The Blood Crown - Extra Story 1: Yan Sikong and Feng Ye

Extra Story 1: Yan Sikong and Feng Ye

 

After years of continuous warfare, spending the Lunar New Year in their hometown was a rare blessing. With the Jin forces finally defeated and Liaodong restored to peace, Feng Ye and Yan Sikong decided to stay in Guangning for the celebrations this year.

 

Feng Ye had completed his inspections of Liaodong, where every city and county were in dire need of rebuilding. After a long winter and yearning for spring, this was the first New Year after their victory, symbolizing prosperity and renewal for the coming year. The festivities had to be grand.

 

Feng Ye generously rewarded the officials and soldiers of Liaodong, waived three years of taxes for the people, and held a grand banquet on Little New Year’s Eve. The admiration and devotion of both officials and civilians toward the Northern Prince grew day by day.

 

On the night of the banquet, Feng Ye, in high spirits, quickly drank too much. In the end, it was Yan Sikong and the servants who helped him back to his chambers.

 

After dismissing the servants, Yan Sikong prepared a wet cloth to wipe Feng Ye’s face. Turning around, he saw Feng Ye already sitting up, his cheeks flushed and eyes misty, smiling at him drunkenly.

 

Yan Sikong chuckled, “Are you really drunk or just pretending?”

 

“Half and half,” Feng Ye laughed, “If I didn’t pretend to be drunk, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

 

Yan Sikong approached and gently wiped his face. “Tomorrow, it will be quiet again. Everyone will go home to reunite with their families.”

 

“Reunite, indeed. Did you see the smiles on their faces?” Feng Ye sighed, “The people of Liaodong no longer have to fear the Jin forces.”

 

“Yes, thanks to His Highness, the Northern Prince.” Yan Sikong smiled, pinching Feng Ye’s cheek lightly.

 

Feng Ye grabbed Yan Sikong’s hand and kissed it. “And thanks to Lord Yan.”

 

Yan Sikong brushed aside a strand of hair on Feng Ye’s forehead and said softly, “You’ve worked so hard for so long. Now that the New Year is here, take a few days to rest properly.”

 

“You, too.” Feng Ye wrapped his arms around Yan Sikong’s waist. “Sometimes, I truly wish we could find a secluded paradise, just the two of us, free from interruptions, sipping tea, enjoying wine, composing poems—how carefree that would be.”

 

Yan Sikong laughed, “You’re barely past thirty, yet you’re thinking such aged thoughts. You must really be tired.”

 

Feng Ye buried his face in Yan Sikong’s chest and murmured, “Yes.”

 

“One day, when the world is at peace, and the people live in harmony, wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, I’ll be with you,” Yan Sikong said as he removed Feng Ye’s hairpin and combed his thick black hair with slender fingers.

 

“Where I go and what I do don’t matter, as long as you’re by my side,” Feng Ye looked up and smiled tenderly at Yan Sikong.

 

Yan Sikong returned the smile, one from the depths of his heart. “I know.”

 

“Let’s sleep,” Feng Ye yawned and pulled Yan Sikong onto the bed.

 

“Let me wash my face first,” Yan Sikong patted his arm.

 

“No need,” Feng Ye held him tightly, flipping him onto the bed with a playful laugh. “I don’t mind.”

 

Yan Sikong sighed helplessly, “You’re acting like a child.”

 

Feng Ye kissed him lightly on the lips. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you somewhere special for the New Year—just the two of us.”

 

“Where?” Yan Sikong asked curiously.

 

“Do you remember the wild hot spring the patrols discovered? I had paths and a pavilion built there. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you up the mountain. We’ll stay there for a few days before returning,” he chuckled. “You can wash as much as you like, and I’ll help you.”

 

Yan Sikong teased, “A Northern Prince indulging in such luxury—aren’t you afraid of gossip?”

 

“With you by my side, I fear nothing,” Feng Ye said, holding him close. “With you, even winter feels warm.”

 

Yan Sikong lay peacefully in Feng Ye’s embrace. He had traveled across the land, experiencing both heaven and hell, and he knew that this chest he leaned on was the safest place in the world. A faint smile touched his lips. “Yes, it’s warm here…”

 

Feng Ye smiled and closed his eyes, nestling his face into Yan Sikong’s neck.

 

The two slept soundly in each other’s arms.

 

—

 

Early the next morning, they had breakfast and set off under the escort of guards.

 

Their entourage included not only soldiers but also three six-month-old wolf pups. Sharing a bloodline with the Feng family’s legendary wolves, they were the strongest among the litter Feng Ye had selected from the pack. Bounding playfully around Zuihong, they were still full of youthful mischief.

 

Watching the pups, Yan Sikong felt a pang of nostalgia for Feng Hun. He reached for the necklace around his neck, its sharp, long wolf tooth a relic from the formidable one-eyed wolf general. It had followed Feng Ye through countless battles, eventually sacrificing itself for its comrades. Its life was a legend.

 

Feng Ye pulled out an identical necklace and smiled faintly. “The hot spring isn’t far from where Hun’er rests. We’ll visit it later.”

 

“Alright,” Yan Sikong said, spurring his horse to keep pace with Zuihong.

 

A column of riders wound its way deep into the mountain forests.

 

At noon, they stopped to rest. Walking on the thick snow, Yan Sikong casually picked up a branch and began drawing on the ground.

 

When Feng Ye came over, he saw the word “Yuan.” Understanding immediately, he asked, “Thinking of Nanyu?”

 

Yan Sikong nodded and sighed. “Chen Mu is truly troublesome. Ever since Nanyu went to the capital in late autumn, he’s been finding excuses to delay his return.”

 

“Nanyu wrote that he’ll be back after the New Year,” Feng Ye said coldly. “Don’t worry; Chen Mu wouldn’t dare keep him indefinitely.”

 

Not worrying was impossible, but Yan Sikong remembered Nanyu’s reassurance to trust him. Even so…

 

Yan Sikong said dejectedly, “I thought we could reunite this year. But Nanyu is far away in the capital, my elder sister is pregnant and can’t return to Guangning, and my elder brother… let’s not even mention him.”

 

He had planned to bring Yuan Weiling and her family back to Guangning, but they had settled elsewhere and were now expecting a child, making travel inconvenient. As for Yuan Shaoxu, ever since his descent into madness, he had been confined to a corner of the estate. Madness, in some ways, was a mercy; otherwise, Feng Ye might not have spared his life.

 

Once filled with hatred and contempt for Yuan Shaoxu, Yan Sikong now saw him as pitiable when recalling their past.

 

“Nanyu will come back for sure. Next year, when your sister is more at ease, I’ll send someone to bring them here. If they don’t want to return, I’ll go with you to visit them. How about that?”

 

Yan Sikong smiled faintly and nodded. “Alright.” He looked toward the capital, longing for Yuan Nanyu’s return.

 

—

 

Another hour’s journey brought them to the wild hot spring.

 

As promised by Feng Ye, the rugged mountain path had been paved, and above the hot spring stood a two-story pavilion perched on the mountainside. The black-tiled roof was blanketed in pristine snow, and under the upturned eaves hung red lanterns, casting a dreamlike glow.

 

The guards set up camp and patrol posts not far away. Inside the pavilion, attendants were already prepared. As they entered, the space was adorned with festive red decorations, the charcoal fire burned brightly, and a faint magnolia fragrance lingered in the air.

 

Feng Ye held Yan Sikong’s hand and smiled, “What do you think?”

 

Yan Sikong glanced around and sincerely replied, “A fine place.”

 

“These past years, living mostly on horseback, I’ve never indulged in any pleasure,” Feng Ye said, swinging Yan Sikong’s hand slightly. “I built this pavilion as a secluded paradise just for the two of us. No one else is allowed. What do you say?”

 

Yan Sikong smiled. “Sounds good.”

 

“This pavilion doesn’t have a name yet. Why don’t you name it?” Feng Ye called out, “Bring paper and a brush.”

 

“You can name it.”

 

“You should do it,” Feng Ye insisted, pulling Yan Sikong to the desk. Hugging him from behind, he placed the brush in his hand and playfully coaxed, “Go on, name it.”

 

Yan Sikong shook his head with a smile. “What kind of name should it be…”

 

“I have one condition.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“It must include a character from your name,” Feng Ye murmured, resting his chin on Yan Sikong’s shoulder with a soft chuckle.

 

Yan Sikong snorted. “Why not take a character from each of our names? That’d save the trouble.”

 

“I didn’t say that. Only yours, not mine,” Feng Ye said, swaying his waist gently against Yan Sikong’s. “Please?”

 

With a faint smile, Yan Sikong thought briefly before writing three bold characters on the pristine white paper: Si Hun Pavilion (Pavilion of Remembrance(Sikong’s Si) and Soul(Feng Hun’s Hun)).

 

“Perfect,” Feng Ye said with a smile.

 

Yan Sikong set down the brush and carefully admired his own writing, a smile playing on his lips.

 

“Someone, come,” Feng Ye called out. “Turn the writing of Yan Sima into a plaque and hang it above the door as soon as possible.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Feng Ye pulled Yan Sikong along, wandering around the warm pavilion. The January chill was biting, and neither of them had much desire to admire the snow-laden trees. By nightfall, they returned for their meal.

 

The dinner was a feast of exquisite dishes, with wine and performances. In such a remote mountain retreat, enjoying such luxuries made Yan Sikong marvel. How could power not tempt the hearts of men? Power is indeed a splendid thing.

 

After their meal, they sobered up and, with the help of attendants, changed into robes. They walked through a tunnel beneath the warm pavilion, which led directly to an outdoor wild hot spring.

 

The wild hot spring, nestled against the snow-capped mountains, emitted warm white steam, curling upward like auspicious clouds, creating a celestial ambiance.

 

Feng Ye led Yan Sikong to the edge, where the rising steam immediately dispelled the winter chill from their feet.

 

Feng Ye glanced sideways at Yan Sikong, “How about we jump in together?”

 

“Childish,” Yan Sikong scolded with a laugh.

 

Suddenly, Feng Ye scooped Yan Sikong up by the waist and, amid Yan Sikong’s startled cry, tossed him into the water.

 

Bursting into laughter, Feng Ye followed him in.

 

Submerged in the water, Yan Sikong felt the warm spring envelop his entire body, soaking into his skin. His hair floated around his face, his body buoyed by the water, as if every burden had been lifted, leaving him feeling so light he might ascend to the clouds.

 

Only when his feet touched the ground did he gather strength to stand and emerge from the water.

 

Feng Ye reached out to help Yan Sikong, but the latter had already surfaced. His jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, framing his face, flowing down to his chest, and spreading across the water’s surface. His fair, jade-like skin made his lips appear all the more vibrantly red, and his dark, bright eyes gleamed like stars in an ink-black night sky.

 

Feng Ye held his breath momentarily. The surroundings were silent, and he could even hear his own racing heartbeat.

 

No matter how many years passed, no matter how familiar they became, Feng Ye still found himself captivated by this man.

 

Yan Sikong gazed quietly at Feng Ye. The dazzling youth from his memories, with his unrestrained wildness, youthful arrogance, and unbridled pride, had now, through the grind of destiny, concealed those traits beneath his skin. They lay dormant within his bones, condensed into a formidable aura of kingly power.

 

The younger Feng Ye was a restless wave; the current Feng Ye was a vast, weighty sea. Yet Yan Sikong knew that the fiery passion and sincerity buried in Feng Ye’s essence belonged to him alone.

 

Feng Ye slowly approached, gently tracing Yan Sikong’s cheek with his fingers. He murmured, “You’re still so beautiful.”

 

Yan Sikong smiled faintly.

 

“I don’t just love your appearance,” Feng Ye said, brushing Yan Sikong’s wet hair aside and tucking it behind his ear. “I loved you the moment I saw you, but not just for your looks. At first, I thought you were perfect—brilliant, talented, destined for greatness, practically flawless. I liked you as though I had no reason not to love a perfect person. But later, I realized you weren’t perfect, not even a good person…” Feng Ye’s gaze grew increasingly fervent. “I’ve felt disappointment, even anger, but the more I understood you, the more I became captivated by you.”

 

Yan Sikong looked at Feng Ye silently.

 

Feng Ye’s hand trailed downward, stopping at Yan Sikong’s chest. He pressed lightly, feeling the faint heartbeat through the skin. “Beneath your exterior lies a vast, tumultuous soul, capable of encompassing all contradictions in the world—good and evil, loyalty and betrayal, affection and indifference, brilliance and folly. That’s all you. How could it all be you…”

 

“Humans are like this.”

 

“No, you’re more complex,” Feng Ye’s eyes betrayed a trace of obsession. “And so I’m ensnared, unable to extricate myself.”

 

Yan Sikong chuckled softly, “Maybe I really am a water spirit.”

 

Feng Ye stared deeply into Yan Sikong’s eyes, his voice hoarse. “You are.”

 

Yan Sikong wrapped his arms around Feng Ye’s neck and tilted his head up to capture Feng Ye’s lips. Feng Ye embraced Yan Sikong’s waist, responding passionately.

 

Their soaked robes clung to their bodies, pressing them tightly together. The warm spring water seemed to ignite their blood, filling them with restless desire and longing.

 

The height of ecstasy consumed them, binding them completely to one another. Their souls and bodies intertwined, inseparable in this life and forevermore. In this moment, there was no world, no self—only each other. Forever, only each other.

 

—

 

(Main couple’s extra story is complete. A little steamy. I’ll start on the side couple’s story in a few days.)