Chapter 84: “Wang Bisheng.”

Chapter 84 "The King Will Triumph."

Jiang Congyan's thoughts were hazy, her mind stuck on one thought—what on earth was drawn in that booklet?!

The more she trembled uncontrollably, the more excited the man became. Even when tears were forced from her eyes, he refused to stop. At her most overwhelmed, she even heard herself let out an unprecedented, delicate tone from her throat—like spun sugar or pulled taffy, sticky and sweet. Utterly embarrassed and resentful of this brute, she bit down hard on his shoulder.

Instead of resisting, the man let his muscles go slack to let her sink her teeth in.

Though the earlier restraint had been agonizing, the payoff was sweet—more delicious than any time before, making him wish he could lose himself in it forever.

Especially seeing her tear-streaked but still trembling with desire—it made him crazy for her.

On a clear summer night, the moon was bright and the stars few. Insects chirped tirelessly in the grass, and the night breeze carried a refreshing coolness, lulling people into peaceful sleep.

Yet inside the tent, a couple was still going at it.

"...Just give me one more."

"No." The girl's voice was hoarse.

Having just tasted pleasure, the man wasn’t about to quit and continued to pester her.

Jiang Congyan's limbs were jelly, completely spent—but unlike the exhaustion from before.

The man spoke again, "At dawn, I ride off to war. I won’t be able to touch you for at least a month. Just give me one more..."

Jiang Congyan lifted her eyelids, her eyes still rimmed with lingering tears, and snapped, "You know what’s at stake tomorrow, yet you still torment me like this. I truly have no strength left. We’ll be up late as it is, and now we have to rise early. If you keep this up, I won’t be able to send you off tomorrow."

The man fell silent.

Naturally, he wanted her to send him off. So many Xianbei warriors would have their families present—especially Tuoba Wuxi, who had not only his wife but also his son and sister. Three people for him, while he only had one wife.

If no one came to see him off, Tuoba Wuxi would surely gloat.

Ah!

"Why didn’t you show me this little treasure earlier?"

Jiang Congyan: "..."

The man looked at her, his eyes unusually pitiful. He didn’t know whether to be happy or frustrated now. Had he not seen the book, he would have longed for her over the next month or two—but not to this extent, where he was already aching before leaving.

It was like having a plate of delicious meat placed before him, only to be allowed a single taste before it was taken away. How was a man supposed to take that?

He truly hated himself for not discovering this little treasure sooner, wasting so much time.

He even had the thought—why not just take her along?

Seeing the man’s eyes gleam dangerously, Jiang Congyan knew he was up to no good. She raised her sore, weak arms to push him away. "Let’s wash up and sleep early."

Tuo Baxiao stared at her for a long time, his narrow, jade-green phoenix eyes gleaming like a wolf lurking in the dark, making her skin prickle.

In the end, the man relented.

After a hasty cleanup, Jiang Congyan fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. Tuo Baxiao held her close, pressing fierce kisses to her still-flushed cheeks before finally closing his eyes.

The moon still hung in the sky, but the palace grounds blazed with torchlight—especially the distant military camp, which was a hive of activity. Large numbers of men and horses gathered in one direction, hooves pounding, dust flying. Oxcarts loaded with provisions snaked into long columns.

By the time the first pale thread of dawn broke on the horizon, the faint light revealed vast black banners rippling like storm clouds in the morning wind. Warhorses stood sturdy, soldiers robust—enough to make any enemy’s blood run cold.

Su Li, Duan Muqi, Jie Nigui, and others had long led their respective troops to form ranks in the south. Tuoba Wuxi had also risen early, with Qiu Liju helping him don his armor while gently offering words of caution.

This man’s temperament was truly not the least bit endearing, but he was her husband and the father of her child. She wished for him to remain safe and sound—this life they had now was good enough.

"Stop provoking the king," Qiu Liju hesitated but continued, "especially on the battlefield. Otherwise, if the enemy catches you off guard, it could be dangerous."

Tuoba Wuxi snorted disdainfully. "I know what I’m doing."

As for Tuo Baxiao, if there was a chance to see him humiliated, he wouldn’t pass it up.

He was the most noble prince of the Xianbei—his mother was the Khatun, of exalted lineage. Tuo Baxiao was merely a half-blood born to a Han slave, yet in the end, he stole the throne. If not for Wudati Hou’s surprise attack on the Xianbei back then, he would have surely led his warriors to kill Tuo Baxiao.

Seeing that he hadn’t taken her words to heart at all, Qiu Liju gave his arm an angry smack.

Lan Zhu had also risen early, picking her way through the flickering torchlight. She stood outside Tuoba Wuxi’s tent but did not enter.

Her brother was probably still talking to Qiu Liju. She waited quietly.

Sometimes she couldn’t stand her brother’s bossy and unreasonable nature, but he was her brother. With Mohe and Amudun gone, he was her only family left.

War was a dangerous affair—may the Sky God watch over her brother.

Once Tuoba Wuxi finished speaking with Qiu Liju, he pushed aside the tent flap and strode out, pausing briefly at the sight of Lan Zhu at the entrance. He said nothing.

Lan Zhu took two steps forward. "Come back safe."

Tuoba Wuxi turned his face away. "Obviously. I’ll bring back a victory too!"

...

Jiang Congyan’s sleeping quarters.

The far-off drums and horns had just sounded when the man on the bed opened his eyes—or rather, he’d hardly slept at all.

The tent was dark as pitch. He held the woman in his arms, running his hands over her soft skin.

She was still deep in slumber, her breathing slow and even.

Tuo Baxiao held her like this for a while, but as time grew short, he finally rose. Rarely this thoughtful, his movements were light, barely making a sound.

In the wash area, he found a copper basin placed on the washstand. He casually poured some cold water into it, scooped it up, and splashed it onto his face. The cold splash cleared his head.

After washing up, he turned back.

He had originally intended to have her help him into his armor, but seeing her sleep so soundly, he didn’t have the heart to wake her. Forget it—he’d suit up alone and let her rest a little longer.

Just as he thought this, the woman on the bed opened her eyes.

"Tuo Baxiao?" A groggy whisper, half-questioning.

She was still dazed, just sensing someone near the bed.

Exhausted from the night before and having slept less than two hours, her thoughts were still sleep-muddled, but something nagged at her, pulling her awake.

Now that she was up, Tuo Baxiao didn’t stall. He grunted in reply, turned, and lit the candle.

A warm glow filled the bedroom.

Jiang Congyan propped herself up, her arms and legs still a bit weak, but thankfully, she wasn’t in much pain.

She pushed back the covers and stepped out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the carpet. The early morning air was chilly, so she draped a soft cyan silk robe over her shoulders. Noticing the damp strands at Tuo Baxiao’s temples, she realized he had already washed.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were sleeping soundly.”

If he knew she was tired, why hadn’t he gone easier on her?

She didn’t bother dwelling on it and reached for the clothes nearby.

A wife dressing her husband was customary, but since their marriage, she had rarely done so. For one, he usually rose early, often before she woke, and for another, Tuo Baxiao didn’t particularly care for it—he much preferred her undressing him, though the lady was unwilling.

Since Tuo Baxiao never insisted, Jiang Congyan was content to leave it be. In fact, more often than not, he was the one helping her dress.

But this time was different. She’d promised to help him suit up before his departure for battle.

The man was too tall, so Jiang Congyan pressed a hand to his chest, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. She then untied his sleeping robe and helped him into the armor padding.

This was the first time she had ever attended to him like this. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, excitement nearly bursting out, his breathing growing rough.

Once the upper garment was on, the man stood.

Jiang Congyan’s face flushed when she noticed the prominent strain in his pants. She gave him a scolding look, to which he responded with an innocent yet fervent gaze.

She nearly gave up halfway, but his eyes remained fixed on her, and this was something she had agreed to do. Steeling herself, she reached out with trembling fingers, undid the tie at his waist, and handed him another pair of trousers. “Put these on yourself.”

Pants were tricky to help with, so Tuo Baxiao didn’t press her. He slid his thick legs into them and pulled them up, only to grab her hand again, insisting she fasten them for him.

No words were spoken. The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of fabric and the distant echoes of war drums and horns.

The noise outside made the room feel even quieter, making their breaths all the more audible.

A strange tension hung between them.

The armor had been delivered to the bedroom in advance, mounted on a wooden stand.

Said to be forged from meteorite iron, it was impervious to ordinary arrows.

The plates were pitch black, glinting with a cold, deadly shine. This black armor had accompanied Tuo Baxiao through countless battles, soaked in enemy blood. Even after thorough cleaning, it still smelled faintly of iron.

Weighing sixty pounds, the armor was far too heavy for Jiang Congyan to lift. Tuo Baxiao donned it himself, only allowing her to fasten the buckles.

Once fully clad, Jiang Congyan took a step back. The already formidable man now appeared even more imposing, his presence radiating pure dominance and lethal intent.

Jiang Congyan stared for a moment before suddenly stepping forward again. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest in an embrace.

“My king will surely triumph.”

Just as she moved to pull away, the man abruptly seized her chin, his handsome face closing in.