Chapter 128 “Thank you, husband.”…

Chapter 128: "Thank you, husband."...

"Han characters?"

"Yes." Jiang Congyan nodded. "Come with me."

She stood up and walked toward the study, the man following obediently.

Jiang Congyan glanced at the bookshelf and quickly found what she wanted, taking out seven or eight volumes.

She laid the books out on the table, opening them one by one and gesturing for him to look.

"This volume contains the population statistics of the royal court and the disaster reports after last year's heavy snowfall. This one is the Tumochuan census records compiled and sent back by Ruo Lan. This one is the ledger of the sugar workshop, and..." Jiang Congyan introduced each one to him.

Tuo Baxiao casually picked up one of the ledgers and flipped through it, finding not only detailed content with many charts but also a clear layout at a glance. He had seen these tables before—they were the way she and her subordinates kept records. She even used simplified symbols to replace the original numbers, making the data appear more concise and straightforward.

"People’s memories are limited. As responsibilities grow, relying solely on memory is bound to lead to mistakes. When it comes to vast data like population, without written records, no one can manage the details, let alone different levels of commands. Without clear written directives, relying solely on verbal messages can easily lead to misunderstandings or even malicious miscommunication by schemers, potentially causing major mishaps. Written records can prevent such problems. Documenting land, population, finances, and taxes can deepen our understanding and control of the actual conditions in various places. Subordinates wouldn’t need to report in person—written messages would suffice..."

Jiang Congyan listed the benefits of writing in one go. Tuo Baxiao’s gaze returned to the ledger in his hand. After a moment, he looked back at her face. "You’re right. Writing is indeed important, but the Xianbei don’t have such complex scripts. As for the Han characters you mentioned, no Xianbei can read them. Your system wouldn’t work here."

"That brings me to the second point—teaching them Han characters." Jiang Congyan took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his directly.

Tuo Baxiao’s brow furrowed.

Jiang Congyan held his gaze steadily.

She had been considering this for a long time.

Han characters were the foundation of Chinese civilization, the crystallization of Chinese culture, and a vital symbol of national creativity and cohesion.

Learning to write was a significant matter, even akin to a silent battle, playing a crucial role in the development of ideology and thought. The Xianbei people might not yet recognize this, but their instincts would make them resistant to foreign culture.

Last year, when she had just arrived among the Xianbei, still unstable and short on personnel, she naturally wouldn’t have proposed such a universally unpopular idea right away. At the same time, she had been quietly observing Tuo Baxiao.

History recorded his Han assimilation reforms, but so far, she had seen no signs of such changes.

For his name to be so firmly recorded in history, lasting through two millennia of dynastic changes, the events of his time must have been truly momentous. It couldn’t have been mere empty words—he must have taken concrete actions to leave such a lasting impact.

She had also noticed that, apart from certain overly cumbersome rituals, Tuo Baxiao wasn’t opposed to Han culture. He enjoyed listening to her read books to him, but that was all. His current mindset showed no inclination toward actively pursuing sinicization reforms.

She had originally planned to wait longer, but her third brother’s words today reminded her—"Those not of our kind will surely have different hearts."

If Tuo Baxiao ever marched south, if he truly defeated all his rivals and unified the lands north and south, what means would he use to maintain his rule?

Like Wudati Hou, relying solely on brute military force to suppress all regions would eventually lead to chaos again. The land would again be torn by war.

Unless he could reform and adopt Han culture, making the Han people accept his rule.

Tuo Baxiao had half-Han ancestry, which was an advantage. If he could establish Han culture as the orthodox tradition, the Han people of the Central Plains might not resist as fiercely.

Of course, this was all her hopeful imagination.

Tuo Baxiao studied her for a long time before closing the book in his hand. "This will likely be very difficult."

He only said it would be difficult, not that it was impossible, nor did he question her intentions.

"I know." Jiang Congyan smiled at him. "But I still believe it should be done."

"Languages may fade, but writing leaves traces. It can transcend the limits of time and space, allowing history to be passed down and life to be recorded. Throughout the ages, the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, kings and generals—their bodies have long turned to dust, yet later generations remember them forever. We, too, will one day return to the earth. But because of writing, posterity may sing of our legacy."

Tuo Baxiao couldn’t help but imagine the scene she described—people would speak of him as a brave king and her as a clever princess, a match made in heaven.

“You're Han. This matter shouldn't come from you. The tribe would distrust you. I’ll bring it up,” Tuo Baxiao said.

Jiang Congyan’s eyes widened slightly as she gazed at him, stunned. He had even thought of this for her.

Just proposing the learning of Han characters would draw harsh criticism, even for a king.

Somehow, she suddenly wanted to cry.

She rose from her seat, stepped before him, and ignoring his sweat, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his jaw. Closing her eyes, she whispered softly in his ear:

“Thank you, husband.”

Hearing these words, feeling her breath brush against his cheek and ear, Tuo Baxiao felt his bones go weak. The matter he had just agreed to felt worth it.

He hugged her back tightly, turning his head to seek her lips.

Jiang Congyan refused, scrunching her nose and leaning away.

After a day of travel, covered in dust and sweat, she was okay with a hug but disliked being kissed like this.

Tuo Baxiao's eyes flared as he stared at her, but Jiang Congyan remained adamant.

“I'll wash!” the man growled.

“Mhm, good,” the girl giggled.

Good—now he had the awareness without needing her reminder.

After a quick rinse, Tuo Baxiao stepped out only to find her neither in the bedroom nor the study. He finally found her in the dining hall.

She sat at the table, dinner already laid out before her.

Hearing his approach, she turned slightly and looked up at him. “All clean? Let’s eat.”

Tuo Baxiao: “...”

“I’m hungry,” she said with a pout.

Tuo Baxiao could say nothing.

With a dark expression, he sat heavily beside her and shoveled noodles into his mouth in silence.

Jiang Congyan knew he was grumpy but dared not provoke him further, biting back a smile as she quietly ate her own noodles.

Suddenly, a large slice of char siu appeared in her bowl.

She looked up—Tuo Baxiao had done it.

Tonight’s dinner was simple: lamb noodle soup as the main dish, the milky-white, rich broth paired with chewy noodles and garnished with tender wild greens just sprouting in season—already delicious on its own.

Because he loved meat, two heavy meat dishes were specially prepared for him at every meal.

“I won’t eat this.” The char siu was made to his taste—fatty, savory, and salty—which she disliked.

As she tried to return the meat to his bowl, he stopped her.

“You’ve lost weight since winter. You should eat more meat.”

Putting it so grandly, Jiang Congyan felt he was deliberately "getting revenge" on her.

Unable to win the argument and under his persistent gaze, she had no choice but to reluctantly pick at it.

Auntie Zhu's cooking was excellent, and the barbecued pork actually tasted quite good—just too greasy. After struggling through half of it, she felt another bite might make her sick, so she pushed the rest into his bowl.

"I can't eat anymore. Finish it for me."

Seeing how clearly struggling she was, Tuo Baxiao didn’t force her.

He didn’t mind that she’d bitten it at all—in fact, he was quite pleased—and wolfed down the rest in one bite.

After the meal, Jiang Congyan had to drink two full cups of tea to wash down the greasy feeling, and then—

She was absolutely stuffed.

Tuo Baxiao had originally planned to drag her to bed right after dinner. He'd never expected this outcome.

"Feeling sick?"

"A little. Let me rest for a bit." Her voice was noticeably weaker.

Tuo Baxiao reached out to feel her stomach—sure enough, it was slightly bloated.

After resting for an hour, even as bedtime approached, Jiang Congyan still felt somewhat unwell. Even if Tuo Baxiao had any intentions, he couldn’t possibly be that beastly.

He flopped onto the bed, his expression clearly annoyed.

This wasn’t exactly self-sabotage.

Jiang Congyan desperately wanted to laugh, but even a chuckle made her stomach ache.

"..."

——

Learning written Chinese was no small matter. Preparatory work like papermaking, printing textbooks, and building classrooms alone required a significant amount of time.

Jiang Congyan drafted a rough plan. After meeting the new arrivals at the royal court, she first delegated various tasks and then arranged for surveys to further expand the workshops, especially the smelting workshop.

With limited land in the royal court, she had already relocated some industries to Tumochuan. The area was suitable for farming, had plenty of workers, convenient transportation, and was managed by Ruo Lan—making it the perfect choice.

Zhang Xun occasionally came to coordinate with her, but most of the time, he was at loose ends and would wander around the royal court on horseback.

Along the way, he saw herders tending their flocks, children playing, youths diligently practicing archery and horsemanship, busy workshops, and large troops of Xianbei cavalry training... The entire royal court was vibrant, with almost no traces of the recent blizzard—a stark contrast to the situation among the Qiang and Xiongnu.

To guard against the barbarians at the border, his eldest brother had led men beyond the pass before spring to scout their situation. The result? They had suffered heavy losses, with many people and livestock frozen to death.

Zhang Xun silently compared the situations. With one side weakening and the other strengthening, the Xianbei were bound to expand their influence once more.

As he pondered, he suddenly felt someone’s gaze on him. Following the direction, he spotted a well-dressed Xianbei woman on horseback, looking very young.

Zhang Xun nodded politely at her and was about to continue on his way when she rode her horse closer.

"Hello."

To his surprise, she even spoke Chinese. Zhang Xun raised an eyebrow in astonishment, his interest in the woman piqued.