Chapter 94: Have Some Shame.

Chapter 94: Where’s Your Dignity?

"Congyan, I messed up."

Hearing the man admit his mistake on his own, Jiang Congyan was somewhat surprised.

Given the man's arrogant and stubborn nature, getting him to apologize was no easy feat. His words now, though not particularly solemn, showed he meant it.

"I didn’t hear you clearly. Say it again," Jiang Congyan said softly. Speaking made her throat ache—all thanks to this damn man.

Tuo Baxiao paused for a beat before quickly reacting, tightening his arms around her and pulling her closer. He bent down and muttered, "I’ll say it as many times as you want."

"Congyan, I messed up."

"Congyan, I messed up. Don’t be mad. Don’t kick me out..."

Jiang Congyan: "..."

The man’s voice didn’t stop, one sentence after another, each more desperate than the last. The corner of her eye twitched—was this still the proud and domineering Prince of Mobei? He looked like a total scoundrel, and a massive one at that.

Seeing how earnestly he apologized and hearing all his pleading, her anger eased a little.

Though she wasn’t as furious anymore, she didn’t want him to get off too easy, especially after what he had done. He had gone too far, and she ought to punish him for it.

Jiang Congyan lowered her lashes and weakly raised her hand, which had barely any strength left, to push him away. "Go sleep in your tent. You’re not allowed to touch me for the next two weeks."

She had initially wanted to say a month but figured the man wouldn’t last that long, so she settled for two weeks—though even that might be too much for him.

As expected, the man frowned the moment he heard her words. He loosened his hold slightly and glared at her disapprovingly. "Two weeks?"

"Mm."

"No."

Jiang Congyan kept a cold expression and said nothing.

Tuo Baxiao gritted his teeth, as if making a big compromise. "How about seven days?"

Jiang Congyan: "..."

What was this, bargaining like a street vendor?

"Since the prince isn’t sincerely apologizing, then never mind," she said faintly, her long lashes lowering to veil her eyes.

Tuo Baxiao: "..."

He found himself utterly helpless against her. He was indeed in the wrong, and seeing her small face still flushed, her usually bright eyes drained, and her entire body weak with illness—she looked so pitiful it softened him.

"Fine. Two weeks it is," Tuo Baxiao gritted out.

Only then did Jiang Congyan lift her gaze to look at him. The man’s face was sulking. Hmph, he was the one who made her sick and miserable—serving him right to make him suffer for a few days.

"Now scram."

Tuo Baxiao’s face fell. "You only said I couldn’t touch you. You didn’t say I couldn’t sleep here."

"...Then I’m adding that rule now," Jiang Congyan decided to play dirty too.

Tuo Baxiao: "..." He stared, speechless.

Going back on your word now?

Jiang Congyan blinked at him.

They faced off for a long time, but in the end, she was too worn out and couldn't help but yawn.

"Leave, I need to sleep," she said, pushing his arm away and lying back down.

Tuo Baxiao stared at her for a moment before suddenly remembering something. "Eat something before sleeping."

It’d been over a day, and she had only drunk some water—nothing else.

He had originally planned to wait until she woke up to eat, but then she fell ill and slept until now.

If he hadn’t mentioned it, Jiang Congyan wouldn’t have even remembered. Her body ached from the fever, her head was dizzy, and she wasn’t the least bit hungry. Even the thought of food held no appeal. But she wasn’t being stubborn—she knew she should eat something, or it wouldn’t be good for her health.

Tuo Baxiao had A Fei bring in a steaming bowl of savory minced-meat porridge.

He scooped a spoonful himself and fed her. Jiang Congyan didn’t bother arguing over such trivial matters, but her appetite was truly poor—a few sips in, she was full.

He coaxed her to eat more, and she managed two more bites before suddenly feeling nauseous. She couldn’t stomach another bite.

She had taken medicine earlier, and many medicines had the side effect of suppressing appetite.

Tuo Baxiao set the bowl aside and pinched her slender arm. No wonder she was skin and bones—she ate less than a cat. How could she ever gain weight?

Once she’d eaten, she freshened up. Once everything was settled, Jiang Congyan looked at the man again, her message obvious.

"You’re really kicking me out?"

Tuo Baxiao put up a fight, but in the end, he couldn’t change her mind.

Watching him glance back every few steps, Jiang Congyan inexplicably thought of Lingxiao—it had been the same when he left that day.

Tuo Baxiao, in a sour mood, went to the royal tent alone and lay on the spacious bed, the bed beside him cold and empty.

He’d slept alone before and never thought anything of it—in fact, he had even preferred the lack of disturbance. But after marrying her, he only wanted to hold her and sleep beside her every night.

Ugh. She was too delicate. He hadn’t expected her to catch a chill so easily—he could run around shirtless in winter and be fine.

Once she recovered in a few days and had some free time, he should take her out to exercise.

...

After a good night’s sleep, she woke up the next day feeling much better.

A Fei came to help her wash up. After wiping her hands and face, Jiang Congyan said, "I want to bathe."

She’d sweated buckets the day before that her body felt sticky, even her hair damp.

"Miss, your fever just went down—you mustn’t catch another chill," A Fei said sternly.

"But I feel so uncomfortable," she pleaded pitifully.

Faced with her mistress’s gaze, A Fei’s heart softened instantly. She sighed. "Then let me give you a sponge bath."

"Mm, mm!" Jiang Congyan nodded eagerly. Even a sponge bath would be better than nothing.

When she removed half her clothes for A Fei to clean her, the maid noticed fading marks on her pale skin. But by now, A Fei no longer blushed furiously as she had at first—instead, she inwardly complained about how the Prince of Mobei always made her lady suffer.

After drying off and changing into clean clothes, Jiang Congyan felt much more refreshed.

Though her body still ached from the lingering weakness of the fever, her spirits had improved significantly.

Tuo Baxiao came by at noon and had a meal with her. The man had no shame, and she couldn’t drive him away no matter how hard she tried. He claimed her punishment only barred him from sleeping there at night—it didn’t say he couldn’t come back for meals.

Whatever.

After the meal, she still had to take her medicine. As she rested in the main hall, she asked about the border trade, and the man shared his arrangements with her.

The personnel had already been chosen, and the livestock from various tribes—cattle, sheep, and horses—were being herded on the road, sent in two batches. Along the Jie’s route, he would post troops at key towns and crossings to ensure no remnants of the Jie would dare cause trouble. He’d already been lenient enough in this battle and had made it clear—anyone who dared disrupt his plans again would face annihilation.

Overall, there were no major issues. She wasn’t as familiar with the tribes as Tuo Baxiao, so she wouldn’t interfere in matters she didn’t understand. But she had another idea. “Could we replace all the livestock from Tumochuan with sheep and keep the cattle?”

“Explain.”

“Human strength can’t compete with beasts of burden. Keeping the cattle would improve farming efficiency. Ruo Lan wrote to me that most of Tumochuan still relies on manual plowing, which is extremely inefficient—a single person can barely plow a few acres a day. Given how vast and sparsely populated our land is, we should find ways to boost productivity. In the Central Plains, oxen are commonly used for plowing, and with the right tools, they can till several times more land than humans. Since you plan to expand wheat fields in Tumochuan next year, the land to be cultivated will only increase. We should prepare early.”

Tuo Baxiao found her reasoning sound but still had doubts. “Those cattle have always been free-range. Can they be trained as plow oxen?”

Jiang Congyan: “We’ll try. You have to start somewhere. Besides, among the craftsmen, some are skilled in farming. With enough training, we can select suitable ones for plowing. Next year, we can raise more calves and tame them from a young age. Gradually, the number of plow oxen will grow.”

She had a point, so Tuo Baxiao agreed and said he’d send orders later.

As for the cattle, they would naturally be left to Ruo Lan to handle, with the hope that a batch of plow oxen could be trained by next year.

Jiang Congyan then asked about the Jie. She’d meant to ask the day she returned, but the man hadn’t given her the chance.

Tuo Baxiao first summarized the battle briefly and, unusually, praised Zhang Zheng. “...He’s a natural at siege warfare. The siege engines he built were very effective and played a major role in capturing Yanmen. I promoted him to deputy general and gave him three thousand troops. From now on, these troops are yours to command...”

Her pulse jumped. This far exceeded her expectations. She had thought securing Zhang Zheng a modest military position would be good enough, but he said they were at her command...

She searched his face. He said it offhand, like it was nothing. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he was truly thinking.

Was it trust? Or confidence?

Jiang Congyan listened as he continued, “I executed the soldiers who fought in the war. The remaining men were captured and, as you suggested, handed over to Zhang Zheng to escort to Tumochuan for farming. The first batch is already on the way... The noblewomen and children related to Wudushi were distributed among our men. The commoners were left untouched—for now, as long as they behave...”

For the defeated, this outcome was actually quite lenient. There was no indiscriminate slaughter, and the commoners could still live in peace—for now.

Tuo Baxiao was a warlord to be reckoned with. His military might awed the land, and he showed no mercy to his enemies, eliminating them without hesitation. But he wasn’t cruel by nature—he never took pleasure in killing. Compared to Wudati Hou, he was far better.

That kind of hellscape was unmatched in millennia of history.

If Tuo Baxiao didn’t die and ultimately unified the land, the ending might be slightly better.

But that was just her hopeful imagination. The rift between Han and Hu ran too deep.

No use stewing over it now. She could only take things one step at a time. She had no idea where the future would lead.

“Will the King refrain from large-scale campaigns this year?” she asked.

Tuo Baxiao perked up. “You’d miss me if I went to war?”

Jiang Congyan: “...”

Spare me.

She shot him a withering look. “What I meant was, if the King has no immediate plans for war, could you allocate some iron to me? I want to forge farming tools.”

She sighed helplessly at this. Farming was truly no easy task—it required clearing the land, loosening the soil, watering, weeding, finding ways to compost, and preventing pests and diseases. If the heavens refused to cooperate and withheld rain for months, a year's labor would be wasted.

Farming was highly vulnerable to risks, and pastoralism even more so.

Tuo Baxiao paused, not immediately agreeing.

When he had initially demanded iron, it was for his own purposes. But now that she was asking for it, it was also an important matter, leaving him momentarily torn.

"Let me think about it a little longer."

He wanted time to consider, but Jiang Congyan was unwilling to wait. The political landscape could shift overnight, and if they missed this opportunity, there was no guarantee that border trade would even be possible next year.

After steeling herself, she raised her eyes, looked at him earnestly, and spoke with great solemnity: "Your Majesty, I desperately need that iron."

"Have you noticed? Winters have grown far harsher these past years... I fear that without enough grain, the grasslands will scrape through winter’s teeth. If another snow disaster strikes, thousands will freeze or starve..."

(In the 17th year of Yong'an, September) Heavy snow fell in the capital and nearby prefectures, bringing a cold so cruel. Many froze to death, and the roads were littered with corpses by the thousands.

(In the 18th year of Yong'an, March) Snow piled over a foot deep in Yan and Yong prefectures, freezing the rivers.

(In the 18th year of Yong'an, May) Frost and snow in Xuanzhou destroyed mulberry trees and crops.

The annals recorded a severe cold wave and snowstorm that lasted nearly half a year, from the 17th to the 18th year of Yong'an.

Even Liang State in the south suffered such devastating snow disasters—for the grasslands further north, it could be considered a disaster beyond reckoning.

There was no time left. She had to hoard grain—fast. The only solution now was to throw everything into farming during the last two years.

Tuo Baxiao had experienced snow disasters before—a vast white land devoid of greenery, frozen earth hard as rock, barren of food.

Thick snow swallowed lives whole. Back then, he had thought he and his mother would die that winter.

For a fleeting moment, grief shadowed Tuo Baxiao's face, but it quickly returned to normal, making one wonder if it had been an illusion.

"Very well. You have my word."

His voice carried weight. Jiang Congyan knew this decision was not easy for him. Once the news spread, many would push back, and he would face immense pressure.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She tilted her head slightly, her dark, lively eyes gazing at him—enough to soften the hardest heart.

The moment Tuo Baxiao saw her like this, he felt everything he had done was worth it.

"So... my place tonight?" The man seized the moment to make a request.

Jiang Congyan: "..."

"That’s not part of the deal." She withdrew her gaze and said sharply.

Tuo Baxiao gritted his teeth, glaring at her, aggrieved. When she still refused to relent, his expression gradually darkened into something unfathomable.

Two weeks. In two weeks, he’d have her pleading before him.

After a moment, Tuo Baxiao suddenly remembered he had brought back some items from the Jie. He ordered A Long to fetch them from the royal tent.

War naturally involved plundering spoils, and as the king, the finest treasures were reserved for him.

A Long quickly returned with several large chests carried by attendants. When opened, they revealed piles of gold, silver, jewels, and rare ornaments, tossed together like common trinkets.

"Pillaged from Wudushi’s palace—him and his sons. Pick what you fancy," Tuo Baxiao said.

Jiang Congyan: "..."

What a jumbled mess, no wonder she didn’t like it.

She stood up and looked through everything one by one, finally stopping at a box filled with fruits.

Inside were oranges, dates, peaches, walnuts... Though not very fresh, they still made her mouth water a little.

Though she had hard sugar to satisfy her sweet tooth, fruit’s sweetness hit differently.

Fruits were scarce on the grasslands, and she didn’t want to waste manpower searching for them, so she’d gone without for months. Now, seeing them suddenly, her cravings came rushing back.

At that moment, A Fei happened to bring over the medicine, cool enough to drink. Jiang Congyan took the bowl and drank it all in one go, swishing water around her mouth several times to barely suppress the bitter taste, though the bitterness still lingered.

A Fei cleverly picked out an orange from the box, peeled it, and handed it to her. "My lady, how about an orange to ease the bitterness of the medicine?"

Jiang Congyan gladly accepted it.

Tuo Baxiao watched as she drank the medicine without so much as a wince, showing no sign of being a picky eater, and asked, "You’re such a picky eater, yet you can swallow such bitter medicine so easily?"

"Used to it," Jiang Congyan replied flatly. The next second, her expression shifted as she looked at him with suspicion. "How’d you know my medicine was bitter?"

Tuo Baxiao: "..."

"Ahem, isn’t medicine supposed to be bitter? Could it be sweet?" He jutted his chin out defiantly.

He hadn’t expected her to be so sharp—he’d almost slipped up.

Jiang Congyan let out an "Oh," but inwardly, she felt the man wasn’t telling the truth. Still, she didn’t press the matter.

Tuo Baxiao, afraid she might figure something out and then give him the cold shoulder, quickly excused himself, saying he had other matters to attend to, and left in a hurry.

Jiang Congyan didn’t suspect anything—he was indeed quite busy.

After the man left, Jiang Congyan looked at the several large boxes of haphazardly piled jewelry in the middle of the room and felt a headache brewing.

They were valuable, no doubt, but since they were supposedly a gift from him, selling them wouldn’t be appropriate. Keeping them, however, didn’t do much for her.

A Fei, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed at the gold, silver, and jewels. Now her lady would have even more accessories.

Her lady was so beautiful—she should doll herself up more. But the lady herself didn’t care much, and many of the accessories she currently wore were still gifts from the old madam.

"First, sort these things out and make an inventory," Jiang Congyan instructed A Fei.

"On it!" A Fei chirped, quickly bringing in two maids to help organize everything.

Jiang Congyan’s illness wasn’t fully recovered yet, and she still felt weak and fatigued. Now, with the medicine making her drowsy, she turned to go rest in her room.

A Fei spent the entire afternoon categorizing and organizing the boxes of gold, silver, and jewelry, selecting the most tasteful pieces. Once her lady woke up, she came to ask if there was anything she liked.

Jiang Congyan glanced casually and fancied a glass lamp—its thin, transparent glass resembled a half-closed bowl, practical as it shielded the flame from wind while still letting light through.

That night, she retired to bed as usual.

Tuo Baxiao behaved himself for two days, but on the third night, he couldn’t help himself and sneaked back into her tent, quietly climbing into her bed.

After being kicked out and sleeping alone miserably for two nights, now that he was holding his wife again, Tuo Baxiao sighed contentedly, finally feeling satisfied.

In the past, Jiang Congyan’s light sleep would have alerted her to his movements. But these days, her illness had left her weak and exhausted, and the medicine she drank at night had a soporific effect, so she slept deeply, none the wiser about his antics.

Tuo Baxiao didn’t sneak back until late at night and left before dawn. Apart from the two Imperial Guards on night watch, no one noticed—though even the guards weren’t privy to the specifics of the couple’s relationship, so they didn’t report it to Jiang Congyan.

After two days of this, Jiang Congyan had mostly recovered from her illness. She stopped taking the medicine, and her sleep became lighter, finally sensing something amiss.

At first, she thought she was dreaming—dreamed enemy soldiers had tied her up, leaving her unable to move her hands or feet. Only when she struggled desperately and woke up did she realize someone was actually holding her.

Holding her? Who else could it be but that jerk?

In the pitch darkness, she reached out by instinct and pinched his arm hard.

The man's muscles went taut.

“What are you doing in my bed?” Jiang Congyan demanded angrily.

Tuo Baxiao stayed silent.

“Stop pretending. I know you’re awake,” she said, kicking him.

“I missed you too much,” the man murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I can’t sleep without holding you.”

“We were apart for over a month, and as soon as I returned, you kicked me out. Can’t you shorten my punishment a little?”

His voice was low, and in the still, ink-black night, the slightly husky, magnetic tone was like a soft feather tickling at one’s heart. Coupled with his pleading tone, someone less strong-willed might have fallen for it.

But Jiang Congyan’s heart was as hard as stone—she wasn’t fooled by his act. He might look pitiful now, but when she had pleaded with him, he'd shown no mercy. Instead, he had only redoubled his torment.

She had intended to coldly reaffirm her stance, but for some reason, her mind drifted to the ironclad promise he had made two days earlier. She knew how difficult that was, and for a moment, she hesitated.

The man, sharp as ever, seized the opportunity and pressed his advantage, showering her with sweet words, calling her pet name “Yanyan” several times. His tone was utterly devoid of the commanding presence he displayed before his subordinates. If word of this got out, he’d likely be mocked for being a pushover—but he couldn’t care less.

After all, no one else would know. A few sweet words to his wife wouldn’t kill him—the real prize was what mattered.

Jiang Congyan was so worn down by his pestering that she could barely sleep. In the end, she half-heartedly agreed—but not without restating her boundaries:

“You can stay, but no funny business.”

“Deal!” he agreed instantly, afraid she might change her mind the next second.

***

“Sister A Chun, you’ve checked the list I gave you, right? These are all things the lady is short on—don’t let anything slip through the cracks, make sure you bring them all back,” A Fei reminded anxiously outside the tent.

She had long wanted to take advantage of the opening of border trade to replenish the lady’s supplies. When they left Chang’an, they had brought plenty of goods, but after half a year, most had been used up—especially essentials like sticky rice, millet, fine flour, beans, tea, dried vegetables, refined salt, silk, candles… These were things scarce on the steppe, and every bit had to stretch every resource.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got it. I won’t forget anything,” A Chun waved her off before mounting her horse.

Jiang Congyan didn’t involve herself directly in the border trade, but since she had mentioned to Tuo Baxiao her plans to form a merchant convoy, she seized the opportunity to join the trading expedition and procure raw materials for various workshops. The direct trade route south to Liang (a neighboring state) had already been secured, making future commerce much smoother.

Two months earlier, Jiang Congyan had instructed A Chun and He Zhou to select one or two hundred slaves from the labor camp who could speak Chinese. After some discipline and training, and better rations, they had grown sturdier and could now follow orders. With the addition of overseers and the Liangzhou Imperial Guard commander, the group now barely passed for a proper convoy.

A few more trading trips to gain experience, recruiting more people, and letting veterans mentor newcomers—soon, the team would gradually expand.

After seeing off the merchant convoy, suddenly, a rider came galloping in from the distance.

A Fei quickly took it.

“A letter from Chang’an.”

A Fei immediately took it and presented it to her lady.

After reading its contents, Jiang Congyan suddenly gave a mirthless laugh.