Chapter 109 Pinched his cheeks and pulled them apart…

Chapter 109 She pinched his cheeks and tugged them outward...

"You must never act so impulsively again," Jiang Congyan lifted her head, gazing at the man's sharply defined jawline with a faint shadow of stubble. Likely forgotten in his morning rage.

As she prepared to withdraw from his embrace, barely straightening her back, she was suddenly crushed in an iron grip.

The man's arms, muscled like steel cables, were not only unyielding but threatened to crush her against him. Their chests pressed together, leaving no space between them.

Jiang Congyan could barely breathe under the pressure, her shoulders pinned so tightly she couldn’t lift them. She had no choice but to pinch the flesh at his waist, urging him to loosen his grip.

She deliberately increased the pressure, and sure enough, his body tensed, the muscles of his abdomen twitching in response.

Thinking he must have regained his senses, she tilted her head up to meet his lowered face—only to find his jade-green eyes gleaming with an unsettling, feverish light.

"..."

"Let me go. You're squeezing too tight—it hurts." Under his predatory gaze, her voice grew softer, laced with an involuntary tremor.

No sooner had she spoken than his striking features surged closer, his lips sealing over hers in a searing kiss. Before she could react, his tongue invaded her mouth, claiming every drop of sweetness.

Already struggling for air, Jiang Congyan grew even more lightheaded from his relentless assault. A muffled whimper was all she could manage before her voice was swallowed whole, her fingers clutching desperately at the fabric of his tunic.

Their silhouettes, cast by the bronze lamp’s flame onto the folding screen behind them, painted an intimate scene—the towering shadow engulfing the slighter one, their heads tilting in passionate motion. Then, abruptly, the larger figure lunged forward, twisting until the delicate form was entirely consumed. The broad back undulated like a beast devouring its prey... leaving behind only faint, helpless whimpers.

It felt like an eternity before Tuo Baxiao finally reined in the feral excitement coursing through him. His large hand cradled her slender shoulder, loosening his grip just slightly—though his forehead still pressed to hers, their noses brushing, their heated breaths tangling between them.

His gaze dropped to her lips, swollen and glistening from his kisses, their rosy sheen more alluring than the most exquisite petals under the candlelight. They parted slightly as she gasped for air, each exhale sweet and intoxicating—maddeningly tempting him to claim them once more.

Frustrated by his lack of restraint, Jiang Congyan considered pinching him again—but recalling how that had only inflamed him earlier, she reluctantly withdrew her hand and instead shoved at his chest with her elbow.

He gave a low chuckle as he yielded slightly, though he captured her delicate fist in his palm.

"I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you earlier. I’ve held back until now."

Was he actually playing the victim now? Jiang Congyan glared at him—only for her vision to darken abruptly as his hand covered her eyes.

"Don’t look at me like that," he rasped, his voice strained to the breaking point.

"..."

After their heated moment, once her flushed cheeks had cooled, Jiang Congyan got back to serious matters.

Though she found his earlier recklessness concerning, she couldn’t deny the flutter in her chest—he had kept his promise to protect her.

Her initial response had been meant as a simple acknowledgment, but the man had proven scarily responsive.

"If I hadn’t arrived in time and you’d actually burned the Grand Shaman alive, it wouldn't just affect me—yours would suffer even more."

She couldn’t tell whether whoever's behind this was targeting her alone or if Tuo Baxiao had also been part of the plot. If the latter, the enemy’s cunning ran deep—they'd clearly studied how to push his buttons.

A king who defied divine will, who would publicly execute a revered shaman merely for a woman, might intimidate his people for now. But once whispers took root—blaming every future calamity on his defiance of the heavens—his rule would eventually collapse under the weight of their resentment.

"I don’t care what others say," Tuo Baxiao dismissed with a shrug.

Infuriated, Jiang Congyan swatted his arm. "Were you even listening? They’ve set a trap, and you’re *determined* to leap right in—is it because you think no one can challenge you? It's the little things that bring down the mighty. You must nip problems in the bud, or it’ll be too late when you finally stumble."

Getting angrier, she raised both hands, gripping his cheeks and pulling hard enough to leave red marks on his tough skin.

"Alright, alright—I understand. From now on, I’ll think twice before acting. No more acting first and thinking later. Satisfied?"

The once arrogant Prince of Mobei now looked like a henpecked husband, letting her do whatever she pleased with him.

Jiang Congyan snorted, "That's better."

Perhaps no one is perfect. Tuo Baxiao was brave and skilled in battle, formidable in military command, yet he was also hot-headed. Once provoked, he would go mad, disregarding everything.

Jiang Congyan was constantly worried about what would happen two years later. Given the current situation, his health was certainly not the issue—so the greater likelihood was that he had fallen into some scheme. If that were the case, she needed to work hard to correct Tuo Baxiao’s temperament and avoid history repeating itself.

"...Logically, the Grand Shaman holds such an exalted position in the tribe. How could he be willing to sacrifice everything he has just to drag us down? Even if he were bribed with vast amounts of gold and treasure, he still refused to confess even at the cost of his life, instead pointing the blame at you in the end. It just doesn’t add up." Jiang Congyan muttered under her breath.

She sighed inwardly—even in the crude tribes of the grasslands, matters of power were full of scheming and power struggles. Tuo Baxiao had, after all, only been on the throne for a short time. In the past few years, he had been busy waging campaigns in all directions, never focusing his energy on internal affairs. Moreover, without the support of his mother's clan, many matters were still controlled by the original Xianbei nobles.

"Could it be Kediyan?"

"Him? It’s possible." Tuo Baxiao narrowed his jade-green eyes.

"You threatened the Grand Shaman with burning him alive, yet he still wouldn’t talk. I don’t think we'll get anything more from him. I’ve thought of a way to try and lure out the person behind this."

"What way?"

Jiang Congyan smiled, tilting her smiling face up at him. "I won’t tell you. Just wait and see."

"Hm?" Before the fish could be hooked, Tuo Baxiao’s curiosity was already caught. He frowned at her. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Jiang Congyan only shook her head with a laugh.

Tuo Baxiao pouted for a moment, staring at her soft cheeks before suddenly gripping the back of her head and pressing his chin against her, deliberately teasing her with the faint stubble of his beard.

Jiang Congyan let out a little yelp, feeling both pain and ticklishness as she tried to dodge, but she was no match for his strength.

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

When she refused, he continued teasing her until her fair cheeks flushed red, and in their tussle, he pinned her down onto the couch.

"You’re just bullying me because I can’t beat you," she accused.

Tuo Baxiao gazed at her teary eyes, his own darkening. "Haven't you been tormenting me too? You stir me up and then refuse to—"

Jiang Congyan, knowing where this was heading, quickly covered his mouth.

——

The day before, news of Jiang Congyan’s intention to cast a golden figure had spread throughout the royal compound. She summoned Fu Tiesheng, and after a long discussion, ordered him to prepare the necessary arrangements.

The next day, someone saw her personally visit the metalworking shop. Though no one could enter to see what was happening inside, the shop erupted in cheers so loud you'd think the roof would cave in.

Had the golden figure been successfully cast?

Though the casting of the golden figure was meant to divine the will of heaven, selecting a queen was different from other divinations—she could practice the craft beforehand.

But even with practice, could she have succeeded in just a day or two?

No one knew for sure, but news of the shop’s events quickly reached those who were watching closely.

In Kediyan’s command tent, he was admiring a rare ruby nearly the size of a chicken’s egg—a gem so precious even Tuo Baxiao might not possess one. Yet here it was in his hands, filling him with smug pride. But when he heard his subordinate’s report, his face fell. His hawk-like eyes snapped up, and his fingers clenched so tightly around the ruby that he didn't even notice it cutting into his palm.

She succeeded?

Of course—that Han woman had skilled craftsmen under her. Casting a golden figure would be child's play for her.

Did she foresee this when she proposed creating the golden statue two days ago? Was it all intentional?

Ordinary people might believe the creation of the golden statue was the will of heaven, but for a noble like Kediyan, who sits at the top of the power structure, he understands the truth behind it far better than others.

Should he just stand by and watch as she gains boundless prestige, severely threatening his current position?

Kediyan would never accept such an outcome.

He closed his eyes, his wrinkled eyelids fluttering as his eyeballs darted beneath them. After a long moment of contemplation, he finally reopened his eyes and summoned a trusted attendant, whispering brief instructions.

"Go, be careful. Don’t be seen."

"Yes."

Meanwhile, following Jiang Congyan’s instructions, Lan Zhu changed into a simple sheepskin jacket and wrapped a scarf around her face, making it difficult for others to recognize her identity at a glance.

As evening fell, she quietly made her way to the dwelling of the female shaman, located on the southern shore of Rouge Lake, facing the Grand Shaman’s temple.

Through the light snow, Lan Zhu arrived at the female shaman’s tent and knocked on the wooden door.

"Mo Wu, are you home?"

The female shaman was called Mo, and everyone referred to her as Mo Wu (a title meaning 'female shaman').

Before long, the wooden door creaked open, revealing Mo Wu’s aged face.

She wasn’t wearing her feathered shamanic headdress, but her face was still painted with colorful pigments, her hair loose, and her body draped in the long, multicolored robes of a shaman.

Her eyes showed surprise at the sight of Lan Zhu, but they soon returned to their customary deep calm—until Lan Zhu’s next words broke her calm.

"Mo Wu, do you want to become the Grand Shaman?"