Chapter 93: “Yanyan, I Was Wrong.”…

Chapter 93 "A Fei, I was wrong..."

After resting for three or four hours, Tuo Baxiao had fully recovered, the exhaustion of the past days completely gone. Yet, he still longed for her, wanting to hold her soft, delicate body again. Just as he returned to the room and was about to climb back into bed, A Fei came to inform him that a noble was requesting an audience with the king outside.

"The noble said it's urgent," A Fei added.

With his pleasant moment interrupted, Tuo Baxiao had no choice but to suppress his displeasure and head to the command tent.

The royal court had piled up many matters awaiting his attention. He had arrived at the court yesterday afternoon, and now, a full day had passed. If he continued to neglect official duties, it would be inexcusable.

But once he stepped out, people seized the opportunity, and matters came rolling in one after another.

More and more visitors gathered in the king’s tent. After discussing several issues, Ke Diyanxun suddenly spoke gravely, "My king, our spies in the Xiongnu court have sent word that Liang State once dispatched envoys in secret to bribe their ministers, urging the Chanyu to launch a surprise attack on us while you were campaigning against the Jie."

"The Han are deceitful. You insisted on forming an alliance with Liang State, yet they have now betrayed the Xianbei. Should we simply endure this betrayal? If we don’t make them pay, others will no longer fear the Xianbei. How then can we dominate the steppe?"

As soon as Ke Diyanxun finished speaking, all the Xianbei people in the tent were filled with righteous fury, their fists clenched so tightly their knuckles cracked. Did Liang State still regard the Xianbei as the pushover tribe of the past? Ha! The Xianbei now had mighty warriors and powerful steeds. Provoking them would come at a bloody cost.

"My king, let us march into Liang State!"

"Exactly! Let the Liang people see that our Xianbei warriors are not to be betrayed so casually."

"With the Jie already conquered, there are no obstacles in between. We can head south directly."

"I’ve heard the Emperor of Liang lives in the finest palace, drinks the best wine, and sleeps with the most beautiful women. Once we take Liang State, our king can move into their imperial palace and sleep with their [...]"

Before the man could finish, a sudden chill crept up his spine, his neck stiffening. When he looked up, he saw the king’s icy glare fixed on him.

Noticing the king’s displeasure, the others gradually quieted, though their expressions remained defiant. They puffed up like battle-ready roosters, eager for combat.

Tuo Baxiao was furious, of course, but Liang State’s betrayal wasn’t enough to make him lose his reason.

He had no loyalty to Liang State to begin with—the alliance had been purely for expediency.

At first, with the Jie still a threat, the two states coexisted peacefully. The Emperor of Liang had willingly allied with him to deter the Xiongnu. Now that circumstances had shifted, it was only natural for Liang State’s stance to change.

As for why the Xiongnu ultimately hadn’t been persuaded to attack, it was because his campaign had been lightning-fast. In just over a month, he had swept through the entire Jie territory with crushing force, avoiding a drawn-out war for the Xianbei. Had the war dragged on, or had he failed to conquer the Jie by winter, the Xiongnu would undoubtedly have seized the chance to strike, leaving him caught between two fronts.

For this very reason, he wouldn’t recklessly march south without thorough preparation.

Many dismissed Liang State as weak, but no matter how weak, they still had a vast population. The Central Plains were littered with treacherous terrain and numerous strategic passes—nothing like the swift conquest of the Jie. Even with his years of battlefield confidence, knowing no rival could stand against him, he couldn’t predict how long a war with Liang State would last. And if the Xiongnu took advantage of the chaos to invade...

Most importantly, Liangzhou still had a hundred thousand seasoned troops. And she was the granddaughter of the Marquis of Liangzhou. From her words, it was clear she was close to her mother’s kin.

"Enough. I know what I’m doing regarding Liang State. This year, I will not march south," Tuo Baxiao declared firmly.

He had always been decisive among his people. Once his mind was made up, everyone knew further persuasion would be futile. Swallowing their anger, they moved on to discuss other matters.

The Xianbei people existed as an alliance of tribes, somewhat like an overlord with subordinate tribes. Other tribes had to obey the royal court’s military commands, align politically, and pay tribute in livestock—cattle, sheep, and horses every autumn.

Tuo Baxiao had established border trade agreements with Liang State. He needed more livestock, furs, and horses to exchange for cloth, salt, tea, and iron.

The demand for warhorses alone reached ten thousand, not to mention the vast numbers of cattle and sheep. Of course, the amount of raw iron he required was equally enormous. Once forged, it could arm every Xianbei rider with a spare blade.

Sharper weapons meant greater combat strength—especially for the fierce Xianbei cavalry. It would be like adding wings to a tiger, making them even more unstoppable on the steppe.

The exact quotas of livestock each tribe had to contribute still needed careful negotiation. Naturally, every tribe had its own tricks to shirk their dues and scrambled for excuses.

Tuo Baxiao, however, knew each tribe’s situation inside out. Ignoring their arguments, he swiftly assigned the tasks. The coordination, as usual, fell to Ke Diyanxun—these matters had always been under his charge.

Being busy made the morning fly by.

As dusk fell, Tuo Baxiao finally dismissed everyone impatiently and hurried back to Jiang Congyan’s tent.

When she didn't appear, he found it odd—could she really be this tired after one day?

He lifted the tent flap and stepped into the bedroom, only to find A Fei standing by the bed, wiping Jiang Congyan’s forehead with a cloth.

“What’s going on?”

He strode into the room as the bright flames from several bronze lamps illuminated the figure of the young woman on the bed. Tuo Baxiao saw an unnatural flush on her face, while her lips were pale and dry.

She was clearly ill.

She had been fine when he left.

Hearing the Prince of Mobei’s voice, A Fei quickly turned and bowed. “I came during the late afternoon Shen hour to check if the lady had woken, only to find her cheeks flushed. When I touched her forehead, her skin was scorching hot—she must have developed a fever at some point. I’ve already summoned a female physician from Master Zhang’s practice to examine her. The assistant said she caught a chill at night, and since the lady’s constitution is weak, it led to this fever. Medicine has been prepared and is brewing now. Once she takes it and I continue wiping her down to lower the fever, she should recover by morning if all goes well.”

Tuo Baxiao’s stern features stiffened at her words, his emerald eyes filled with regret and remorse.

Caught a chill at night.

Yesterday, he had placed her in the bathtub, and when he pulled her out, she had said she was cold. He'd quickly stripped off her wet clothes, yet she had still fallen ill. No—he suddenly remembered that during the night, because the bed had shifted, he had carried her to the table.

Autumn in the northern lands was already cool, and the nights were even colder. At first, he had half-wrapped her in a thin blanket, but later, caught up in the moment, he had paid little attention. The silk blanket kept slipping away—that must have been how she caught the chill.

He hadn’t realized she was so delicate. But regretting it now was too late.

“How do you wipe her down?” He lifted the hem of his robe and sat by the bed, pressing the back of his hand to her face—indeed, it was burning.

“This…” A Fei caught the Prince of Mobei’s implication and glanced up at him hesitantly. “Perhaps it’s better if I take care of the lady.” _You don't strike me as the nurturing type._

A Fei worried that not only would he fail to tend to Jiang Congyan properly, but he might even worsen her condition. She had been perfectly fine for over a month—only for the Prince of Mobei to return and immediately make her ill.

“Speak!” Tuo Baxiao commanded coldly.

With his sharp perception, how could he not notice A Fei’s hesitation? But he couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. However, if she continued hesitating, he wouldn’t go easy on her—even if she was Jiang Congyan’s maid.

A Fei trembled, feeling an oppressive presence that stole her breath.

Not daring to provoke the Prince of Mobei further, she carefully explained how to care for the lady before retreating.

Tuo Baxiao picked up the damp cloth, wrung it out, and began gently wiping Jiang Congyan’s cheeks, the back of her neck, and her palms.

Having attended to her a few times before, his movements were no longer as rough—though still somewhat inexperienced, his touch was surprisingly tender, carrying careful attention.

A fine sheen of sweat continuously formed on her forehead, dampening the delicate hairs at her hairline, which clung limply to her flushed skin. She was damp all over with feverish heat, and her breath came hotter than normal.

Seeing her lips dry and her sweating profusely, Tuo Baxiao decided to give her some water. But she was unconscious and wouldn’t swallow on her own. After a moment’s thought, he took a large sip from the bowl himself, pressed his lips to hers, and slowly fed it to her.

Had she been conscious, she would never have allowed this. But now, unaware, the man had no reservations.

After giving her a full bowl of water, the girl’s lips finally regained their moisture.

Perhaps due to discomfort, her brows remained furrowed, her eyes tightly shut, long lashes fluttering faintly. Her delicate skin, flushed with fever, had taken on a feverish glow, making her appear both pitiful and heartbreakingly delicate.

Tuo Baxiao stayed by the bedside, continuously wiping her down to lower her fever and giving her water.

After half an hour, A Fei returned with the medicine.

The freshly brewed herbal decoction was steaming hot, with a tongue depressor placed on the tray to help pry open the patient's mouth for feeding.

Tuo Baxiao took a glance and told A Fei to set the tray down and leave.

His domineering nature tolerated no disobedience, and A Fei knew the Prince of Mobei didn’t give a damn about maids like her, only tolerating them out of respect for Jiang Congyan. But with the lady unconscious and unable to intervene, she had no choice but to bite her tongue and leave.

Once the medicine had cooled to a suitable temperature, Tuo Baxiao followed the same method as before, carefully getting her to drink the medicine just like he had done earlier with water.

Another half-hour passed, and whether due to the medicine taking effect or constant cooling helping too, Jiang Congyan’s fever slowly went down, and her sweating lessened.

Only then did some of the tension leave him.

He knew she was frail. Throughout their journey, he had observed how particular she was about daily comforts, and her maids treated her like a fragile porcelain doll. Precisely because she had been so well cared for and hadn’t fallen ill these past two months, he had let his guard down slightly.

Regret was inevitable, but beyond regret, he felt other mixed emotions.

Tuo Baxiao kept sitting by the bed, watching her. A Fei entered once to replace the candles.

By midnight, Jiang Congyan finally awoke.

Her eyelids weighed a ton, trembling for a long while before she managed to open them. Her vision was blurred, the world before her hazy, with only faint light discernible.

Her mind was moving in slow motion, thoughts lagging behind. It took a long while before she noticed how sore she felt.

At first, she didn’t even realize she was ill, thinking the soreness was just from the man.

Sensing a tall figure beside her, she weakly turned her head to look.

The man gazed at her silently, his eyes dark and impossible to read in the dim light.

There was something odd about him.

"What’s wrong?" The moment she spoke, her voice came out rough and dry, her throat burning as if scraped by tiny blades.

"You’re sick."

Jiang Congyan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

She lifted a limp hand to touch her cheek, but her hand was just as hot, making it hard to tell any difference. Still, she seemed warmer than usual.

Though her health was frail, thanks to Ruo Lan’s attentive care, she had fallen ill infrequently over the past year or two. Even during their journey from Chang’an to the Xianbei lands, she had only suffered a minor ailment that resolved within a day or two.

Perhaps her illness dulled her wits, but it took her a long while to realize—who else was to blame for her sickness but this bastard?

Her expression darkened instantly, and she gave him the cold shoulder.

Last night, after discovering the bed was loose, the man had indeed stopped using it, but he had moved her to a small table, then later to the couch. What happened after that, she couldn’t recall.

The blanket had slipped off multiple times, and in her exhausted state, she hadn’t bothered to retrieve it. That must have been when she caught a chill.

She didn’t know how that instruction book could be so effective—his techniques had grown increasingly varied, leaving her unable to handle it.

Tuo Baxiao wrung out the cloth again and continued cooling her with the cloth. Jiang Congyan, still angry, didn’t want him in her face.

"Get out," she muttered sullenly.

Tuo Baxiao: "..."

The man fell silent for a moment. Then Jiang Congyan heard the sound of the cloth being tossed back into the basin, followed by the shift of his weight as he stood. The bed creaked slightly, and she thought he was leaving—only to be abruptly lifted, her upper body pulled into a broad, solid embrace.

"Yanyan, I was wrong."