Chapter 167 If You Want to Have a Child, We Will…

Chapter 167: If You Want a Child, We’ll Have One...

That night, Jiang Congyan was suddenly chilled, made worse by her emotional state. Despite drinking ginger soup, she came down with a mild fever. Fortunately, it wasn’t severe—just hazy thoughts and a lack of energy.

She was lethargic, her eyes glazed over.

A Fei was truly frantic. What in the world happened between the King and the lady to lead to this fallout?

Hearing that the King had been holed up in the military camp without returning, A Fei thought for a moment and pulled A Long aside. She told him, “The Khatun is ill. Has the King been told?”

A Long got her drift immediately.

“The King hasn’t been told yet. I’ll find a way to break it to him.”

A Long and A Fei were their closest confidants, having spent the most time with them. Naturally, they knew how much the King cared for the Khatun. Whenever she was even slightly unwell, he was beside himself.

In the past, A Long would’ve bet the King would relent, but now he couldn’t be sure.

This matter cut too deep. What man could take such a thing? Especially the King, who was the ruler of the Xianbei—he could have any woman he desired. Too proud for his own good, yet the Khatun had actually…

Still, he wanted to try to ease the tension. When the King was in a bad temper, those beneath him suffered as well.

——

The previous day, Tuo Baxiao returned to the military camp. Instead of continuing to ride, he went to the training grounds and called for sparring partners.

At first, everyone was game, but gradually, they realized something was wrong. The King was going too hard, fighting relentlessly until he defeated over a dozen men without stopping, his eyes wild with fury.

This wasn’t training—it was just blowing off steam.

After several hours and dozens of opponents, he finally exhausted the last of his strength and collapsed onto the ground.

By then, night had fallen, the sky a deep blue. He saw a bright, round moon before closing his eyes.

A Long hurriedly carried him back to the barracks.

After two days and a night without rest, coupled with such immense physical exertion, his body had finally given out. Yet his sleep didn’t last long—he woke as soon as he regained a little strength.

It was still dark outside. A Long, curled up in a corner of the barracks, was equally exhausted but didn’t dare sleep deeply. At the slightest sound, he immediately stirred.

He cautiously approached but didn’t dare get too close. “My King, I heard the Khatun is ill.”

Tuo Baxiao’s movements froze.

“Would you like to go see her?” A Long ventured carefully.

Tuo Baxiao shot him a cold glance, snorted, and said nothing. Instead, he roughly tore off his clothes, walked to a water barrel, and—heedless of how icy the water was at this time of year—drenched himself.

A Long understood then. The King was fuming. He silently retreated to his corner, not daring to utter another word.

——

Jiang Congyan was ill for two days before finally improving. Her gaze, no longer distant, regained its usual calm and serenity.

She called A Fei over and asked, “How has the King been these past two days?”

Naturally, A Fei had been watching closely. Delighted that the lady had taken the initiative to inquire about the King, she quickly replied, “After leaving that night, the King rode his horse all night. The next day, he returned to the military camp and fought relentlessly until he collapsed from exhaustion. A Long told me the King’s mood has been terrible, and he’s barely eaten these past two days. I’m worried his health will suffer.”

She subtly made it sound worse—though, of course, everything she said was true.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Congyan lowered her gaze. She understood his anger—if it were her, having offered a sincere heart only to receive deceit and hypocrisy in return, she'd probably be even angrier.

Over the past two days, she had been contemplating how to handle the situation. She had deceived him first, and it was indeed her fault. Moreover, their interests were already tangled together beyond separation. No matter what, she couldn't just walk away from all this.

"Prepare a horse, along with some medicine and food," she said to A Fei.

A Fei's face brightened. Was her lady making the first move to patch things up with the king? Wonderful!

She scrambled to get everything ready, finishing in no time. She even deliberately fetched the fox-fur cloak Jiang Congyan usually wore and draped it over her shoulders.

This cloak wasn’t the one brought from Liangzhou. Two years ago, Jiang Congyan had grown slightly taller, making the original one a bit short. She had planned to have a servant alter it to continue wearing, but when Tuo Baxiao found out, he specially hunted new foxes to make it as her birthday gift. Since then, she had worn this one—a memento of better times.

A Fei knew better than to meddle, so she could only work subtly on the details.

Once everything was ready, Jiang Congyan mounted her horse, letting the icy wind whip at her face as she rode toward the military camp.

As soon as Jiang Congyan showed up at the camp’s entrance, an Imperial Guard immediately went to report to Tuo Baxiao.

"My king, the Khatun has arrived."

Tuo Baxiao was practicing archery. His immense strength, combined with his specially crafted bow, sent arrows splitting the targets clean in half, each shot releasing some of the rage bottled up inside him.

At the news, he paused, his knuckles tightening subconsciously, veins bulging in his neck.

"What is she here for?" His lip curled, not turning to look, his tone still icy.

This... The guard just stood there helplessly.

"Tuo Baxiao."

Suddenly, a clear, musical voice reached the man’s ears. His shoulders twitched, as if he instinctively wanted to turn but forcibly restrained himself.

His chest rose and fell twice before he slowly turned, his gaze deep and sharp.

Jiang Congyan walked forward softly, stopping about ten paces away from him. Her snow-white skin glowed under the bright daylight, making her glow. Yet he noticed her lips still lacked their usual rosy hue, her cheeks were pale, and she still looked slightly unwell.

He had heard she had fallen ill again two days prior.

Then, he noticed A Fei behind her holding a box.

They locked eyes for a moment. Her gaze was earnest and focused, as if he were the only one she could see.

"Tuo Baxiao, I have something to say to you."

A gust of wind made her cloak flutter. Tuo Baxiao glanced at it, then turned and walked toward the barracks.

Jiang Congyan closed the distance between them.

He had his own room in the camp, though he rarely stayed there—not one for luxuries, the room was sparsely furnished—just a basic bed, a few pieces of furniture, and hardly any clothes around. Dust lingered in the corners, a stark contrast to their current refined and comfortable quarters.

Once inside, though the heating stove was cold, the absence of wind made it noticeably warmer.

A Fei placed the box containing medicine and food to the side and slipped out, leaving only the two of them in the room.

"Tuo Baxiao," Jiang Congyan called again, stepping closer until they were within arm’s reach.

Tuo Baxiao still didn’t respond, but his gaze never left her face.

"Tuo Baxiao, I've done nothing but think these past two days. I was wrong to hide the contraceptive medicine from you. I’m sorry." Her voice was soft, but she meant every word—a heartfelt apology.

"I swear I’ll never keep anything from you again."

Tuo Baxiao was moved, his attitude finally softening. "That’s it?"

Jiang Congyan lowered her gaze, took a quiet breath, then raised her eyes to meet his, speaking in a relaxed tone, "I get it—at your age, and as the Xianbei King, you truly need an heir. If you want a child, we can have one. Let’s just go back to how we were, okay?"

This was the biggest compromise she could offer after much deliberation, going against her long-held resolve not to bear children.

She figured that, emotionally or strategically, having a child might be for the best.

A child. This was something Tuo Baxiao had always longed for, yet now that he heard it, he felt no joy at all.

This sounded more like surrender.

What he wanted wasn’t just a child.

"That’s not what I care about," Tuo Baxiao frowned.

"There’s only one thing I care about—do you love me? How much of you is really mine?"

His voice was heavy, his question hitting her like a ton of bricks.

Did she love him? She had pondered this question too.

"I..." She hesitated.

The man leaned slightly forward, watching her tensely, hoping to hear the words he longed for.

Meeting his gaze, Jiang Congyan suddenly found the words stuck in her throat. Unable to bear it any longer, she averted her eyes and lowered her head, her gaze settling on his arm.

"I don’t know," she said hoarsely. "Tuo Baxiao, I really don’t know. But it’s not that I feel nothing for you. I guess I do care about you—just not the way you care about me."

"Then can you try to care more? Love me more? Love me all the way, like I love you," he pleaded urgently.

He’d never begged anyone like this before, yet now he was begging her to love him in the most vulnerable tone.

Guilt was eating her alive, but the more she felt it, the less she could bring herself to lie.

"I can’t. That’s just how it is."

She did care about him, but she couldn’t love him as unreservedly as he did.

It wasn’t because of the uncertain future—it was because she had lost the ability to love deeply.

These words finally shattered the last remnants of Tuo Baxiao’s restraint. His fingers dug into her shoulders, his face twisted with rage.

"Why? Haven’t I treated you well enough? Don’t I love you enough? I can let go of the past—just say you love me, and I’ll forget everything that happened before."

Jiang Congyan gasped as his grip bit into her, struggling but unable to break free.

"I can’t. That’s just how it is," she said in pain.

Even with him pushing like this, she refused to yield—wouldn’t even throw him a bone. Tuo Baxiao’s chest burned like he’d been gutted.

"Jiang Congyan, are you even capable of love?" he roared.

"I’ve wrecked myself for you—I’d have bled myself dry for you! And this is what I get?"

Jiang Congyan trembled, finally lifting her head. "You think your ‘love’ means I owe you mine? Is that fair? Forget your ‘love’—haven’t I done enough to ‘love’ you? I’ve run Xianbei for you, built trade, kept the clans in line. And that time in Guyuan—I burned every bridge with Liang for you. Besides kids, where have I let you down? I said I’d do it—if you want a kid, fine, you’ll get one."

"That's just wordplay!" Tuo Baxiao fumed. "I only ever wanted your heart."

Jiang Congyan had come today to reconcile, never expecting things to escalate like this. Pushed past her breaking point, she snapped—all her pent-up grievances, sorrow, bitterness, and rage came flooding out, overwhelming her.

"Do you think feelings just magically happen? I was living my own life until you forced me to marry you. Did you ever ask for my opinion before that?"

Tuo Baxiao froze at her words. He’d treated her like a treasure, spared her every hardship, given her the best of everything—only to hear her say now that she had never wanted to marry him in the first place. She’d been forced into it all along.

"From the moment I married you, I was first targeted by your subordinates, then kidnapped by Wudati Hou, smeared by campaigns, attacked by rebels... Did I deserve any of that?"

"And these desert winds—I could never adjust to them. All I wanted was to stay safely in Liangzhou, protecting my family and living peacefully. The emperor distrusted us, and I had already arranged my own marriage. Then you crashed into my life."

Now that she’d started, Jiang Congyan decided to lay everything bare, venting all the resentment she’d bottled up.

The outburst left her gasping, and she clutched her chest, struggling to catch her breath.

Tuo Baxiao stood frozen, stunned by the depth of her grievances.

He had always believed their love had grown deeper over time. If not, why would she worry so much for his safety? Why weave him a Chinese knot? Why write the epitaph for his mother? Why help him reclaim Guyuan City?

Seeing him like this, Jiang Congyan suddenly regretted her outburst. Perhaps she had been suppressing it for too long. She was only human—of course she had breaking points. And so, she had lashed out.

"I'm sorry," she said, closing her eyes to steady herself. "I knew from the start that marrying you wouldn’t be peaceful. None of this was your doing. I just lost control—I didn’t mean to blame you. I spoke without thinking."

Tuo Baxiao remained silent, watching her.

"Tuo Baxiao, why can’t we just go back to the way things were? Wasn’t that good enough?" She took a tentative step closer.

Her voice was so soft, her tone so gentle—it nearly swayed him.

Back to how things were...

No. Impossible.

The illusion of self-deception had shattered. There was no returning to the past.

He was possessive by nature—he’d given everything, and he demanded the same from her in return.

"So you still refuse to love me?" His gaze sharpened abruptly.

"It’s not about refusing, I—"

Before she could finish, Tuo Baxiao had heard enough. He turned to leave the tent.

Jiang Congyan instinctively reached for his hand, but he shook her off violently, stumbling back two steps as her back hit the wall and she winced.

Tuo Baxiao hesitated, his arm jerking instinctively to steady her—but he clenched his fist and held back.

She hadn’t fallen. A minor bruise meant nothing.

Only he knew how wildly his heart had raced when the Imperial Guard reported her arrival at the camp. He thought she had come to reconcile—and she had, apologizing sincerely just as he’d hoped. But then everything spiraled beyond his expectations.

She didn’t love him. She wouldn’t even promise to try.

He felt ridiculous. Until now, he had believed she loved him too.

Their conflict had always been about this one thing. If she refused, then there was nothing left to say.

Tuo Baxiao shot her a final look, turned, and strode out.

Jiang Congyan watched his retreating figure grow farther and farther away until it disappeared completely, then collapsed weakly to the ground.

He demanded her wholehearted love, but she truly didn’t dare—nor could she muster it anymore.

She had once been deeply loved, and she had bet her life on that love. But in the end, that love had vanished.

They had only known each other for three years. Naturally, he loved her now, in this moment of passion, and she believed in his sincerity at this very instant. But people’s hearts change.

Even the purest love between parents and children could fade with time—how long could romantic love last?

If they were a modern couple, they could simply part ways if things went south. Even in this world, if they were ordinary people, they might have tried. If it didn’t work out, they could still bail. But their current status, their positions, the intertwined interests—they were bound together. Unless she truly abandoned everything without a care, there was no way she could leave him.

Her life wasn’t just about love. Family, career—they were all important parts of it. Given that, what’s the harm in staying a little guarded? That way, no matter what happened, she could still stand on her own, and her life wouldn’t completely collapse.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t like him at all—it just wasn’t the all-consuming love he wanted. Yet Tuo Baxiao was so possessive about love…

Jiang Congyan wondered—was she wrong?

But she truly couldn’t bear any more risks. In her past life, it was precisely because she had put all her faith in them, believing they would love her forever, that she had fought off death again and again.

She couldn’t die—what would her parents do without her?

They had said she was their only treasure, their hope, and she’d taken them at their word.

At first, they had stayed with her every single day. Then, they began taking turns. Then, it became every two or three days. Eventually, they only came when she had an attack. They said they were busy, and Jiang Congyan had waited dutifully in the hospital, not wanting to trouble them further.

Until one day, she saw a girl—no more than seven or eight years old, healthy and beautiful—calling her parents “Mom” and “Dad.” Only then did she realize she wasn’t their only child anymore. They’d moved on without her.

She had always known she couldn’t stay with them forever. If her parents had another child to keep them company after she was gone, that would have been fine. But why had they hidden it from her?

Later, she learned that she wasn’t meant to be born in the first place. During the prenatal checkup, the doctor had found heart defects, but they had gone through with the pregnancy anyway.

They had insisted on bringing her into this world, promising to love her forever—yet in the end, they were the ones who abandoned her.

That truth had taken her life, turning the modern Jiang Congyan into an ancient girl destined to die young.

She had thought that since she was given a second chance, she would live well, writing off her past as a fleeting dream.

Only now did she realize—she had believed she had let go, but in truth, she never could. The past still haunted her, keeping her trapped in a loop she could never escape.

Large tears rolled down her cheeks, trickling down her neck. She wiped at them, but they wouldn’t stop.

Suddenly, her breathing grew ragged. Without warning, a stabbing pain shot through her chest, leaving her gasping for air.

She braced a hand against the ground, struggling to steady herself. Spasms of pain left her face deathly pale, her body breaking out in cold sweat.

She began to tremble, trying to calm her breathing, but her body wouldn’t stop shaking. The pressure in her chest became unbearable, and she turned her head to the side, gagging helplessly.

A Fei and A Long had been standing guard outside at a distance. They had thought the two would reconcile this time and had just begun to relax—only for Tuo Baxiao to storm out moments later, seething with rage.

His entire body was tense, veins bulging, his eyes dark and terrifying. Anyone could see how enraged he was.

The two exchanged a glance, seeing the same shock in each other’s eyes.

No reconciliation?

Not only that—judging by the king’s expression, things were worse than before.

This was a disaster. The same thought flashed through both their minds.

No time to dwell on it. Seeing Tuo Baxiao's figure getting farther away, A Long hurriedly chased after him.

A Fei, meanwhile, turned her gaze toward the room.

The lady hadn’t called for her, so she didn’t dare enter rashly. Instead, she leaned cautiously against the door, listening closely for movement inside.

At first, there was no obvious noise. Then, suddenly, she heard the sound of vomiting. Without hesitation, she rushed in.

"My lady!" A Fei called out anxiously.

Jiang Congyan was sitting on the floor, doubled over, coughing and bringing up the little rice porridge she had eaten that morning uncontrollably.

"My lady, are you all right? I’ll go fetch Physician Zhang at once!"

Jiang Congyan grabbed her arm. "I’m fine. I just need a moment to recover."

A Fei refused to believe it—her lady didn’t look fine at all.

Jiang Congyan brought up the little rice porridge for a long while, only feeling slightly better afterward.

After calming down for a while longer, the chest tightness gradually subsided.

Yet, when she saw what she had vomited on the floor, a realization hit her, and all color drained from her face, the flush from coughing vanishing entirely.

Her hand instinctively pressed against her stomach.

"Call Zhang Fu."

A crushing wave of panic hit her. Please, don’t let it be what she feared.

A Fei began to understand what might be happening, her expression turning grave. She immediately stepped out and ordered an Imperial Guard to summon Zhang Fu.

For nearly half a year, Jiang Congyan had stopped taking her medicine. Though they had used fish bladders for contraception, they weren’t foolproof—they often tore, and they’d discovered too late several times. So, it wasn’t impossible for her to be pregnant.

As she waited for Zhang Fu to arrive, one thought after another raced through her mind.

What if she really was pregnant? Jiang Congyan’s mind was racing.

The Imperial Guard said it was urgent, so Zhang Fu didn’t dare delay. He mounted his horse and rushed over at full speed.

Ah! He sighed to himself. Why had he ever agreed to the lady’s request back then? Now, just as he’d feared, the Prince of Mobei had quarreled with her over the medicine.

After nearly an hour, Zhang Fu finally arrived.

She’d just gotten better—how had she ended up like this again?

"Physician Zhang, please examine the lady quickly. She’s been vomiting," A Fei urged, stepping aside to make room.

Jiang Congyan had already been helped up by A Fei and was now seated in a chair, a charcoal heater placed before her. She shouldn’t have been cold, yet her outstretched wrist trembled faintly.

Noticing this oddity, Zhang Fu suppressed his questions and focused on taking her pulse.

"My lady is suffering from repressed feelings and sudden distress, causing violent mood swings that triggered the vomiting. It’s not serious, but..."

"But what?" Jiang Congyan stared at him intently, her heartbeat quickening.

"For your health to improve sooner, you must find some peace." Zhang Fu knew his words were useless, but a patient’s mental state was paramount. He could treat physical ailments, but not matters of the heart.

"Is there nothing else?" Jiang Congyan pressed.

Zhang Fu nodded.

Jiang Congyan's body relaxed, and she let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Thankfully, it wasn’t pregnancy.

Seeing this, Zhang Fu belatedly realized what she had been worried about earlier. He couldn’t help but sigh.

Originally, he thought it would be good for her to have a child, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

After the exhausting half-day, Jiang Congyan returned home, washed up, changed into clean clothes, and sat back down on the bed.

During the time she had waited for Zhang Fu to arrive, she had wondered—what if she really was pregnant? She thought about her current relationship with Tuo Baxiao, the future political situation, whether he would even welcome this child... She had turned over many possibilities, but giving up the child was never an option.

Hearing that she wasn’t pregnant, she did feel an immense relief. Given their current relationship, it wasn’t the right time for a child—yet, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something else.

Tuo Baxiao hadn’t returned since the day he left. That night, she lay alone in bed once more.

The heated floor kept her warm without him. But staring at the spacious bed curtains, she felt suddenly hollow.