin, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. He caressed this body that he had come to know so well, still maintaining some restraint in his anger, suppressing the impulse to devour this person and possess him forever.

Yan Sikong was powerless to struggle. He clung to Feng Ye’s sleeves, as if trying to prevent Feng Ye from pushing him into the suffocating abyss, yet also as if Feng Ye was his lifeline. He struggled, conflicted, his heart as dead as ashes.

When Feng Ye rudely entered his body, what Yan Sikong felt was not pain, but clarity. It was as if the thick fog in front of him had suddenly cleared, all the turbidity dissipated, leaving only two entwined bodies for him to feel, and to feel Feng Ye more clearly – his bright red eyes, his burning body, his coarse breath, his scorching desire, and his silent roar of anger and sadness.

He thought, if he fell into the abyss with Feng Ye like this, it might not be a bad ending.