Chapter 147 “Dance for me again, let me see…”

Chapter 147 "Dance for me again…"

Zhang Fu stammered, unsure what to say.

Tuo Baxiao found it even more peculiar. Suspecting the worst, his expression darkened. "Has her condition worsened again?"

"N-no, it’s not that!" Zhang Fu hurriedly denied.

"Then what is it?"

Tuo Baxiao was already much taller than the average man. Looming in the doorway like a mountain, he blocked most of the light. Zhang Fu, of only slightly above-average height, cowered in his shadow like a trembling insect.

He fumbled for words, avoiding eye contact. Tuo Baxiao’s concern only intensified his intimidating aura, and Zhang Fu, sweating bullets under the pressure, broke into a cold sweat down his back.

"I-I just came for a routine checkup," he finally managed to blurt out as an excuse.

"Well? What did you find?" Tuo Baxiao demanded coldly.

"It was just a sudden episode last night. She’s fine now." As he spoke, his guilt was palpable, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Zhang Fu thought to himself—if the Prince of Mobei ever learned the truth, he would have his head on a pike before sundown.

"Really?" Tuo Baxiao narrowed his eyes. He found it odd—if she had truly improved, why did Zhang Fu still look so uneasy?

The question nearly sent Zhang Fu to his knees. His mind raced—had the Prince overheard anything? Surely not, right?

"My lord, you’re back?" Jiang Congyan stepped out from the inner chamber.

Hearing their conversation, she realized Zhang Fu might crack under further questioning.

Tuo Baxiao instinctively turned toward her, walking over to embrace her as he acknowledged her with a hum.

Jiang Congyan then shot Zhang Fu a meaningful glance. Understanding, he seized the chance to slip away, bolting like a spooked rabbit.

"Are you truly alright?" Tuo Baxiao frowned, still uneasy at her pallor. "That self-styled ‘miracle worker’ can’t even properly treat you. Didn’t you say he prepared those tonic pills for you? What good are they?"

Jiang Congyan’s heart skipped a beat, but she only smiled. "I was much weaker as a child. Over the years, I’ve improved greatly—all thanks to him and his father."

"What brought you back from outside?" She deftly shifted the topic.

Tuo Baxiao hesitated. He knew telling her would only make her worry, but under her wide, pleading eyes, he found it impossible to refuse.

"Nothing major. Rouran is on the verge of collapse against the Xiongnu. I saw this coming," he said casually.

Jiang Congyan slowly lowered her lashes.

Back in March, Rouran had sent emissaries to the Xianbei court, and Tuo Baxiao had considered aiding them militarily. But Aona’s insolence had rubbed him the wrong way, leading to talks falling apart. Of course, Rouran’s own indecisiveness and lack of sincerity were also to blame.

The Xiongnu’s war with Rouran was a golden opportunity for the Xianbei. A strike now would catch the Xiongnu off guard. However, the Murong Tribe’s rebellion and Kediyan’s uprising had thrown a wrench in those plans. Though the rebellions had since been quelled, they couldn’t let their guard down to prevent resurgence.

Tuo Baxiao certainly wasn’t afraid of the Xiongnu, but the question was whether the campaign was worth the cost.

For the past two years, his focus had been on consolidating Xianbei’s strength and reinforcing internal rule rather than outward expansion.

In her heart, Jiang Congyan wished he would attack the Xiongnu. Left unchecked, their growing power might still doom the Central Plains.

Yet she also thought—what difference would a year or two of peace make for Liang State? If the state couldn’t stand on its own, it would still meet its ruin. It was the common folk who’d pay the price.

After two days of deliberation with his advisors, Tuo Baxiao decided to send a scouting force to test the waters. But just as troops were being mobilized, new reports arrived—

Wudati Hou took advantage of the Xiongnu's attack on Rouran to unite with the nobles who supported him and launched a surprise rebellion, capturing the Xiongnu royal court, killing the khan and other princes. He also falsified the old khan's decree to execute the general Zhuri Qu, who was fighting abroad, plunging the Xiongnu army into chaos. Seizing the opportunity, he appointed his loyalists to take control of 50,000 Xiongnu cavalry. By the time others realized the truth, it was too late—Wudati Hou had already secured control over the royal court and the majority of the military.

He then widely proclaimed that once he ascended the throne, he would immediately march south. Those who followed him would gain endless wealth, grain, and women in the future.

The Xiongnu had been struggling in recent years, and with internal issues unresolved, their only option was external expansion. Earlier in the year, the old khan’s decision to attack Rouran instead of Liang State had already caused discontent. Though they had seized some livestock and land from Rouran, these gains were a pittance compared to their coveted prize—the rich and fertile Central Plains. Now, Wudati Hou’s promise to march south aligned perfectly with the aspirations of most Xiongnu, who swiftly recognized his rule.

Wudati Hou was exceptionally capable, having faced no equal but Tuo Baxiao. The Xiongnu cavalry under his command had crushed neighboring tribes, and the small states of the Western Regions had long lived under his looming threat. The Xiongnu deeply respected his prowess.

Humiliated by Tuo Baxiao’s forced "leap into the Yellow River" (a cultural reference to extreme humiliation), he suppressed his hatred and lay in wait for over a year, finally seizing the opportunity to claim the throne.

With the internal power shift among the Xiongnu, their attack on Rouran ceased, granting Rouran a brief respite. However, for the Xianbei, this situation was no better than before.

From this point onward, the two most formidable rulers of the steppe would officially clash, marking the beginning of their struggle for supremacy.

"Wudati Hou has just seized the throne—the Xiongnu royal court must still be in chaos. Isn’t this the ideal moment to strike?" He Lanhu suggested.

After careful consideration, Tuo Baxiao rejected the idea.

It was only early August, and by September, the northern lands would be covered in snow. Freezing temperatures would cripple military operations, and he had no certainty of completely defeating the Xiongnu within just one or two months.

A single battle would be meaningless, only bleeding the Xianbei dry—especially after this year’s internal strife had already drained much of their strength.

There was another reason, too.

Wudati Hou had vowed to march south and attack Liang State. Tuo Baxiao held no goodwill toward either the Xiongnu or Liang State. If the two were to fight, he was curious to see the outcome.

Jiang Congyan glimpsed the man’s thoughts but could not persuade him otherwise. Not only had the event not yet occurred, but even if Wudati Hou did march south, it would be understandable for Tuo Baxiao not to intervene.

The three powers now stood at a precarious equilibrium. The moment one actively disrupted it, the ensuing situation would collapse like dominoes. Change was coming, rushing toward everyone.

Amidst the external turmoil, daily life continued internally.

This year’s harvest was far greater than last year’s, especially in Tumochuan, which yielded three million dan of wheat (approximately 180 million liters). A substantial amount of grain was stockpiled.

Tribes like the Tiefu had only begun cultivating fields this year, producing less but equaled their herds' yield. This gave locals confidence that continued farming next year would only increase their grain supply.

Thus, even if the weather turned harsh in the coming years, the Xianbei could rely on these reserves to survive.

Beyond grain, progress was also made in coal and iron mining. The exploration team discovered several rich deposits, and after careful assessment, detailed extraction plans were drawn up. Workers were already being mobilized to begin operations. Workshops expanded continuously, especially for carpenters and masons, who were in high demand. Papermaking and printing also flourished.

After Tuo Baxiao officially announced the adoption of Chinese characters, Jiang Congyan required each tribe to send anywhere from dozens to over a hundred children under ten years old—depending on population—to the royal court or Tumochuan to learn Chinese. Slaves were forbidden; only children from middle-ranking noble families or higher were permitted. Many were reluctant, with some unwilling to part with their sons and instead sending daughters, exploiting the vague wording—she had only specified "children," not gender.

This turned out to be a fortunate accident.

Jiang Congyan was delighted. As long as girls did not exceed sixty percent of the total, she accepted them all.

Seeing this, others followed suit, resulting in slightly more girls than boys among the enrolled students.

The Xianbei nobles never imagined that she had already decided to prioritize those who could speak and write Chinese for future appointments and official positions.

The royal court enrolled over 2,000 children, while Tumochuan took in nearly 1,000. Separated from their homelands and with no relatives in the royal court, Jiang Congyan arranged unified accommodations for them.

She did not divide them by tribe but instead grouped them by age, with the oldest being ten and the youngest just five.

These Xianbei children, accustomed to freedom at home, struggled to adapt to school life. Despite Jiang Congyan’s strict school rules, conflicts arose endlessly, and many rebellious youths tested her patience for a while.

She tackled problems one by one, and after months of chaos, order finally took hold.

Though the teachers from Liangzhou were knowledgeable, their Xianbei language skills were lacking. She put A Chun in charge and also brought in Han Chinese aides from the Jie community to assist.

The Henei region had been a mixed settlement of Han and Hu people for decades, bordering Xianbei territory. Many Han Chinese had also learned the Jie language. The Jie language is quite similar to Xianbei, both evolving from the Donghu language family, allowing for basic communication without issues.

Things were settling into a routine.

The year had mostly slipped by, and as September approached, one evening after dinner just before resting, Jiang Congyan remembered Tuo Baxiao's birthday was coming up. She asked him, "Your birthday's in a month. Want anything special for it?"

"A gift?"

"Yeah," she said. "Well... I haven't figured out your present yet. If there's something you want, you can tell me."

It wasn’t that she truly had no idea what to give. She believed he would accept anything she offered, surely saying he liked it, but she thought it would be better to give him something he genuinely desired.

"Anything?" Tuo Baxiao perked up at this, propped up on an elbow to look at her.

Having been tricked last year, Jiang Congyan hedged: "Nothing too outrageous."

Tuo Baxiao chuckled, also recalling what had happened around this time last year.

"What counts as 'too outrageous'?" He leaned closer, his rugged face suddenly close, his warm breath brushing her face.

"Was getting a new bed too outrageous?" His fingers lightly traced her cheek, his voice laced with teasing amusement.

Jiang Congyan glared at him, her look saying plainly, "You know what you did after that."

Tuo Baxiao watched as her beautiful eyes widened, all wary defiance, like a snow-white cat uneasy about the approaching wolf yet refusing to back down—utterly adorable.

He crushed his lips against hers. "There actually is something I’d like for my birthday."

"What?" Jiang Congyan tensed slightly.

"Would you dance for me again?"

Jiang Congyan froze. That was all he wanted?