Die Kampfsportwelt ist ein Sumpf

Kapitel 79

He Lu still looked innocent. "Feng, why aren't you answering? I want to ask you what it feels like to kiss me?"

"What a taste! It's definitely not as good as mutton!" Wei Zijun stomped her foot angrily and stormed out the door.

Volume Two, Chapter Sixty-Nine: Succession of the Throne

Ashina Yugu had fallen ill and was unable to get up. The Khatun and concubines in the harem were very worried and kept pacing back and forth in the tent.

Those tired eyes looked longingly at Wei Zijun, who stood beside him, past the women surrounding him.

She could see the longing in their eyes, but she couldn't approach them. He was their husband, and she was the object of their jealousy.

Finally, Ashina Yugu followed his heart and dismissed the noisy women. He just wanted to be alone with his wind for a while.

"Wind, come here!" A trembling hand reached out, beckoning to the one she longed for.

These days, he no longer let him sleep with him, for he knew his days were numbered and feared that his sickly body would bring him foulness. His wind was always so pure and noble; how could he let him see his filthy and ugly state, where he ate, drank, and relieved himself on the bed? He wanted to leave a good impression on his wind, and although his longing grew deeper each day, the more he longed, the more he endured, trying his best to show him his best side.

“Feng…” Ashina Yugu stroked Wei Zijun’s hand for a long time, then two lines of clear tears flowed down his face. “Feng, I can’t bear to part with you.”

"Feng!" He stretched out his thin, bony hand, intending to touch Wei Zijun's face. She quickly bent down, allowing his hand to easily reach her face.

Ashina Yugu stroked her face, gazing at her for a long time, "Feng, hug me." His days were numbered, and he no longer tried to suppress his feelings.

Upon hearing this, Wei Zijun leaned down and buried her head in Ashina Yugu's shoulder and neck, gently stroking his head with her hand.

Two arms encircled Wei Zijun's neck. After a long while, the person beneath him began to breathe evenly, and he fell into a deep sleep again.

She gently removed the arms that were wrapped around her neck, stood up, and sniffed, her nose stinging. How could this person have given her such affection, one that she couldn't bear to let go of, that made her respond with tenderness, yet she couldn't give too much in return? It always made her feel as if she owed him a meal.

The cold wind outside the tent dispersed the stinging in my eyes. A sudden sense of melancholy made me feel as if I didn't know where I was or what the purpose of my life was.

Is coming into this world any different? Compared to the other world, what is its meaning? She thought she would come and go without any attachments, yet she must again experience the pain of death? Is all of this ultimately just another struggle in the boundless, endless sea of suffering in this mortal world…?

Unable to bear the thought of death, she knew full well that someone was about to leave her. That person kept calling her name—Feng—a call that caused a dull ache in her heart. Ignoring his objections, she sent for a renowned physician from Da Yu, but in the end, the illness was too severe to be cured.

"Sigh—" Wei Zijun sighed and stepped on the snow on the ground.

It should be Chinese New Year by now, a festival she's looked forward to since childhood, a time she only lost that anticipation after her parents passed away. Why is she suddenly longing for it again? Perhaps the joy the festival left her is stirring within her. But how can she possibly be happy in the present moment?

They don't celebrate the Spring Festival here; their Spring Festival is Nowruz, which falls around the spring equinox each year.

It's almost here. Wei Zijun shook her head. Why was she looking forward to a holiday like a child? Perhaps it was because these dull and oppressive days had been going on for too long.

Footsteps approached from ahead, and Wei Zijun looked up to see He Lu.

He Lu noticed a rare hint of sadness in the raised eyes, paused for a moment, and unusually, refrained from speaking sarcastically, instead asking softly, "Is the Khan in bad shape?"

Wei Zijun nodded. "I just went to sleep."

The two remained silent for a long time.

After standing for a while, Wei Zijun walked forward with her two headscarves on her back.

"Where are you going?" He Lu blurted out, then immediately realized he shouldn't have asked.

"Just taking a stroll." Wei Zijun turned around, a wicked smile suddenly returning to her face. "What, want to come along?"

He Lu snorted and followed anyway.

The two strolled slowly across the snow, bathed in sunlight. It was the first time they had ever walked side by side, and the first time they had ever felt so at peace.

"Where are your two brothers?" A hint of mockery flashed in He Lu's eyes.

“Gambling!” Wei Zijun smiled and turned her head.

That smile made He Lu momentarily lose his composure. When he came to his senses, he pursed his lips and said, "I thought we'd be inseparable all the time, but I didn't expect this! Sigh—" Recalling the events of that day, a sly look appeared on He Lu's face.

Wei Zijun smiled helplessly, "Here we go again!"

It was those two sentences of his that made those two men refuse to speak to her anymore. Even knowing she hated gambling, they went to gamble with the soldiers every day. The Turks were addicted to gambling, especially during the cold winter when there was no war and nothing to do.

But perhaps it's better for them to distance themselves from her. She doesn't want to be tainted by the love of this other world, nor does she want to bear too many emotions she can't handle. She only wants to love them like family. She believes that the only people in this world who love you the most are your parents, and no love can surpass parental love or be greater than familial affection. In her eyes, romantic love is insignificant.

Therefore, all she wanted to do was give them the love of family.

He Lu glanced at her, snorted, and said nothing more.

"What is Nowruz like?" Wei Zijun suddenly asked.

"Hmm?" He Lu didn't expect her to ask this question so suddenly. He paused for a moment and replied, "This festival is the New Year Festival. We sing and dance from night until dawn, then we bathe and cleanse ourselves, change into spring clothes, and eat Nowruz rice."

"That's it? So simple!" Wei Zijun was clearly disappointed; it was nothing like the Spring Festival.

"It's easier said than done. You love Nowruz, don't you? Last year at this time, you were singing and dancing with a bunch of girls!"

"Me!? Surrounded by a bunch of girls!?" Wei Zijun was a little embarrassed. She must have had a few too many drinks. As the saying goes, alcohol emboldens even a bear, otherwise she would never have done something so tasteless.

"Yes, I thought you were in love and had changed your taste, but I didn't expect..." Before Hua Mei could finish speaking, she was interrupted by a sudden shout.

"Left Wise King! Yabghu! Quick...quick..." A servant rushed to the two, "Khan...he...he's dying..."

Both of them were startled.

"Have the other Mei Lu been notified?" She was just sleeping soundly a moment ago, how could this happen...? My heart sank with a "thud," then pounded wildly, as if someone had ripped it open. Is it finally coming?

"We've already notified them; the Khan wants to see you." Fu Li quickly followed the two who were hurrying towards the tent.

When she entered the tent, a group of people were already kneeling on the ground. Wei Zijun looked up and saw the bright red spots on Ashina Yugu's chest, which made her heart tremble.

"Cough cough... cough cough cough..." Ashina Yugu coughed as if he were about to cough up his heart. His weak body seemed to have only this cough as a sign of strength.

"Khan... Waaah..." The Khatun beside him cried as he wiped the bloodstains from his chest.

His lifeless eyes stared blankly, as if he were unconscious. When he caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye, his pupils suddenly contracted.

"Wind..." came the hoarse voice from inside the house, desperately calling out the longing in his heart.

"Khan—" Wei Zijun stepped forward and grasped the trembling hand that reached out to her.

“Well…all the ministers are here…Jielifa…Yan Hongda…” The hoarse voice rang out again.

"Your Majesty, we are here!" The two knelt forward.

"You two... draft an edict..." he continued, panting, "proclaiming to the whole country... I, Yipi Dulu Khan... pass on... the throne... to... cough cough..." Another bout of coughing followed.

"..."

Everyone held their breath, tense, and strained their ears to hear what name would be uttered.

"...Cough cough..." After a series of coughs, he felt much better, but also much weaker. Then, he uttered a name that no one had expected.

"Wei Feng...passes the throne to...the Left Wise King...Wei...Feng..." As if having accomplished a great mission, he finished speaking with all his might, then turned his head away and said no more.

"Khan..." Everyone, including Wei Zijun, exclaimed in surprise.

Everyone had left, but that weak hand still clung tightly to Wei Zijun. "Feng... help me up..."

Looking at the person reclining in her arms, Wei Zijun felt a pang in her heart. She couldn't bear to utter any more words of refusal. No one could bear to see a person on the verge of death.

"Wind... protect the Western Turks... help me... hold on..."

"Um!"

"Wind...you...swear!"

"Wei Feng swore to the Khan that as long as Wei Feng is alive, the Western Turkic Khaganate will exist!"

The person in his arms smiled contentedly and buried their head in Wei Zijun's chest. "I... am content... to die in your arms... how wonderful..."

"The Khan will not die... he will not..." Wei Zijun choked up, and although she tried her best to hold back, tears streamed down her face.

"Wind...you cried for me...don't cry...let me...look at you again..." His lingering gaze was fixed on the face in front of him, wanting to imprint that face in his heart, so that he would recognize it even in the next life, even in all lifetimes.

"Wind...I...I..." In the end, he couldn't say those three words, "...I...can't bear to part with you..."

Looking into his eyes, at the unspoken longing in his expression, Wei Zijun felt a pang of pain in her heart. She could give him nothing, absolutely nothing. With a soft sigh, she stroked his forehead, lowered her head, and pressed her lips to his brow.

The person in my arms trembled slightly and slowly closed their eyes.

Tears fell onto his cold face.

After a long silence, neither she nor the person in her arms moved, their foreheads pressed together. Finally, Wei Zijun moved her lips away and softly called, "Khan..."

There was no answer. "Khan..." she called again, but still no response. Wei Zijun panicked and gently shook the person in her arms, only to realize that the person in her arms was still lifeless.

"Khan..." People knelt outside the tent, wailing.

Wei Zijun wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes; she was not used to such a scene of wailing.

The sadness in her heart was no less than that of everyone else who was crying uncontrollably. After spending so many days together, even strangers would develop feelings for each other, let alone someone who had been so good to her, so dependent on her, so devoted to her, indulging her, and giving her the best of everything.

Standing not far away, Helu coldly observed everything. Ashina Yugu, his clan uncle, hadn't passed the Khanate to him, especially not to his own brother Teqin, but to an outsider. It wasn't that he was resentful; he knew his own abilities. But… would he remain loyal to the Western Turks? He too had once desperately longed for that position, and now it had fallen into someone else's hands. Why was he so calm? Without resentment? Perhaps that person held a different meaning for him now? Was that why?

"Hmph! Look at him, crying so hypocritically, but who knows how happy he is inside!" Axi Jieni Shujijin glared at Wei Zijun and said angrily to Helu.

"Yehu, look at his face. If we force him to lick his cheeks... let's see if he can still use that face to seduce people." Ashijini Shujijin naturally believed that Wei Zijun obtained the Khanate by virtue of Ashina Yugu's favor, and he was naturally very dissatisfied and felt very resentful for Helu.

"Stop talking nonsense!" He forced him to lick his face! He Lu's heart ached for no reason.

Countless people knelt outside the tent, wailing and weeping. Horses and sheep were slaughtered, and horses circled the tent, their blades used to let blood and tears flow together.

Wei Zijun arrived at the tent where the corpses lay, and sighed at the sight of the blood and tears, "Sigh! It's better to do it voluntarily!"

“What do you mean by that, Left Wise King? The smearing of the face is the most sacred ritual for expressing grief in our Turkic people. How can it be done casually!” As for those who are not convinced, he will support whatever they say. And those who are not convinced are not just Asijie Nishujin.

"If a person is in pain, the blood will bleed in their heart; if there is no pain, what does it matter if blood flows all over their face?" Wei Zijun said calmly, not looking at his indignant face.

Ah Xijie glanced at Wei Zijun with a knowing look, then strode forward, knelt before the tent, drew his scimitar, and slashed his forehead three times before bursting into tears.

Seeing this, He Lu reluctantly walked to the front of the tent, about to raise his knife to smear his face, when Wei Zijun stepped forward and grabbed his hand holding the knife. "Such a face, it's better not to ruin it." He Lu stared blankly at Wei Zijun, a strange emotion flashing in his eyes.

"The Left Wise King is not trying to absolve himself of responsibility, is he? The Left Wise King, you have not yet paid your respects. The Left Wise King is the Khan's most beloved person, and you should express your condolences even more. Paying your respects is inevitable. Please." Axi Jieni Shusijin presented the curved sword to Wei Zijun.

Wei Zijun was taken aback. He wanted to force her to spit blood on her face? Of course, she knew their customs. During the reign of Emperor Wen of Sui, the Byzantine envoy Valentine was forced to spit blood on his face as a sign of mourning. During the reign of Emperor Wei of Sui, Princess Ningguo of the Tang Dynasty was forced to spit blood on her face while serving as a Uyghur. Even a woman's face was not spared by custom, let alone someone like her who was not entirely convinced by their customs. If she refused, she would be considered disrespectful and insincere, and there would be accusations such as wasting the Khan's sincere affection for her. Did he really want her to cut her face until it bled?

No, even if she cuts it off, their attitude towards her won't change at all. On the contrary, they will look down on her even more because of her easy compliance. Of course, she can't do as they want.

Thinking of this, Wei Zijun sneered, "Axijie Nishujijin! You seem to have forgotten your place! With the Khan gone, I am the Khan of the Western Turks. How dare you, a mere subject, speak so disrespectfully to me!" Wei Zijun's voice suddenly sharpened, her icy gaze piercing Axijie Nishujijin. The latter felt a chill run through his body and unconsciously took two steps back.

"Today, this is your first offense, and I, the Khan, will not pursue it. But if you speak disrespectfully again, you will be punished according to the law!" Looking at the stunned face of Ahji Nishu Sijin, Wei Zijun sneered. Gathering his inner strength, he said coldly to the crowd, "The matter of spitting is voluntary. Those who wish to spit may do so, and those who do not wish to are innocent."

After speaking, he turned to Helu and said, "If Lord Yabghu wishes to express his condolences, please do so."

Ignoring He Lu's complicated gaze, she walked straight to the tent where the body was kept. The body would be cremated soon, and she wanted to spend more time with him.