Yan Sikong fell asleep without knowing when, but was woken up by the cold before dawn. The dungeon was so cold that he curled up in a ball wrapped in a quilt, still shivering.

It seems that he was imprisoned twice in his life, both times as a punishment of being confined to the wilderness. It was so ironic that the person he hated failed to do what the person he loved did.

He was not feeling well here, and Ali was naturally not feeling any better. I wonder how Ali was doing now. Feng Ye wouldn't make things difficult for him, would he? He was dumb, and even if he tortured him, he wouldn't be able to get anything out of him. But if Feng Ye was just venting his anger...

Yan Sikong couldn't bear to think about it any further. Ali had been at his side for so many years in order to repay his life-saving grace. He was the only person he could trust in the world. What was the point of following him? He was always worried and would be implicated by him. If he could get out again this time, he would give Ali a large sum of money, let him leave, go back to the countryside, marry an honest and caring girl, have children, and live out the rest of his life in peace...

But he can't protect himself now.

Besides, even if he got out, where could he go?

The only person he had ever loved had thrown him into jail for treason, and the students he had brought up had colluded with his enemies to frame him. To the court, he was a traitor who deserved to be cut into pieces, and to the world, he was a notorious traitor. If you think about it carefully, there is no place for him in this world.

He couldn't help but smile bitterly. Yan Sikong, ah Yan Sikong, you claim to be smart and have been planning all your life, but in the end, it's all in vain and you've ended up in such a situation?

His former lofty ambitions, in this cell that was so cold that he was shivering, were like a flame in the cold wind, struggling to maintain that weak light.

Before long, it was daybreak.

The jailer brought the meal, placed it outside the iron fence and left. He did not raise his head or speak a word the whole time, just following Feng Ye's order not to have any contact with him.

"Wait." Yan Sikong stood up and walked over, his throat making a hoarse sound, "It's too cold, bring me charcoal and thick clothes and bedding."

The jailer turned a deaf ear and walked straight out.

Yan Sikong kicked the food on the ground and said, "You can choose whether to starve me to death or freeze me to death."

The jailer paused, turned around and glared at Yan Sikong, then turned and left.

At noon, the jailer brought the food as usual. Yan Sikong did not move at all, but just closed his eyes and meditated.

At night, the jailer saw that the lunch was still there, and he could no longer bear it. He said disdainfully: "If you don't eat, you will be the only one who suffers. From now on, I will give you a meal every three days. As long as you are not starved to death, it will be enough for me to complete my mission."

Hearing this, Yan Sikong opened his eyes and stared at the jailer coldly.

The jailer was a little scared, but then he thought, Yan Sikong is just a scholar, no matter how smart he is, he can't make trouble behind the iron bars, what is he afraid of? So when Yan Sikong walked towards him, he was not on guard.

Yan Sikong looked at the wooden plate in his hand and said, "Put it down."

The jailer snorted coldly, bent down and put down his dinner.

Yan Sikong suddenly reached out, grabbed his hair at the back of his head, and slammed his face against the iron railing.

"Ah——" the prisoner screamed, and blood immediately flowed from his nose.

Yan Sikong picked him up, turned him over, and put his other hand through the iron bars, across his neck and lifted him up, holding his Adam's apple to subdue him on the iron bars, and tightened his arms.

The jailer's face turned red, and the fear of suffocating him filled his mind. He opened his red eyes wide and tried hard to pry Yan Sikong's arm apart.

He would never have imagined that a scholar who wrote could have such great strength.

Just when he was about to die, Yan Sikong slightly loosened his grip, and he took a deep breath as if he had surfaced, his legs so weak that he could hardly stand.

Yan Sikong searched his pockets and found that he didn't have any keys, so he whispered in his ear: "I need charcoal, thick clothes and bedding. Do you understand?"

The jailer nodded repeatedly in horror.

"I swear, if you continue to neglect me after I release you, I will kill your entire family and exterminate your descendants."

"I, I don't dare."

"Swear."

"I swear..."

The jailer swore an oath with a trembling voice before Yan Sikong let him go.

The jailer covered his neck and coughed several times, looking at Yan Sikong with fear and hatred.

"Get lost." Yan Sikong said expressionlessly, "Don't think that I can't punish a mere official like you just because I stay here."

The jailer turned and ran.

Yan Si sat on the ground with an empty plate, and stuffed the already cold food into his mouth woodenly. Compared with his usual meals, these things were naturally harder to swallow, but there was nothing to complain about at this time. It was just that the sun had set, and it was getting colder here. It would be nice if he could have a glass of wine to warm himself up.

He thought self-deprecatingly that Feng Ye's wedding would be in a few days, and he wondered if he would be able to have a drink of Feng Ye's wedding wine then.

After nightfall, several prison guards came in carrying charcoal braziers, followed by others carrying new winter quilts and clothes, and even bringing commonly used items such as cups, bowls, paper and pens.

It was obvious at first glance that these were not sent by the jailer. Even if the jailer really kept his promise, he would not give these expensive things to the prisoners.

The door of the cell was opened, and several prison guards silently arranged things for him one by one. The cell was soon brand new.

Yan Sikong watched him silently from the side. He didn't feel embarrassed when they didn't say anything.

After all the jailers had left, the leader was left. He walked to Yan Sikong, bowed slightly, and whispered, "General Que asked me to tell Lord Yan that he will definitely take back the iron rod and clear your name."

Yan Sikong was touched, and said, "Tell him that Tiezhangzi was only doing the job for money, and the one who framed me was Yuan Shaoxu. It is possible that he had an affair with Chen Yi."

"I will report it truthfully, word for word." The jailer was about to leave.

Yan Sikong grabbed him and asked, "What happened to my servant?"

"Don't worry, Lord Yan. General Que has been entrusted to someone to take care of him."

Yan Sikong then felt a little relieved, and the jailer hurried away.

In fact, he didn't have much hope that Yuan Nanyu could find out the truth.

If Yuan Nanyu believed what Yuan Shaoxu said, then he was Yan Sikong. How could he believe that Yuan Shaoxu framed his "own brother"? If Yuan Nanyu did not believe what Yuan Shaoxu said, then he was Yuan Nanyu. Yuan Shaoxu was his own brother. How could he treat his own brother?

Therefore, no matter whether Yuan Nanyu could remember the past or not, he was caught between himself and Yuan Shaoxu and was in a dilemma.

In addition, Feng Ye's attitude towards him, believing in his innocence from the bottom of his heart and sending these things to him, he was very grateful.

Even though his Yu'er doesn't remember anything, he still wants to be nice to him. Maybe it's instinct.

With the charcoal fire and warm bedding, Yan Sikong finally had a good sleep.

——

For Yan Sikong, those days in prison were the longest they had ever been.

Sometimes he was in a daze, and sometimes he was lucid. What he couldn't understand one moment he figured out the next, but then he changed his mind and began to doubt again. He kept doubting what he believed in the past, and he counted down the days in this repetitive torture.

Finally, Feng Ye's wedding took place.

The day before the wedding, even though he was in the dungeon, Yan Sikong could hear the sound of fireworks going off one after another in the city. It was so lively. Today was the wedding day. Princess Yunlong had already arrived in Taiyuan, and the bride and groom had not yet met. The wedding would be tomorrow, and it should be even more festive and lively.

Yan Sikong guessed that Feng Ye had already planned to get married, and he might have even chosen his in-laws. It was not important who he married, but the in-laws could give him strong support and expand the Feng family. He himself had married a wife, and he never dared to ask Feng Ye to remain a virgin for him. He felt ashamed even thinking about it. It was just that Feng Ye pretended to be affectionate and acted like he would marry no one else in his life, which moved him deeply and made him work harder. Now thinking about it, it was really disgusting.

Yan Sikong had nothing to do, so he wrote a congratulatory letter to Feng Ye in prison, accompanied by the sound of fireworks set off for Feng Ye's wedding. The words were so beautiful and gorgeous that even he couldn't help but admire them. He had nothing to give Feng Ye. In the past, his calligraphy was worth some money, but now his reputation was ruined. Even if he took it out, it would only be spit on by others.

Scholars value their reputation the most. If someone else had a notoriety like him, he would have committed suicide out of shame. It is better for him to give it up early, at least he doesn't have to suffer from it.

After finishing writing, he spread it out in front of him, read it carefully several times, and was very satisfied.

Then he stood up and walked to the charcoal brazier, threw the blessing into the brazier, and watched without blinking as the thin white paper was devoured by the flames.

Suddenly, there were footsteps behind me.

Yan Sikong's heart skipped a beat. For some reason, he felt that the person coming was Feng Ye.

He turned around stiffly and the person standing outside the iron fence and looking at him from afar was Feng Ye, who was alone with a basket in his hands.

Yan Sikong stirred the charcoal fire, hoping to burn the blessing quickly.

Feng Ye narrowed his eyes, opened the cell door, took a step forward, and snatched the half-burned blessing from the charcoal brazier. He frowned and looked at the words on it, "What is this?"

Yan Sikong stepped aside and said coldly: "What a pity, it's not my letter of treason." He smelled the smell of alcohol on Feng Ye. Feng Ye didn't like drinking in the past, but now he drinks every few days unless it's wartime.

"What on earth is it?"

"It's a wedding speech for you. Since I can't give it to you, I'll burn it for you."

"Are you cursing me to death?" Feng Ye looked at Yan Sikong gloomily.

"Everyone is going to die eventually, so why worry about it?"

Feng Ye stuffed the blessing into his arms: "Unfortunately, my destiny has not yet ended. I am destined to live a long, long time. I accept this blessing."

Yan Sikong stood aside and said nothing more.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" Feng Ye put the basket in his hand on the table.

"casual."

"I have never shown mercy to traitors. Do you remember what happened to the collaborator I caught last time?"

"Dismembered by five horses." Yan Sikong said expressionlessly.

Feng Ye showed a cruel smile: "I won't kill you, because you are still useful, but Ali is different. He helped you to collude with the enemy, and he will be dealt with according to military law."

Yan Sikong raised his head and said harshly, "I told you not to touch him."

"If you want to save his life, do as I say." Feng Ye looked at him with no warmth in his eyes, even worse than a stranger.

Yan Sikong looked at Feng Ye deeply: "Feng Ye, do whatever you want. I, Yan Sikong, have been through a lot, so there is no need to waste words."

Feng Ye lifted the cloth covering the basket, revealing two jugs of wine and a red cloth.

Yan Sikong took a glance and felt suspicious.

Feng Ye grabbed the cloth handkerchief and threw it into his arms: "Put it on."

Yan Sikong's hands were shaking slightly. He spread out the cloth and found that it was clearly a wedding scarf.