Chapter 165 Contraception?

Chapter 165 Contraception?

"Alright, first sort and categorize these patient records and prescriptions. Give them to me in a couple of days, and I'll review and filter them again." Zhang Fu coughed lightly, giving the orders casually, as if nothing were unusual.

"Yes."

The disciples all left the room. A boy of about sixteen or seventeen lingered at the back, sneaking a glance back.

Hasha had noticed that after picking up the prescription, Zhang Fu hadn’t returned it to the book or placed it with the others. Instead, he had slipped it into his robe.

This was strange behavior. Zhang Fu ran his clinic openly, never holding back knowledge from his disciples—he even taught them everything he knew. If they encountered difficult cases while treating patients, he was always eager to help. So why was he being so secretive about one prescription? Like it was something to hide.

What could it be?

Once you noticed something, the oddities stood out.

Two days later, an emergency patient arrived at the clinic. The junior disciples, still green, couldn’t handle it and hurried to fetch Zhang Fu.

At this, Zhang Fu dropped everything and rushed out.

The clinic had a front hall and a back courtyard. The front hall was where patients were seen and medicine was dispensed, while the back courtyard served as the living quarters for Zhang Fu, his disciples, and the medicine assistants.

Apart from the consultation area and the main pharmacy in the front hall, there was also a small pharmacy belonging to Zhang Fu. He usually studied illnesses and organized medical records here, and most of his medical texts and prescriptions were stored in this room.

Once Zhang Fu left, the small pharmacy was empty. And since he had departed in a hurry, the room was left unlocked.

Hasha glanced around. Most people were occupied with their own tasks, and no one was paying attention to him. He slipped into the room, scanning the piles of books and papers, then flipping through them.

When the prescription had fluttered to the floor, he’d glimpsed the paper—slightly yellowed, no more than five inches long, with a blot of ink in the middle.

Listening for any movement outside, he searched through the papers. But even after searching the whole room, he couldn’t find that prescription.

Not here?

Hasha thought back. That day, Zhang Fu had tucked the paper into his robe—perhaps he had kept it on him.

Had he taken it to his room? It wasn’t impossible.

Hasha retreated from the small pharmacy, discreetly observing the commotion in the front hall. Zhang Fu was still administering acupuncture to the patient, and from the looks of it, he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. The others were either busy with their own work or gathered around to observe and learn. If he went to the rear courtyard now…

It was a gamble worth taking.

He had a hunch he’d find something.

In his nearly two years at the clinic, this was the first time he’d had such an intuition.

Without hesitating for long, Hasha turned and headed for the rear courtyard.

Zhang Fu was not one for extravagance. His lifestyle was simple, and since he had no wife or children, his apprentices handled most minor tasks. As a result, he didn’t keep many servants around. At the moment, only an elderly servant was sweeping snow in the courtyard.

Seeing Hasha, the old servant asked, "Why are you here? The master isn’t home."

Hasha kept his cool and nodded. "I know. The master sent me to fetch something."

He was part of the group of apprentices Zhang Fu had taken in after arriving in Xianbei two years prior. Quick-witted and a fast learner, he was one of the more favored disciples. The old servant recognized him and, hearing his explanation, let him pass.

The moment he stepped inside, Hasha’s expression changed. He glanced back at the old servant in the courtyard—still sweeping snow, oblivious to him—then quietly closed the door and began searching the room with light steps.

Found it.

He found a small box inside a cabinet, and the prescription was hidden within it.

Besides the previous one, there were actually other prescriptions; their paper appeared newer. Additionally, there were several ceramic bottles—two empty and one still containing pills.

His heart pounded wildly, and he could barely breathe. It seemed he had stumbled upon an extremely important secret. Reining in his excitement, Hasa pulled out paper and a charcoal pencil from his robe and copied the prescriptions.

He was a pure-blooded Xianbei, and by all rights, he shouldn’t have known Han script. But he was different—he had lived in the Central Plains for a time as a child.

After copying the prescriptions and returning the papers, he wavered briefly before finally making up his mind and pocketing one of the pills from the ceramic bottle.

Taking the pill might be discovered, but the risk was worth it.

"Hasa, did you find what the master wanted?" the elderly servant called from the courtyard, footsteps growing closer.

"Found it, found it! I’ll take it to the master right away." In a panic, Hasa hastily returned the box to its place, feigned retrieving an item, and tucked the copied papers into his robe before stepping out.

Leaving the backyard, he suppressed his anxiety and busied himself with the day’s tasks. Only by nightfall did he finally have the chance to study the prescriptions he had copied.

Upon reading them, he frowned in puzzlement. Based on his basic grasp of remedies, these weren’t poison prescriptions—they seemed more like birth-blocking formulas. Another one appeared similar, though its effects were milder.

Was a birth-preventing formula worth Zhang Fu’s secrecy?

He took out the pill and smelled it—probably brewed according to the second prescription.

Hasa couldn’t fathom the implications but kept his doubts to himself. Patiently waiting for several more days, he finally found an opportunity to meet his master.

His master had warned him to be extremely cautious from then on, avoiding unnecessary meetings. But Hasa believed this discovery would be of great importance to his master.

Under the cover of night, he slipped out unnoticed, the darkness and snowstorm serving as his best concealment.

He arrived at a hidden hut, unlit, making it difficult to discern even the other’s features despite their proximity. Yet, Hasa could sense his master’s eager anticipation.

"You’ve done well," came the voice of a young man, likely no older than thirty, his tone deceptively cultured.

Hasa fought back his exhilaration—his hunch had been right. He had uncovered something crucial, though he didn’t yet grasp its full implications. Judging by his master’s reaction, his intuition had proven correct.

Fearing detection, their meeting was brief.

After Hasa left, the man’s features remained veiled in shadow, only his eyes gleaming with ambition.

Zhang Fu was her agent. If Zhang Fu was hiding something so carefully, it could only be related to her.

Birth-preventing medicine?

If Tuoba Xiaoxiao had other women, her actions might have been to ward off rivals and secure her position. But from the beginning, Tuoba Xiaoxiao had only ever had her. Who else would she be giving these pills to, if not herself?

The man chuckled. No wonder Tuoba Xiaoxiao still had no heir—not even a rumor of pregnancy had surfaced. Their Khatun simply didn’t want it.

Everyone praised the deep affection between the king and his Khatun. Who would have guessed that the gentle, beautiful, and widely admired Khatun was secretly ordering her physician to prepare birth-blocking medicine?

Then again, she was a highborn Han Princess—she probably disdained the idea of bearing a child mingled with barbarian blood.

Poor Tuoba Xiaoxiao, who had given his heart and soul for his woman, even willing to forsake cities for her. If he learned of this, he would surely be driven mad with fury.

The man eagerly anticipated the outcome.

But he couldn’t rush. Such a rare opportunity might never come again. He needed to plan meticulously.

Since returning to the tribal court, apart from the initial half-month of busyness with accumulated matters awaiting their attention, things had become much more leisurely afterward.

Now that the weather was so cold, everyone stayed indoors for the winter, with even some workshops and factories partially shut down. There really wasn’t much to do beyond monitoring for any major disasters in various regions.

Jiang Congyan also avoided going out unless necessary, spending her days in the study warmed by a heated floor, reviewing project reports, financial taxes, and regional updates, reading books, and practicing calligraphy... except that a certain man, whenever he had free time, would pester her nonstop—nestling close, kissing here, pinching there—like a clingy, overgrown puppy.

If he only bothered her at night, fine, but even in broad daylight, how could he act like this every day?

She couldn’t fight him off, and every time she scowled and scolded him, the man would look at her with such puppy-dog eyes, as if she had said something terribly harsh, making it impossible for her to continue.

She figured he was just bored.

Jiang Congyan had no choice but to find a way to divert his attention. "How about I teach you calligraphy?" she suggested.

Tuo Baxiao had little interest in calligraphy. He had occasionally practiced a few pieces before while watching her, but since both were usually busy, they rarely had such leisure time. Even when they did, he had no desire to waste it on calligraphy. As a result, his handwriting was only slightly better than when he first started—messy and sprawling, like a child’s scrawl.

Her handwriting, on the other hand, was graceful and poised, with a disciplined elegance. At a glance, one couldn’t immediately tell it was written by a woman, yet it differed from the typical masculine style, possessing a unique charm.

"You’ll guide my hand?" Tuo Baxiao raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Congyang fell silent for a long moment. "...Fine."

That got him to agree. With a beauty in his arms, even the tedious task of calligraphy became far more enjoyable.

Besides calligraphy, they also played games—Gomoku (Five-in-a-Row).

Tuo Baxiao, too stubborn to quit, insisted on winning at least once before stopping. Perhaps after playing so much he had picked up some skill, or perhaps Jiang Congyang had momentarily lost focus, but he actually managed to win. The man was utterly triumphant, swept her up in his arms and spun her around several times in the air, his booming laughter echoing around them.

"Don’t I deserve a reward?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his warm breath brushing over her.

"..."

The year’s last month slipped by in these simple, cozy moments.

The new year arrived, but the weather remained bitterly cold, with no hint of spring in sight. Yet, there was a sudden burst of happy news—

Qiu Liju was pregnant.

She was already two months along before noticing and had Zhang Fu examine her to confirm it.

Qiu Liju was overjoyed. Like the Han Chinese, the Xianbei prized large families, and with only Mica as her child, she’d waited eight long years for this pregnancy. Whether a boy or a girl, she was eagerly anticipating the arrival.

Such happy news naturally had to be shared with the closest family and friends. With time on their hands lately, she invited Jiang Congyang and Tuo Baxiao to her home for a gathering.

Jiang Congyang gladly accepted.

Though Tuo Baxiao and Tuoba Wuxi had reconciled, whether due to inherent incompatibility or something else, they rarely got along. Just like now—Tuo Baxiao wasn’t keen on accepting Qiu Liju’s invitation.

Jiang Congyang asked, "You really don’t want to go?"

Tuo Baxiao: "No."

Jiang Congyang: "Fine, I’ll go by myself. Brr, it’s freezing, and it’s been a while since I last gathered with Qiu Liju and Lan Zhu. They’ll probably talk my ear off—we might be up all night."

His face fell. "You’d stay at her place the whole day?"

She blinked. "Possibly."

Tuo Baxiao gritted his teeth. "I’ll go with you."

Jiang Congyan smiled.

Tuoba Xiao knew she was teasing him on purpose, but he just couldn’t stand her laughing and chatting with others while leaving him out.

The couple changed into their outerwear, and Jiang Congyan prepared gifts before setting off together to Qiu Liju’s home.

The snow-covered path was slushy. As soon as they stepped out, Tuoba Xiao didn’t let her feet touch the ground—scooping her up and setting her straight on the horse. When they arrived at Qiu Liju’s doorstep, he helped her down himself.

“You’re so thoughtful, husband,” she whispered softly into his ear while he held her.

Tuoba Xiao’s throat tightened, and the muscles in his arms suddenly tensed.

She was doing it on purpose—pushing his buttons right now.

Just then, Qiu Liju heard of their arrival and hurried out to welcome them inside.

Tuoba Xiao glanced at the newcomer, then back at her sly gaze, his green eyes darkening as a dark heat flared inside him.

At this moment, he even had the thought to screw this damn gathering, take her straight back, throw her onto the bed, and have his way with her until she was pleading—just to see if she’d dare provoke him like this again.

Jiang Congyan gave him a light push, signaling to let her down.

Tuoba Xiao complied, but the glare he shot her was downright predatory.

Jiang Congyan felt a flicker of regret. She had only teased him out of a bit of revenge for how insufferable he’d been acting these past two months. But was it really that bad? Just one sentence?

Once inside, Jiang Congyan noticed Lan Zhu had arrived early.

“Ah Yan!” Lan Zhu waved at her.

The girls gathered together, their chatter all about Qiu Liju.

At just over two months, Qiu Liju’s belly showed no visible changes, though she had filled out a bit compared to before, her face constantly lit with a soft, contented smile.

After some conversation, everyone gathered for lunch. Jiang Congyan noticed Su Li had also come. She cast a knowing glance at Lan Zhu, who blushed and said, “He invited himself along, the shameless thing.”

On the other side, Tuoba Wuxi glared daggers at Su Li. In the end, Lan Zhu had taken a liking to him.

Su Li was actually quite the catch—born into nobility and already a prominent general among the Xianbei at a young age. If he were Tuoba Wuxi’s subordinate, he would’ve long since arranged Lan Zhu’s marriage to him. But since he served under Tuoba Xiao, Tuoba Wuxi had fought it tooth and nail before. Even now, he still couldn’t stand the sight of Su Li.

Su Li didn’t care about his cold attitude, grinning like a fool as he approached to share a drink.

Men and their wine—typical. Ignoring them, after the meal, Qiu Liju led Jiang Congyan back to her bedroom. Without outsiders around and given their close relationship, she spoke openly, “You’ve been married to the king for nearly three years now. Why no little ones yet?”

Jiang Congyan froze.

Seeing her expression, Qiu Liju worried she’d overstepped and quickly explained, “I didn’t mean to pry. I... well, I just wanted to check on you. Don’t overthink it.”

Jiang Congyan took her hand and smiled. “I know. I’m not overthinking it.”

Qiu Liju relaxed slightly and said, “Those people below—they wouldn’t dare say such things to your faces, but they whisper behind your backs. Especially since the king is at this age without a single child. Some nasty tongues are even whispering he’s... shooting blanks.”

Huh? They suspected Tuoba Xiao was infertile? Jiang Congyan looked genuinely surprised.

Back in the Central Plains, they’d have blamed the woman first.

“You have that skilled physician, don’t you? Have him examine both of you,” Qiu Liju added.

“Don’t worry, the king’s health is fine. As for children, it just hasn’t happened yet. Like you—after having Mica, didn’t you wait years before conceiving again? The king is only in his twenties. He’s still young,” Jiang Congyan replied.

That's true. Qiu Liju bought her argument and relaxed again, as the two moved on to other topics.

On the other side, Tuoba Wuxi also brought up the matter with Tuo Baxiao, but his attitude was far more unpleasant.

"You didn’t have a woman before, but now you’ve been married for two or three years and still no child. Are you impotent?"

Tuo Baxiao’s face darkened instantly. He set down his wine bowl and fixed Tuoba Wuxi with an icy stare.

Tuoba Wuxi continued smugly, "By your age, Mica was already riding horses." His tone was dripping with pride.

Tuo Baxiao flexed his knuckles, feeling that he hadn’t beaten him hard enough last time.

"Stay out of it," he said icily, his voice thick with warning.

Tuoba Wuxi snorted. "I was just giving you a friendly reminder."

Tuo Baxiao shot him a glare sharp as a blade.

Indeed, he shouldn’t have come today.

Unable to stay any longer, Tuo Baxiao went to call Jiang Congyan, saying they should leave.

Jiang Congyan wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter either and took the opportunity to say their goodbyes to Qiu Liju.

That night, as the two lay in bed, Tuo Baxiao kissed her fiercely for a long time but couldn’t proceed further—she wasn’t in the state for it.

He held her tightly in his arms, his large hand unconsciously resting on her slender, flat stomach, his green eyes dark with contemplation.

"Yanyan, when can we have our own child?"

Jiang Congyan stiffened, forcing herself to relax after a few seconds.

"Did Tuoba Wuxi get under your skin?" she asked lightly.

"No," Tuo Baxiao shook his head. "I just want a child of our own."

Tuoba Wuxi’s words had indeed needled him, but that was just a flash of anger. Once he calmed down, he thought seriously—setting aside external pressure and gossip, deep down, he truly wanted a child with her, one that carried both their blood.

This left Jiang Congyan with no rebuttal.

She lowered her lashes, her tone subdued. "You know my condition..." She could only fall back on this excuse.

Tuo Baxiao quickly reassured her, "I’m not rushing you. I just mean—isn’t Zhang Fu under your command a good doctor? Let him treat you, and once you’re better, we can try. Okay?"

Though he wasn’t pushing too hard, Jiang Congyan still felt a crushing weight. She could use her health as an excuse to delay for a year or so, but what then?

Should she have a child?

Let’s wait. Just get through this year.

Speaking of which, this was the eighteenth year of Yongan. In history, this was the year he... At this thought, a wave of dread hit her, and she grabbed his collar in panic.

"Tuo Baxiao!" Her breath quickened.

"What’s wrong?" Alarmed, he bolted upright, only to see her face ghostly pale.

"Are you feeling unwell?" he asked. "I’ll call someone."

Jiang Congyan held onto him, shaking her head repeatedly. "No need for that. I’m fine. Don’t worry."

"You look awful." Tuoba Baxiao was still uneasy.

Jiang Congyan slowly relaxed in his arms, her breath steadying. "I just suddenly remembered a terrible dream."

"What dream?"

"I dreamed you were hurt on the battlefield. I couldn’t find you, and I was so worried."

Most people wouldn’t be pleased to hear someone dream of their misfortune, but hearing her concern for him, Tuoba Baxiao felt no annoyance—only joy that she cared so deeply.

"It’s just a dream. Who out there could actually kill me in battle?" The man was oozing confidence and arrogance.

Yet Jiang Congyan couldn’t shake her unease. She pressed against his chest, lifting her small face to gaze at him pleadingly. "Don’t go to war this year, okay? Even if there’s a battle, you have so many great generals—send Modolou, Chigan Balie, or Su Li. Just stay with me, please?"

Aside from health issues, the battlefield was the most dangerous place. She had Zhang Fu examine him repeatedly, finding no life-threatening conditions. But war was chaos—arrows didn’t discriminate, and a stray shot could strike a vital spot, or he might die from some unstoppable disease... Any of these could happen.

Even a tiny shift could change history. Logically, his fate might’ve already changed, and he’d survive even if he went to war. But she couldn’t shake this dread.

The details now differed from how history originally went—Huan Jun and Xie Shao had gone south earlier, Zhou Hong had survived—but on a broader scale, history seemed unchanged. Wudati Hou ascended as Khan, invaded Liang State, crippling it...

What about his death?

This was world-changing. Could it really be so easily altered? She wasn’t so sure.

Tuoba Baxiao shouldn’t have agreed to her request—whether to deploy troops depended on the situation. But seeing her so distressed, about to cry, he melted completely. He wished he could promise her anything.

"I promise I’ll try not to go. And if I must, I’ll take you with me," he said.

Only then did Jiang Congyan finally relax, burying herself in his embrace and holding him tightly.

She just hoped this year would pass quickly.

A month passed, and soon it was February.

In previous years, the snow would’ve started to thaw by now, with tribes preparing for the spring assembly. But this year, the cold lingered, and the gathering was canceled.

A Long had run out of ointment for his frostbite. With the weather still harsh, he had no choice but to visit Zhang Fu’s clinic for more.

After collecting the medicine, he was about to leave when he spotted two men huddled in a corner, their expressions furtive. He grew suspicious—this was Zhang Fu’s clinic, and since he’d stumbled upon them, he figured he’d check what they were doing. If they were up to no good... Hmph.

Hiding on the other side of the wall, he was just thinking he might catch thieves when their conversation stopped him cold.

"I’ve discovered something huge."

"What is it?"

"Everyone says the King has no heir, right? I saw Master Zhang secretly researching birth control remedies and even brewing medicine, forbidding anyone from getting close. Could that be why the King still hasn’t..."

"Don’t spread baseless rumors."

"I’m not lying. I have proof."

"Then what now? Should we report this to the King?"

...

They continued talking, unaware that on the other side of the wall, A Long’s head was spinning.

When he regained his senses, his eyes turned sharp. He stepped out from behind the wall.

The two men were completely caught off guard by the eavesdropper, frozen in shock. Just as they were about to speak, A Long swiftly struck them unconscious with a swift chop to each man's neck.

After knocking them out, A Long agonized over his next move for a long time.

What should he do? Should he report this to the king? No—what if they were just making things up? The king and Khatun had such a close relationship. Yet, a nagging worry lingered in his heart.

As the king’s most loyal subordinate, he couldn’t keep this from him.

He tied the two men up, quietly hauled them off to lock up, then went to the front courtyard to find the king.

"Your Majesty, I need to report something urgent."