Chapter 100: You’re Hurt, Let’s Go Back.

Chapter 100: You're Hurt, Let's Go Back

Tuoba Xiao was some distance away, having just emerged from around the corner of a nearby tent.

After last night's snowfall, the surroundings were a blanket of white. Standing there in his black robes, he stood out starkly, carrying an aura of a killing chill.

Tuoba Wuxi's voice had been so loud and arrogant, echoing across the wilderness—there was no way Tuoba Xiao hadn't heard it.

Jiang Congyan stared at him blankly, rooted to the spot.

The man rode his *Li Eagle* closer, his steps steady and unhurried as always, yet she could sense the storm brewing within him, a suffocating tension.

Tuoba Xiao was not one to suppress his anger. In the past, anyone who provoked him would face his wrath immediately. But in this situation, his seemingly calm demeanor was all the more terrifying.

Yet Tuoba Wuxi continued to court death. "Tuoba Xiao was deeply attached to his Han mother. But she died, and after her death, he refused to eat or drink for a long time. At twenty, he still wouldn’t touch a woman, insisting on going to Liang State to marry you—all because he missed his Han mother and wanted a woman who resembled her! Hahaha..."

Lost in his own madness, he rambled wildly, completely oblivious to the dark figure approaching from behind.

Jiang Congyan trembled—with anger and shock. Tuoba Wuxi’s words were vile, insulting not just her but also Tuoba Xiao and his mother.

She was certain that Tuoba Xiao’s mother was his most sensitive wound, something she had always carefully avoided. But now, Tuoba Wuxi wasn’t just touching it—he was tearing at it with all his might, as if trying to rip the flesh away.

A dragon’s fury would surely bring earth-shaking rage.

"Tuoba Wuxi!" Jiang Congyan shouted, hoping the man would shut up before he sealed his own fate. But he ignored her.

"Guess if he ever thinks of her when you two are in bed—"

*CRACK!*

A fist struck Tuoba Wuxi’s face, cutting off his words mid-sentence.

Tuoba Xiao’s arm remained suspended in the air, his fingers clenched so tightly the veins bulged as if about to burst through his skin.

Caught off guard, Tuoba Wuxi took the full force of the blow. Blood gushed from his nose, spilled from his lips, and his upper body lurched sideways, nearly toppling off his horse.

His ears rang, and for a few seconds, he was dazed. Then, realization struck. When he looked up, he met Tuoba Xiao’s face.

The expression there was more terrifying than anything he had ever seen on the battlefield—his jade-green eyes had turned into dozens of frost-tipped needles, radiating a cold deeper than time, and something darker… the promise of death.

Tuoba Xiao’s jaw was clenched so tightly his face contorted with rage, his breathing ragged.

He swung again, his fist crashing toward Tuoba Wuxi with brutal force.

Tuoba Wuxi reacted just in time, ducking, but the grazing hit still struck his shoulder with crushing weight, knocking him off his horse.

Tuoba Xiao lunged, slamming him down. Tuoba Wuxi blocked with his arms and kicked upward, trying to throw him off, but Tuoba Xiao’s grip was unrelenting.

Tuoba Wuxi wasn’t injured or drunk—just bitter after a night of wandering alone following a heated argument with Qiu Liju. Seeing Jiang Congyan, the reason for their quarrel, he had snapped and taunted. Now, sobering up to Tuoba Xiao’s murderous rage, he refused to yield, fighting back with everything he had.

Regret flickered in him, but it was too late. And he’d never submit to Tuoba Xiao—so he swung his own fist at his face.

The two exchanged blows, rolling across the ground, churning snow into filthy muck. Their clothes, faces, and hair were soon caked in filth, their features unrecognizable—only their eyes blazing red remained starkly visible.

Onlookers gaped, bewildered, not understanding why the Sixth Prince and the King were suddenly brawling. But the savagery of their brawl kept them at a distance.

Jiang Congyan called out twice—"My King!"—then twice more—"Tuoba Xiao!"—but the men didn’t hear her.

They fought further away, soon careening toward a hillside. Whether by accident or force, they plummeted down together. The snow on the slope was trampled beneath them, revealing patches of yellowed, blackened grass beneath. Jiang Congyan quickly dismounted to assess their injuries.

The grassland was covered in snow, hiding any sharp rocks underneath—a blow to the head could be fatal.

She stood at the edge of the slope and saw the two men had rolled down to a flatter area, still brawling.

Tuoba Wuxi fought fiercely, but he was facing Tuo Baxiao, who was even more formidable—especially now, consumed by rage. Having frozen all night, Tuoba Wuxi had lost much of his stamina and was quickly overpowered again by Tuo Baxiao, taking several brutal punches to the abdomen. The pain was so intense he felt like his organs had been rearranged, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Occasionally, Tuoba Wuxi managed to retaliate, striking Tuo Baxiao’s face and torso, but each time, he was met with an even harder hit in return.

This was no polite sparring match like at the wedding—Tuo Baxiao truly intended to kill him.

More people arrived upon hearing the commotion. Some rushed down to intervene, while Tuoba Wuxi’s subordinates tried to separate the two. But neither fighter was in any state to listen, swinging wildly at anyone who came near.

A few wondered what had sparked the fight, though most had no idea. The handful who had overheard bits of the truth dared not speak up now. A tense, uneasy mood settled over the crowd.

Before long, Jiang Congyan heard Qiu Liju’s voice. Turning, she saw her riding up in a frenzy. The moment Qiu Liju spotted the two men at the foot of the slope, she half-ran, half-slid down.

"Tuoba Wuxi! Stop it—don’t fight the King anymore!"

"Tuoba Wuxi!"

"Tuoba Wuxi…"

Her voice cracked with desperation. Tuoba Wuxi instinctively glanced toward the sound, distracted just long enough for Tuo Baxiao to land a punch square on his forehead. His vision went black as he lost consciousness, his arm dropping limply to the ground—now just a helpless lump on the ground.

Tuo Baxiao kept hitting him, punch after punch.

Qiu Liju froze for a moment, then shuddered before pleading, "My King, please stop! He’s going to die!"

"My King! Stop…"

Tuo Baxiao was like a rabid animal, his sole purpose now to keep swinging until the man in front of him was a bloody mess.

Qiu Liju threw herself forward to stop him but was effortlessly shoved away.

If this continued, Tuoba Wuxi would truly die. Even after their fight, she couldn’t bear that.

Desperate, Qiu Liju scanned the crowd and saw Jiang Congyan being helped down the slope by the Imperial Guard. She rushed over, dropping to her knees in the snow. "Khatun, please—reason with the King. Make him stop. If this goes on, Tuoba Wuxi will die."

"Tuoba Wuxi did wrong, and we’ll take whatever punishment. As long as the King spares his life, I’ll make amends for what he did."

"Khatun, you’re the only one who can save him now."

Jiang Congyan frowned slightly, grabbing her arm to steady her. "Qiu Liju, you don’t have to kneel. I can’t promise I’ll succeed, but I’ll try."

She had already intended to intervene, but as she said, she wasn’t certain of her influence.

"Good, good—if the Khatun pleads, the King will surely listen…" Qiu Liju hastily stood aside.

Jiang Congyan took a few more steps forward. Finally, she saw Tuo Baxiao clearly—caked in mud and snow, his face barely human, save for his terrifyingly savage eyes.

His jade-green pupils were unfocused, the rims of his eyes a frightening crimson. The mix of green and blood-red created a bone-chilling, murderous glare.

He was more terrifying than any beast, and even Jiang Congyan felt a spike of fear. She had never seen him so out of control.

"Tuo Baxiao," she called.

As expected, he didn’t hear her.

Jiang Congyan lowered her gaze, gauging the distance between them. Clenching her sleeves nervously, she took another step forward. "Tuo Baxiao, stop." She shouted.

The man seemed to hear her, pausing briefly—but only for a moment—before continuing to pummel the limp figure beneath him.

Tuoba Wuxi was barely recognizable, his face covered in blood, bones twisted out of shape. Jiang Congyan wasn’t even sure he was still breathing.

She kept calling out to him, but no matter how she pleaded, the man refused to stop.

There was no other choice—she had to risk it.

Her hands clenched and unclenched in her sleeves. Taking a deep breath, Jiang Congyan stepped forward again, grabbing his suspended arm with both hands.

"Tuo Baxiao!" She shut her eyes.

The man couldn’t halt his momentum in time, and the sheer force of his arm sent her stumbling. She fell onto the snow.

Damn, that stung!

Only then did he snap back to awareness, his vision and hearing reconnecting with the world. He turned to look at her, the haze in his pale green eyes clearing slightly.

Jiang Congyan used the opening to lunge at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Tuo Baxiao, stop, please. Just stop, okay?"

Stop? No. He wanted Tuoba Wuxi dead.

Tuo Baxiao gripped her waist, trying to pull her aside, but she locked her arms behind his neck, clinging tightly.

"Don’t stop me," he growled, his voice gravelly.

"No, I can’t let go," Jiang Congyan insisted. "You’re not thinking clearly. I’m afraid you’ll regret this."

She wanted to save Tuoba Wuxi—not just because Qiu Liju had begged her, but for the stability of the tribe. If Tuoba Wuxi really died, his men wouldn’t take it lying down. The Helan clan might even rebel.

"If you truly want to kill Tuoba Wuxi, wait until you’ve calmed down to decide. I won’t stop you then," she added.

Tuo Baxiao still wouldn’t back down, so Jiang Congyan held on, refusing to let him move.

Qiu Liju watched them cautiously, holding her breath, silent. Her gaze flickered to Tuoba Wuxi, lying motionless on the ground—still breathing, it seemed. She let out a shaky breath, though couldn’t tell if she was more bitter or relieved.

The standoff dragged on until Jiang Congyan gradually noticed the man’s breathing easing. She loosened her grip slightly, taking in his bruised face. "You’re hurt. Let’s go back. I’ll treat your wounds."