Chapter 129 Day after day, besides fighting…

Chapter 129: Every single day, it's just fighting...

"Hello, I am Zhang Xun, the big brother of your Khatun (your queen)," Zhang Xun said.

However, the other party seemed not yet fluent in Chinese. After hearing his words, she paused to think it over for a moment before replying in slightly accented Chinese, "Oh, I see. You are Ah Yan's big brother."

"You’re so handsome—just like Ah Yan," the girl said slowly, word by word.

Zhang Xun didn’t expect her to compliment his looks right away, staring openly at him. Yet her eyes were clear, filled only with innocent curiosity and admiration, so it didn’t feel offensive.

"What’s your name? Are you Ah Yan’s good friend?" Zhang Xun asked, speaking slowly on purpose.

She understood the words "name," "Ah Yan," and "friend."

"I am Lan Zhu, we are good friends," Lan Zhu replied, trying to string the unfamiliar words together.

Zhang Xun wasn’t bothered by her broken Chinese. Instead, he found this Xianbei girl intriguing. She looked pure Xianbei, and her status seemed high—yet she had bothered to learn Chinese.

"Did you learn Chinese from Ah Yan?"

"Huh?"

Seeing her confusion, Zhang Xun patiently repeated, "'Chinese,' 'Ah Yan,' 'learn.'"

Lan Zhu roughly grasped his question and nodded. "Yes, Ah Yan, Si Zi, A Chun, A Fei, learn."

Zhang Xun had never talked like this before, and he thought it was kinda fun. He continued asking questions.

Even though Lan Zhu’s Chinese was rough, as long as he used certain key words, she could grasp his meaning and respond.

Zhang Xun inquired about her relationship with Jiang Congyan, sneakily confirming that the two were indeed close. He also learned that Ah Yan was doing well for herself in the royal court. Discreetly, he asked about Tuo Baxiao and discovered that he was leaning hard on Zhang Zheng to train soldiers and oversee weaponry, further validating his earlier speculations.

Lan Zhu was just as curious about Zhang Xun.

Apart from those Jiang Congyan had brought, she had never met other Han Chinese, especially a highborn gentleman.

Ah Yan had come from the Central Plains, bringing stuff Lan Zhu had never even imagined—beautiful rouge, fragrant ointments, exquisite jewelry, gorgeous silks, and countless delicious foods.

In her imagination, the Central Plains must be a place full of wonders, with towering palaces, bustling markets, soft-spoken, pretty girls, and refined, elegant gentlemen—all very different from the Xianbei people.

Lan Zhu had never been there, so she couldn’t really picture it.

Ah Yan had given her an understanding of women from the Central Plains, but meeting Zhang Xun made her realize what a Han gentleman praised by others should look like.

The two chatted as they rode leisurely across the grasslands. Lan Zhu enthusiastically introduced him to the royal court, especially the workshops Jiang Congyan had established after her arrival.

When they encountered communication barriers, simple gestures kept the conversation flowing.

Zhang Xun, mild-mannered and patient, listened attentively, smiling and responding from time to time. Lan Zhu thought to herself, "No wonder he’s Ah Yan’s big brother—much easier to get along with than He Zhou and the others!"

Sometimes when she tried to chat with them, they would avoid her. And if she misspoke even slightly, they’d snap at her. Hmph!

——

Over ten days had passed since the Spring Fair, and various tribes had begun leaving the royal court one after another.

At this gathering, Jiang Congyan’s sugar became a huge hit. Many were eager to trade for it, but her stock was limited, with much already reserved for the noble families she had prior agreements with. Each tribe only managed to secure a small amount, which left them wanting more. They made arrangements to return in a few months for more sugar.

Meanwhile, the tribal leaders were asked by Tuo Baxiao to stay longer, as he had something big to announce.

But that morning, Tuo Baxiao gathered everyone in the royal tent and asked, "The Murong Tribe has rebelled. What are your thoughts?"

The crowd broke into chatter, all condemning Mu Rongqi while also taking the opportunity to vow loyalty, swearing they would never betray the king like Mu Rongqi had.

After days of deliberation, to prevent another incident like the Murong Tribe’s rebellion, Tuo Baxiao declared, "I have decided to appoint the leaders and generals of each tribe."

"Ah?"

"How will these appointments work?"

The crowd grew confused—no one knew how these "appointments" would work.

Tuo Baxiao clapped his hands, and a column of Imperial Guards marched in, carrying trays covered with silk, concealing their contents.

Eyes trailed the trays like sunflowers following the sun, watching as the Imperial Guards placed them on the table before Tuo Baxiao.

He pulled back the silk covering the first tray, revealing gleaming golden seals—some large, some small, each adorned with tassels of different colors.

Next, he revealed another tray, which held a kind of stiff parchment, bound together with thin wooden covers painted in colorful lacquer and inscribed with unfamiliar symbols. The crowd only grew more baffled.

Tuo Baxiao stood, his towering frame radiating authority. Gazing down at the seated leaders, he declared in a deep voice, "The Murong Tribe rebelled because Mu Rongqi harbored disloyal intentions. He seized the position of chieftain from Mu Rongtie without my approval, fueling his ambition and leading him to oppose me."

"From now on, I will never allow such a thing to happen again!"

The leaders murmured agreement. "The king is wise."

They figured Tuo Baxiao had called them to warn them in light of Mu Rongqi’s rebellion. None dared to follow Mu Rongqi’s example—their tribes were small, with populations ranging from a few thousand to a hundred thousand at most. Even the largest could muster only ten or twenty thousand soldiers, lacking sufficient weapons and armor. Challenging the king meant death.

"I’m adopting the Central Plains’ system. From now on, only those who receive my official documents and seals may serve as chieftains. Without these two items, no one may mobilize their people. Any unauthorized actions will be treated as rebellion, and they will die for it."

"This…"

"Do you have objections?" Tuo Baxiao’s glare cut the man off.

"None," the man quickly replied.

On the surface, Tuo Baxiao’s words seemed reasonable—their current positions and authority remained unchanged. Yet, a noose tightening around their necks bound their every move.

When Tuo Bata ruled the Xianbei, he had never imposed such demands. Tribal leaders were traditionally chosen by their own people. They only had to deliver livestock on time and follow Tuo Bata’s orders in war.

But Tuo Baxiao now commanded tens of thousands of elite cavalry, far surpassing any of them in strength. Moreover, shortly after ascending the throne, he had subdued every tribe through force. These leaders were his picks. Whether out of loyalty or fear, none dared to openly oppose him—but unease gnawed at them.

Without further discussion, Tuo Baxiao personally distributed the appointment documents and seals to each leader, one by one.

The first to receive them opened the documents and froze—they couldn’t recognize a single character.

The tent erupted in chatter again as leaders compared their documents with their neighbors. Upon closer inspection, the symbols did seem different, but they couldn’t decipher them. Instead, they were far more fascinated by the golden seals, eagerly examining and admiring them.

Though the seals appeared golden, they were actually cast from bronze and silver, with intricate designs of turtles and camels as knobs—a skill beyond their tribes’ ken.

Rather than symbols of authority, the leaders treated them like children with new toys.

Once everyone had received their documents and seals, someone finally voiced the pressing question.

"King, we cannot read the words on these."

"That brings me to the second matter," Tuo Baxiao replied.

The tent fell silent.

"I, the prince, have decided to promote the use of Chinese characters among the Xianbei," declared Tuoba Wuxi.

The statement was so shocking that the crowd froze in stunned silence, staring at him in disbelief, even questioning whether they had heard correctly.

What did the prince just say? Chinese characters?

Chinese characters? Isn’t that a Han thing? Oh, right—even these things in their hands were also Han inventions.

The spring sunlight streamed through the skylight in the domed ceiling, casting a bright beam that illuminated the upper half of Tuoba Wuxi’s face. His piercing green eyes were so sharp they were almost unbearable to meet, radiating an aggressive and domineering aura that left no one daring to speak first.

"I stand with the prince’s decision."

A clear woman’s voice cut through the silence. All eyes turned to Lan Zhu, who stood up from her seat, standing out prominently among the crowd.

A few frowned. After Tuoba Wuxi was nearly beaten to death and left in a daze, his army had been taken over by Lan Zhu—oh, and Qiu Liju had supposedly helped too. Over the past few months, Lan Zhu had been participating in their discussions, always the first to agree with whatever the prince said.

Lan Zhu had always been close to the Han Khatun, and it was said she was even learning the Han language. Just two days ago, someone had seen her talking at length with a Han person. Had she fully thrown her lot in with the prince? Would the Sixth Prince never be able to regain his standing?

Seeing this, Helan Hun, the leader of the Helan tribe, shot her a sharp look. But she seemed completely oblivious, which only made Helan Hun fume. If not for the crowd separating them, he would have dragged her down himself.

"Lan Zhu!" he scolded harshly, but before he could say more, another person stood up.

"I stand with the prince’s decision," said General Modolou.

Then, a few more scattered individuals stepped forward—upon closer inspection, they were all Tuoba Wuxi’s most loyal followers. Most, however, stayed quiet.

Tuoba Wuxi’s cold gaze swept across the room. "If anyone objects, raise your hand now."

Under such stifling pressure, the leaders of the minor tribes dared not speak up. In the end, it was Helan Hun who broke the silence.

"My prince, forcing us to learn Chinese characters will turn the Xianbei into nothing more than Han subjects."

Tuoba Wuxi scoffed. "The Han’s domain? Who here is Han? Even if you learn Chinese characters, won’t you still be the leaders of the Xianbei? Won’t your people still be Xianbei subjects?"

"But… it’s not the same," Helan Hun protested, sweating profusely, struggling to articulate his unease.

The Xianbei would still be the Xianbei—that much was true. But something about it felt wrong. Only the Han should learn Han ways—the Xianbei shouldn’t be like them.

"Enough. My decision is final. If anyone objects, raise your hand now," Tuoba Wuxi commanded.

His sheer dominance left even dissenters too cowed to speak up. Who knew if speaking out now would earn the prince’s ire and cost them their positions?

The minor tribes didn’t dare resist. Even the Dugu and Yuwen tribes, firmly suppressed north of the Tumochuan, didn’t dare oppose. General Modolou and other direct subordinates followed the prince unconditionally. In the end, just a few dared raise their hands.

Tuoba Wuxi’s gaze lingered on them for a few seconds, causing two of them to lower their hands in fear.

In the end, fewer than a third remained steadfast in their refusal.

"Good. Since most of you agree, the matter is settled. Chinese characters will be promoted," Tuoba Wuxi declared with finality.

The assembly: "..."

As if they had a choice.

After the council disbanded and the crowd dispersed from the royal tent, Helan Hun grabbed Lan Zhu. "Why did you agree with Tuoba Wuxi? Have you forgotten where your loyalties lie?"

Lan Zhu’s face turned stern. "I did this for the future of our tribe. Defying the prince is suicide. Elder Helan, you should see the reality sooner."

Instead of reprimanding her, Helan Hun found himself being lectured. Furious, he gritted his teeth and snorted. "What’s the use arguing with a girl? I’ll go find Tuoba Wuxi. Trusting the army to a girl is madness."

These words struck a chord in Lan Zhu's heart. "What's wrong with being a girl? During last year's heavy snow, he didn’t lift a finger, while I was the one who sought help from the Khatun. I am also Mother’s child. You only acknowledge him and not me, just because I’m a girl and he’s a man."

Helan Hun, embarrassed by her words, brushed past her. "I don’t have time for this."

Watching his retreating figure, Lan Zhu stomped her foot and clenched her fists. "Tch! Ah Yan always says that women are no worse than men. What they can do, I can do too—and I’ll do it even better than all of you!"

Her anger subsided somewhat when she saw the appointment letter and the exquisite golden seal in her arms.

Opening the document, she gazed at the four large characters spelling "Tuo Ba Lan Zhu"—her name. She recognized it; Ah Yan had personally taught her how to write it. Slowly tracing her fingers over the words, she lowered her head and smiled happily. From now on, she was a king-appointed general.

——

Promoting Han characters was a massive undertaking. Even though Tuo Baxiao had laid down the law about this decision, and they had reluctantly agreed under pressure, when it came to actual implementation, there would inevitably be delays and sneaky pushback.

Jiang Congyan had long anticipated this.

Even before the initiative began, rumors about her had resurfaced in the royal court—that she must have bewitched the king into making such a decision, that she wanted to turn the Xianbei into a second Liang State.

As the murmurs spread, the Grand Shaman suddenly announced news: the day before, colorful clouds had appeared, blanketing the Xianbei sky. These clouds were said to be the mounts of immortals, a sign that celestial beings had passed by—an auspicious omen. Seizing the moment, she had sought divine guidance, and the gods declared that the Xianbei King and his queen, in harmony, would ensure the Xianbei’s enduring prosperity and strength.

The divination drew everyone’s attention, reminding them that Jiang Congyan had once forged the golden idols—she was chosen by the heavens. If the gods favored the Xianbei, how could someone they approved of bring harm to them? Especially those who had witnessed the sacred event firsthand were now in awe of her, no longer daring to spread gossip.

With the rumor storm quelled, Jiang Congyan was getting things rolling for promoting Han characters when Si Zi rushed in panicking.

"My lady, something terrible has happened!"

Jiang Congyan’s hand stilled, her hair standing on end. Just hearing those words made her feel like things were about to go south.

"What now?"

"General Su Li and the Third Prince are at each other’s throats—he says he’s going to kill the prince!"

"..."

Seriously? Is fighting all they do these days?