Chapter 107 “Casting the golden statue.”

Chapter 107 "Forging the Golden Idol."

"Seize this sorcerer who spreads malicious rumors and attempts to harm the Khatun using supernatural claims! Burn him at the stake!"

Upon hearing the rumors, Tuo Baxiao exploded in fury and immediately ordered A Long to investigate the source. Within two days, they traced the origin of the rumors to the Grand Shaman of the Xianbei.

Not one to suffer insults quietly, Tuo Baxiao instantly recognized this as a scheme to smear Jiang Congyan. His eyes flashed with fury as he rose abruptly, ready to kill in vengeance.

She married him, and he promised to protect her—to ensure no one could harm her. He intended to keep it.

Once, he had failed to protect his mother. Now, as King, he would never let her suffer the same fate.

He took his guards to arrest the culprit himself.

Jiang Congyan had also been contemplating the matter. Rumors didn’t appear out of nowhere, and the timing was too convenient. After careful consideration, only one explanation remained—she was in someone’s way.

She did not deny that she had encroached upon the interests of certain Xianbei nobles—the land taken for her workshops, the farmlands of Tumochuan, the craftsmen from her dowry, and the court’s former slaves. Had she done nothing, all these would have remained in Xianbei hands. But now, they were under her control.

A few months prior, Tuo Baxiao had led a southern campaign against the Jie tribe. Though victorious, the participating nobles received fewer slaves than usual, despite their shares of gold and silver spoils.

And then, five days ago, the blizzard struck. By sheltering countless displaced herders, she had earned their genuine gratitude, erasing their initial wariness and hostility. Anyone sharp could tell she would not stop here—a major threat to the established Xianbei nobility. The one most threatened...

Could it be Kediyan?

Kediyan’s hostility was not the most overt. Compared to him, other Xianbei nobles like Fu Luohan and Huyan Pilou were far more blatant in their disdain, their hatred nearly spilling from their expressions.

Yet sometimes, it’s the silent ones you should fear.

Jiang Congyan sat at the desk in the hall, a light blanket over her legs. To her lower left was a bronze-headed warming brazier, to her upper left a jade inkstone, while the rest of the desk was piled with documents—reports waiting for her approval. The towering stacks nearly buried her.

She held her brush, lost in thought, still untouched to paper. Her instincts still pointed to Kediyan as the prime suspect. But as her mind wandered to Tuo Bahuai, she dismissed it—he had left for the Kumoxi tribe days ago, making his involvement unlikely.

She felt like she stood in darkness, surrounded by wolves with gleaming crimson eyes, yet their true forms remained obscured.

If they could twist superstition, she could undo it.

Just as Jiang Congyan began piecing together a plan, shouts rang out outside the tent.

"Ah Yan sister! Ah Yan sister!" Lan Zhu rushed in breathlessly.

"Ah Yan sister!"

Too frantic for formalities, she pushed past the servants and threw open the tent flap.

A gust of icy wind followed her, slicing through the warm, fragrant air inside, lifting Jiang Congyan’s sleeves and brushing against her cheeks, stirring the strands of hair at her temples.

"What’s wrong?"

Jiang Congyan remained composed, calmly addressing Lan Zhu—until the next words made her expression darken.

"The King is taking men to kill the Grand Shaman."

"What?"

Jiang Congyan stood abruptly, the blanket slipping from her knees unnoticed.

"I saw them on the way here. As soon as I heard, I came straight to you. But the King moves fast—he’s probably got him by now."

"The Grand Shaman has always held a special position in the tribe. If the King kills him just like that, it will surely provoke public outrage," Lan Zhu quickly explained the gravity of the situation.

She had naturally heard of the rumor—the Grand Shaman’s divination claimed that the Xianbei had harbored someone who should not have existed, angering the Hutian God, who sent the snowstorm as punishment. It was clearly an attempt to tarnish Ah Yan’s reputation.

The Grand Shaman’s malice was clear, but she understood even more the tribe’s superstitious awe of shamans and omens. That was why, upon learning of the King’s actions, she immediately came to inform Ah Yan, hoping she could stop him.

Jiang Congyan had already grasped the severity from her words. Without hesitation, she grabbed the fox-fur cloak hanging on the rack. "Lead the way."

The two hurried into the snowstorm.

The three-day blizzard had let up. To facilitate reconstruction, the main roads had been cleared of snow. But since yesterday, the gray sky had begun sprinkling light snow again, coating the ground with a thin layer of ice, making the path treacherous.

Fortunately, Jiang Congyan’s riding skills had improved greatly, and the jade-white steed beneath her was an exceptional horse, steady in its gait. They followed Lan Zhu without incident to the Grand Shaman’s dwelling.

It stood on a small hill slightly higher than the royal encampment, almost at the northern edge. The area was sparsely dotted with tents, and black banners scrawled with occult symbols flapped in the cold wind, casting a grim, unnatural pall.

Due to the sparse foot traffic, Jiang Congyan could still make out a messy trail of hoofprints in the snow.

Just as Lan Zhu was about to proceed, Jiang Congyan called out, "Wait."

Lan Zhu reined in her horse and turned back.

Jiang Congyan pointed at the marks in the snow. "Look, there are drag marks and faint bloodstains here. And the hoofprints are heading the opposite way. The King’s already left the shaman’s place."

Following the trail, it led straight to the royal encampment—where the crowds gathered.

To be safe, Jiang Congyan immediately ordered one of the accompanying Imperial Guards to check the hill, then said to Lan Zhu, "Let’s follow the hoofprints."

Tuo Baxiao had stormed into the Grand Shaman’s dwelling with his men. He had initially wanted to cut him down on the spot but felt it would be too merciful. Besides, he smelled a trap, so he suppressed his temper and interrogated him. Yet the man refused to confess, swearing his divinations were true. Enraged, Tuo Baxiao snarled, "If you won’t talk, then die."

He had the Grand Shaman bound and personally dragged him by rope all the way to the eastern banks of Rouge Lake’s lower basin.

This was an age of superstition, especially among the nomadic tribes. With harsh living conditions and underdeveloped technology, they could only pray and endure when disasters or plagues struck. Thus, they placed their hopes in the gods, praying for divine protection to avert calamities.

Ordinary folk could not commune with deities, so the Grand Shaman, the tribe’s conduit to the gods, became their divine spokesperson. The people revered and feared him, daring not show the slightest disrespect. Now, seeing Tuo Baxiao tie him up and drag him through the snow until he nearly fainted, it sent a ripple of horror through them.

No one dared defy the King outright, yet they couldn’t help but stop and follow, herders and nobles jostling side by side, eager to see what fate awaited the shaman.

Thus, the crowd around Tuo Baxiao grew.

"King, what are you doing? Why show such disrespect to the Grand Shaman?" asked Fu Luohan, who had rushed over upon hearing the news. His eyes dark with disapproval.

The King pulled up short.

Fu Luohan continued, "The Grand Shaman is the messenger of the Hutian God. Disrespecting him is disrespecting the gods. What if they smite us again?"

Tuo Baxiao narrowed his jade-green eyes, his gaze sharp as a blade. "So you also believe the blizzard was divine punishment?"

Hearing the danger in his tone, Fu Luohan stiffened, the blood draining from his face.

After two days of rumors, the prophecy had singled out one person—the Han Princess. If he agreed now, he would openly defy the King.

"That’s not what I meant."

Tuo Baxiao snorted coldly, scanning the growing crowd before tossing the rope aside. "Men, gather firewood."

His Imperial Guards immediately dismounted, collecting logs and stacking them in the middle of the road—clearly preparing to burn the Grand Shaman alive.

A nervous buzz spread through the crowd, whispers exchanged as they stole uneasy glances at Tuo Baxiao. Though none dared openly oppose, their reactions made their disapproval clear.

At this moment, more nobles who had heard the news arrived, including Kediyan. As their numbers grew, the crowd seemed to gain more courage, and finally, someone stepped forward.

"My King, though you rule over us, you cannot disrespect the Grand Shaman and the gods like this," said Huyan Pilou.

Tuo Baxiao sat high on his horse, looking down at everyone opposing him. A wave of white-hot fury surged through him, his jaw muscles tightening. "This shaman maliciously spread lies, intending to harm the Khatun. What does it matter if I execute him now? Or are you the ones behind this, instructing him to do so?"

Tuo Baxiao's sharp eyes were like the coldest, most merciless blades. When they swept over the crowd, everyone felt as if gooseflesh prickled across their skin.

The crowd fell deathly still. Then, the Grand Shaman, battered from being dragged, suddenly spoke again.

"King, the words I spoke were all divinations I received. I never intended to harm the Khatun."

His injuries were severe, and his voice wavered, yet his tone was firm. Combined with his grim, battered state, many began to believe him.

Tuo Baxiao's expression darkened, his brow furrowing deeply, his eyes shadowed with a thunderous scowl.

By then, the Royal Guard had already prepared the firewood. Tuo Baxiao ordered them to throw the shaman onto the pile. A Long stood nearby, holding a torch.

"Answer me one last time: was someone behind the rumors from the other day? If you name the mastermind, I will spare your life. If you refuse, then you will learn firsthand how flames consume flesh."

In the past, those who offended the gods or were deemed harbingers of disaster were burned alive by the Grand Shaman as an offering for divine forgiveness. The shaman would even perform ritual dances and chants as they burned.

The Grand Shaman's eyelids twitched, his stiff body trembling slightly. Ice crawled up his spine, but he suppressed his fear, suddenly opening his eyes like fissures splitting aged wood.

Gazing up at the misty sky, he mustered all his strength and roared hoarsely, "I have served as a shaman for decades, devoted to the gods. Only then did the gods deign to give me their signs. My divinations were all divine will—no one instructed me!"

"I saw the Comet appear in the Willow constellation, and Mars and Saturn lingering near Heart. This signifies the rise of evil. That is why I divined to seek the gods' will. King, this is a warning from the gods to the Xianbei! If you defy it, you will bring endless calamity upon us!"

He raised his arm, his bony fingers clawing at the sky as if trying to grasp something, gasping for breath. His eyes, swollen and bloodshot, bulged grotesquely, a horrifying sight.

With every word he spoke, Tuo Baxiao's fury burned hotter, veins throbbing at his temples, his knuckles white.

This shaman's words were blasphemy and sedition—implying that any future disasters would be Tuo Baxiao's fault for angering the gods.

Tuo Baxiao had never feared these elusive deities. He believed only in himself, in the power of his own strength.

"Set it ablaze."

"King, you cannot do this!"

"Yes, if you anger the gods, the Xianbei will know no peace!"

"King, would you slaughter our Shaman over some Han concubine?" Kediyan asked.

Tuo Baxiao ignored all protests, his gaze icy. "Set it ablaze."

A Long dared not hesitate and moved the torch toward the shaman. Just as the flames were about to lick the dry wood, a woman’s sharp cry pierced through the noise of the crowd.

"Stop!"

A Long recognized the voice and immediately withdrew his hand.

Tuo Baxiao instinctively turned. Braving the blizzard, a woman cloaked in white rushed toward them.

The crowd parted, and Jiang Congyan slowed her horse, stopping before Tuo Baxiao.

Her first glance was behind him, where she spotted the shaman—still alive—in his ritual garb, bound atop the kindling. His face streaked with sacred pigments.

*Just in time,* she thought.

"What brings you here?" Tuo Baxiao turned his horse around.

Jiang Congyan had raced over so fast that her heart was pounding wildly, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Tiny snowflakes peppered her hood and shoulders, while snowflakes clung to her brows and lashes, only to melt from her warm body heat and exhaled breath, turning into tiny droplets that glistened against her snow-white skin. Her cheeks, flushed from exertion, made her glow like dew, like a spring peach in the snow.

Tuo Baxiao’s gaze lingered on her face, unable to look away. He swallowed hard, unbidden, and even the raging fury stirred by the shaman ebbed somewhat.

He couldn’t help but remember… how she looked just like this, flushed and glistening, during certain moments of the night…

Jiang Congyan caught her breath, waiting until she could speak smoothly before asking, "You were going to burn the Grand Shaman?"

"Yes." Her words yanked him back to reality, the fleeting warmth in his eyes dissipating, replaced once more by icy resolve.

"No."

"This man is treacherous, using superstition to shift blame onto you. I won’t rest until he’s dead."

Jiang Congyan shook her head. "I’m not saying we should let him go unpunished. Killing him is easy, but what will people say?"

As she spoke, she glanced at the surrounding Xianbei onlookers, her gaze lingering on the nobles led by Kediyan.

Rumors alone couldn’t kill, but hearts were fickle—they could shift the tide.

"I’m Han by birth. It’s only natural for the tribesmen to doubt me. Now that the rumors have spread throughout the royal court, executing the Grand Shaman this way will only deepen their prejudice against me." Jiang Congyan calmly spelled out the risks.

Tuo Baxiao scowled. He didn’t care what others thought, but when it concerned her, he had to reconsider.

"What do you propose?"

Jiang Congyan lowered her lashes slightly before a glint of clarity shone in her dark eyes. "Forge a golden idol."