Chapter 161 “Flay Him.”

Chapter 161: "Skin Him Alive."

The backyard of the Governor's residence.

Jiang Congyan returned once more to the small courtyard where she had been confined before. This place had been her prison, but now, with chaos and turmoil everywhere, this little courtyard was strangely quieter than the rest. Moreover, its furnishings were relatively complete, saving her the trouble of extra cleanup.

Dawn had just broken. After a night of scheming and maneuvering, standing for hours in the bitter cold, Jiang Congyan had suffered greatly from the chill. The cold, compounded by blood loss, had drained all color from her already deathly pale lips. Her cheeks were ashen, like a lifeless doll.

Tuo Baxiao carried her into the house, while her maidservants, Yun Duo and Lu Zhu, got to work—one lighting a charcoal brazier, the other boiling water.

When Tuo Baxiao saw the gruesome wound on her arm, he felt that the deaths of Zhao Shi and his son had been far too merciful. Not even flaying them alive and grinding their bones to dust would be enough to quell the hatred in his heart.

Once the brazier was lit, warming the surroundings, the medic was summoned.

The medic was an apprentice of Zhang Fu, having studied under him for several years. Though not as skilled as Zhang Fu in medical theory, she was competent enough in treating common ailments.

Tuo Baxiao removed Jiang Congyan’s outer garments, exposing the gruesome wound on her snow-white arm again. His expression darkened, a murderous glint in his eyes.

The gash on her arm was three to four inches long. Fortunately, the thick winter clothing had provided an extra layer of protection, preventing damage to the bone or tendons. Still, the skin had split open, drenching half her sleeve with blood. It might even leave a scar.

Jiang Congyan gave it a quick glance before looking away. After a moment, she noticed the medic hesitating, too afraid to approach. Only then did she realize how terrifyingly intense the man beside her looked—his veins bulging, his murderous vibe practically tangible. No wonder the medic was frightened.

"Maybe you should step aside for a bit. Otherwise, Su Ye won’t dare come near me."

Tuo Baxiao didn’t move.

Left with no choice, Jiang Congyan reassured Su Ye with a few words, urging her to proceed as normal.

Su Ye had no choice but to brace herself and get to work.

Perhaps due to the earlier tension and the freezing cold, Jiang Congyan’s arm had gone numb, devoid of sensation. But now, with her mind at ease and the room warmed by the brazier, the pain began to seep through—sharp and unrelenting. As Su Ye cleaned the clotted blood from the wound, the pain made Jiang Congyan gasp sharply, her features contorting. Veins bulged faintly under her pale forehead.

Seeing her in such agony, Tuo Baxiao turned his head and barked, "Be gentle!"

Su Ye jumped at his sudden shout, her hands frozen mid-air, unsure if she should proceed.

Jiang Congyan was fed up. Using her uninjured left hand, she gave him a weak pinch and scolded, "Enough. Don’t make things worse." Then, to Su Ye, she said, "Keep going."

The wound was too long. To aid healing, it needed to be sewn up.

"My lady, this will hurt," Su Ye said.

Jiang Congyan nodded.

Su Ye first took out a bottle of medicinal powder from her kit, dissolving it in a special solvent before soaking a cloth and gently applying it to the wound.

At first, it stung sharply, but soon a dull numbness set in.

This was a special anesthetic prepared by Zhang Yuan. Applied to wounds, it could temporarily numb the area and alleviate pain, though its effects were nowhere near as strong as modern drugs. Excessive use was inadvisable, as many numbing agents contained toxic properties.

After letting the anesthetic take effect, Su Ye quickly began sewing up the wound.

Even so, the pain forced cold sweat to bead on Jiang Congyan’s forehead. Gritting her teeth, she clenched Tuo Baxiao’s hand with her left hand, barely managing to stay still.

Tuo Baxiao was equally distressed, sweating anxiously, wishing he could suffer in her stead—but that was impossible.

By the time the stitching and bandaging were done, Jiang Congyan was nearly drained of strength, sagging weakly against him.

Si Zi brought hot water, and Tuoba Xiao cleaned Jiang Congyan up before changing her clothes. Jiang Congyan was on the verge of collapse, enduring a while longer until the medicine arrived. After drinking it, her consciousness grew hazy.

Tuoba Xiao laid her on the bed, tucked her in, and warmed her icy hands and feet with a hot water bottle.

"Sleep," he said, his voice softening at once.

Having been held captive in Guyuan for days, Jiang Congyan had not stopped exhausting her mind and strength, nor had she slept well once. She had to outmaneuver Zhao Cuo’s schemes, lulling him into lowering his guard while analyzing the situation and opportunities from his words and expressions. Tonight’s assassination had danced on the knife’s edge between life and death—had she or Zhang Yan made even the slightest misstep, it would have cost them their lives. Only now, staring into his familiar, reassuring face, could she finally let go completely.

Her eyelids drooped heavily, her gaze blurring before finally closing entirely as she sank into deep slumber.

Tuoba Xiao sat by the bed, watching her sleep. His gaze lingered on her frail, pale face for a long time, motionless. The dim light from outside the window outlined the sharp, unyielding profile of his face.

The first time he had felt this bone-deep dread was when she was abducted by Wudati Hou. Now, he experienced it again—even more intensely.

The moment he saw her being marched onto the city walls by the Liang army, he realized with searing clarity that he could not bear the consequences of losing her.

He did not hesitate, decisively choosing to withdraw his troops.

Even if it were not just one city but ten, he would have let them all go. Cities could be retaken—he was confident he could reclaim them. But she was the only one. If something happened to her…

If he lost her, there would never be another woman like her in this world.

During those moments when their eyes met, a near-unthinkable thought had crossed his mind—if this was her choice, if she wished to help the Liang reclaim the city, he would give it to her if she asked. As long as she would return to his side.

He was startled by his own thoughts. After his mother’s death, his life had seemed to have only one purpose: to grow stronger, endlessly stronger. Once he had finally butchered every last one who’d humiliated his mother, his goal shifted from strength to conquering the world.

Beyond that, he had no other desires. Wine was merely an occasional indulgence; lust was a taboo he despised; wealth was nothing more than a tool to reward his subordinates. Only when surveying the endless realm did he feel he had a purpose.

But now, he had a clearer, more profound realization—he needed her beside him, unharmed, accompanying him for a lifetime. Having tasted joy and light, how could he endure loneliness and darkness again?

Tuoba Xiao watched her peaceful sleeping face for a long time. The daylight streamed in from behind him, casting his tall figure into a silhouette, a statue hewn from light and shadow.

Then, at some point, Lingxiao, curled in the corner, suddenly let out a sound.

"Yo."

Tuoba Xiao jerked from his reverie, blinking slowly before his emerald eyes glinted like a blade’s edge.

He stood abruptly and strode outside.

The courtyard was swarming with guards. After barking orders at the maids to take good care of her, Tuoba Xiao left the compound.

He hailed A Long to inquire about the situation. The night had passed without a full-scale battle—only the Xianbei Army’s entry into the city had caused casualties. Most of the remaining forces had surrendered before they could even join the fight.

A Long reported the general situation to the king and added, "My king, I’ve ordered all of Zhao’s trusted followers to be bound and placed in the main street outside. Do you wish to deal with them personally?"

Tuoba Xiao glanced at him.

Though his expression remained impassive, A Long detected something akin to approval in his gaze and inwardly praised his own quick thinking.

Though the Khatun had promised the Liang generals not to slaughter surrendered soldiers, Zhao had used poison to kidnap her—he was guilty as sin. Naturally, his followers would also bear the king’s wrath.

Tuoba Xiao strode out of the government office in large, urgent steps. In moments, he saw Zhao’s followers strewn like refuse on the ground, bound hand and foot.

At the sight of Tuoba Xiao, they grew agitated, babbling pleas for mercy and insisting that Zhao Bian and Zhao Cuo were to blame—they’d never meant to turn traitor.

Tuoba Xiao drowned them out entirely.

"Put every last one to the sword," he uttered, voice like ice. "Spare no one."

Upon hearing this, those men knew their fate was sealed and began cursing Tuo Baxiao incessantly.

"You promised not to kill surrendered soldiers! Tuo Baxiao, you go back on your word!"

"Barbarians—can’t trust a single one of them! We never should have trusted him from the start."

"Tuo Baxiao, you’ll get yours sooner or later!"

"I curse you to die without heirs—"

Tuo Baxiao watched coldly, unmoved.

The Xianbei soldiers stepped forward with their blades, and heads rolled one after another.

Some were too terrified to speak, while others only cursed more viciously.

"Women are spineless—marry a man and lose yourself. Princess You’an ditched her royal blood the second she married, even helping a barbarian seize Liang's cities and lured us into surrender with lies. If we had known it would come to this, we should have—"

Tuo Baxiao had initially ignored their insults, but the moment someone mentioned Jiang Congyan, his expression darkened, his green eyes burning with murderous rage.

A Long braced for disaster—but it was already too late. He could only shrink back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

With a wave of Tuo Baxiao’s hand, the Xianbei soldiers paused their executions, awaiting their lord’s order.

"Who just said that?" His voice cut like a knife at their throats.

Many had been cursing, and no one could pin down which insult set him off. Even if they did, since they were doomed anyway, why satisfy him by pointing it out?

As for the Xianbei soldiers nearby, most didn’t understand Han speech and couldn’t identify the culprit.

"Who mentioned the princess?" Tuo Baxiao demanded again, leaning forward slightly, poised to explode.

The silence turned lethal. The Zhao clan’s followers and relatives, cowed by his aura, fell silent, their curses dying on their lips.

"No one admits it? Fine. Then strip the flesh from every last one of them!"

At this, their faces drained of blood. Though death was inevitable, a clean death beat being flayed.

Finally, someone, scrambling to remember who’d spoken, pointed. "It was one of them."

Those accused hastily denied it.

"Not me—it was him, Zhao Chong!"

"Yes, he was the one who mentioned the princess. The rest of us said nothing."

Good. They’d fingered the guilty man.

Tuo Baxiao’s lips curled, and he ordered Zhao Chong to be dragged forward.

"Flay him," he said, ice-cold. "Keep him breathing through it."

Zhao Chong had never imagined that a single sentence would bring such calamity upon him. Too late for regrets—he could only seethe at his own helplessness. Determined to curse with his dying breath, he spat out a few words before A Long moved on reflex, lunging forward and clamping a hand over Zhao Chong’s throat. "Shut him up—now!" A Long shouted to the others. If this man uttered another insult against the Khatun, the king might not stop at flaying just him.

With Zhao Chong’s mouth firmly gagged and his clothes stripped off, the butchers moved in.

The Xianbei were experts at carving meat—human or otherwise, always carrying small knives on them. Slicing a man was no different.

The knives flashed, stripping flesh in ribbons. Zhao Chong soon became a screaming, flayed thing. Gagged, he couldn’t even scream, only writhing with muffled groans, his eyes near bursting. He looked like a damned soul suffering the torments of hell—a nightmare made real.

The street in front of the governor's mansion was soon turned into a river of blood. The weather was so cold that the warm blood quickly congealed on the ground, leaving dark, splattered stains that added a grotesque splash of color to the bleak winter day.

"A voice suddenly rang out: "I have something to say! Besides Zhao Bian, the ringleader of the Guyuan plot was his advisor Jia Gong. That man has probably already fled."

If they were all going to die anyway, none of the culprits should escape—especially those responsible for their current plight.

Another rat on the loose?

Tuo Baxiao's jade-green eyes turned icy. "Guards!"

He immediately ordered a dragnet across the city for Jia Gong, promising heavy rewards for his capture.

When Zhao Bian died the previous night, Jia Gong, seeing the writing on the wall, went into hiding. As soon as Zhang Yan led his men in, he bolted at the first chance.

He rushed straight for the city gates, trying to slip out before the city caught on. But he hadn’t anticipated the Xianbei Army storming in at that very moment, sparking a bloody melee at the gates.

A bookish man with no fighting prowess, he dared not charge into the fray. Left with no choice, he sought another hiding spot, intending to ride out the storm. However, Jiang Congyan then ordered a complete lockdown of the city, trapping him inside.

Tuo Baxiao commanded a full-scale search, and within half a day, Jia Gong was captured.

Dragged before Tuo Baxiao, he crumpled into a sniveling heap, weeping and begging for mercy. "Zhao Bian forced my hand! He saw how valiant the Prince of Mobei was, seizing multiple cities from the Xiongnu, and feared punishment upon returning to Chang’an for his own lack of merit. That’s why he devised this vile scheme! I was just a pawn! If the Prince of Mobei spares my life, I’ll serve you loyally!"

Suppressing his killing intent, Tuo Baxiao interrogated him about the entire plan. Jia Gong sang like a canary. When he revealed that Zhao Bian had intercepted the Imperial Guard delivering Zhang Yan’s letter and forged his handwriting to deceive her, Tuo Baxiao even felt a surge of fury at Zhang Yan—misguided as it was—if he hadn’t written that letter, she wouldn’t have suffered this ordeal.

But this was his own obsession speaking. Even without Zhang Yan’s letter, Zhao Bian could have obtained his handwriting through other means.

After Jia Gong finished his confession word for word, he looked up nervously, hoping for leniency.

Under his hopeful gaze, Tuo Baxiao turned away, uttering only one sentence: "Strip the flesh from his bones."

Jia Gong went white as a sheet upon hearing this.

A Long, now well-practiced, immediately stepped forward to gag him before summoning the executioners.

Next, Tuo Baxiao went to the prisoner camp and pulled out Zhao Cuo’s ambush team.

"Wipe them out," he commanded.

Instead of executing them outside the city, he had it done in front of the other prisoners.

He wanted the entire world to know the consequences of crossing him.

The ambush party numbered over a thousand. Combined with the Zhao loyalists executed earlier, the death toll neared two thousand.

Two thousand was not a staggering figure on the battlefield—casualties in major battles often exceeded that. But these were prisoners.

And Tuo Baxiao wasn’t satisfied yet. He ordered their heads piled together, creating a Jingguan—a sight to curdle the blood.

Compared to historical Jingguan structures that numbered in the tens of thousands, his was small potatoes. But for the Liang soldiers who witnessed it, the sight was a potent deterrent.

Tuo Baxiao itched to butcher every Liang soldier in the city, but he had promised her not to kill indiscriminately. So he suppressed his bloodlust.

If any Liang troops dared to conspire or rebel, these skulls would be their fate.

As soon as this was done, General Modolou reported that scouts had spotted Zhou Hong’s army just fifty li outside the city, expected to reach Guyuan by the next day.

Jiang Congyan had kept a lid on the news precisely to trap Zhou Hong as well.

Tuo Baxiao summoned Zhang Zheng, General Modolou, and Chigan Balie, racing through their orders.

By the time everything was settled, it was already late at night. Tuo Baxiao returned to the small courtyard, where Jiang Congyan still hadn’t woken up.

She was exhausted, finally able to get some proper rest, so he didn’t wake her.

Aside from the sword wound on her arm, she had also caught a chill and was now running a low fever, so he had to keep giving her medicine.

Earlier that day, Si Zi had tried to feed her some medicine but couldn’t get much into her. Tuo Baxiao had her bring the medicine over and personally fed Jiang Congyan a full bowl. He then stayed by her side for half the night, making sure her fever didn’t spike before finally holding her and sleeping for just over an hour.

She hadn’t slept well, and neither had he. He only forced himself to sleep when utterly exhausted, but even then, nightmares would jolt him awake. Waking up to endless darkness, the loneliness and torment nearly drove him mad.

Even now, with her in his arms, he still felt uneasy, fearing this might all be a dream.

*This isn’t a dream, he told himself.*

—

Jiang Congyan slept for a full day and night. When she finally awoke, the room was dimly lit, making it impossible to tell the time.

Si Zi had been keeping watch and exclaimed happily, "My lady, you’re awake!"

She knew her lady would be fine, but sleeping for so long had still been worrying.

Jiang Congyan’s thoughts were still hazy, taking a while to fully clear. *Tuo Baxiao is here. Guyuan is safe now.*

She had Si Zi help her sit up. The moment she left the warmth of the blankets, the chill in the air made her shiver. Si Zi quickly draped a cloak, warmed over a brazier, over her shoulders.

"I want water," Jiang Congyan said, feeling parched.

Si Zi hurriedly poured a bowl of warm water for her.

After drinking the entire bowl, Jiang Congyan finally satisfied her thirst and asked, "That long? Has Zhou Hong arrived?"

"Not yet. Yesterday’s report said he was still fifty miles away."

Tuo Baxiao wasn’t in the courtyard, and Jiang Congyan guessed he was likely preparing for Zhou Hong’s arrival. It was still early morning—if Zhou Hong made good time, he wouldn’t arrive until the afternoon. There was still time.

Her injury was only on her arm. Though the low fever left her body weak and sore, it wasn’t too severe. She could still manage on her own. After getting out of bed, she washed up and took care of necessities, then changed clothes. Si Zi brought her a bowl of hot porridge and medicine, followed by Su Ye, who came to change her bandages.

Once everything was done, Jiang Congyan asked what happened in the city afterward.

"After the Liang troops surrendered, the Prince confiscated their weapons and armor, locked them up together, and had Zhang Zheng, General Modolou, and the Eldest Young Master take over the city’s defenses. As you instructed, the news was also sealed... That advisor of Zhao Bian’s, Jia Gong, tried to flee, but the Prince caught him and had him publicly skinned alive—" Si Zi suddenly stopped, glancing cautiously at her lady.

"Go on," Jiang Congyan said, her expression unchanging.

The maids knew she disliked brutal punishments that showed no mercy, but sometimes, a show of ruthlessness was necessary—especially in these chaotic times. Otherwise, people would think you were weak.

"After that, the Prince also ordered the execution of all of Zhao Shi’s relatives and trusted followers, along with the troops who ambushed you... and then he had their heads..."

"What?" Jiang Congyan had a vague premonition.

"He had their heads stacked into a pyramid," Si Zi’s voice dropped to a whisper.

Just as she finished speaking, heavy, deliberate footsteps sounded outside. Recognizing who it was, Si Zi looked up—sure enough, it was the Prince of Mobei. Realizing the danger, she hurried away.

The moment Jiang Congyan woke, someone had gone to inform Tuo Baxiao. After receiving the news, he swiftly issued a few orders before rushing back. He hadn’t expected to overhear this.

He was bold in his actions and unafraid to admit them, not feeling the least bit wrong about what he had done. Yet, when he met her gaze, he felt an inexplicable pang of guilt.

He knew she would disapprove of what he had done.

Only the two of them remained in the room now—one standing, one sitting—and a brief silence hung between them.

“You already know?”

“Zhou Hong’s army is about to arrive, isn’t it?”

Their eyes met, and they spoke at the same time.

Tuo Baxiao relaxed. He stepped forward, sat facing her, and took her hand.

“You don’t blame me?”

But even if she did, it was too late.

His hands were usually warm, but now, having just returned from outside, they were cold and stiff from the chill.

Jiang Congyan placed his hand over the brazier, letting the heat of the charcoal gradually dispel the cold.

“If I had been awake, I would’ve stopped you. But since it’s already happened, I won’t hold it against you,” she said.

Tuo Baxiao’s mood lifted, pulling her into his arms and kissing her cheek.

“But you should bury the heads. I don’t want this to deepen the rift between you and the Liang people,” Jiang Congyan murmured.

Throughout history, the Han people had slaughtered each other in far more brutal ways countless times. But they were Han—no matter how deep the conflict, it could eventually fade. Tuo Baxiao, however, represented the Xianbei now. Even minor actions would be twisted into acts of brutality, and the hatred of the Han people would be directed entirely at him. That would only hurt him, especially if they were to enter the Central Plains in the future…

“Alright,” Tuo Baxiao agreed without hesitation.

——

Acting on Zhao Bian’s orders, Zhou Hong led thirty thousand troops to reinforce the city. After three days of marching, they finally arrived outside Guyuan’s walls.