They were killing people again.
Hu Shen only spared a glance when the commotion broke out before quickly lowering her head to continue simmering the mutton soup, not daring to look up again.
It was a Han man, though dressed in the garb of the grassland people. She heard he was a captured spy.
Her tribesmen lashed their whips across his body, shouting in the Xianbei tongue that he was “too old and tough” and “tasted terrible.”
Hu Shen thought to herself that infiltrating at this time of year was truly unfortunate. In the summer, he might have been left with an intact corpse; coming in winter meant being delivered as a Two-legged Sheep right to their mouths.
She looked down at the steaming pot before her. However, the one in her pot was a real, freshly slaughtered sheep.
Winter had arrived, and mutton was a precious thing. Drinking the broth and eating the meat was the only way to keep the body warm. Food was scarce on the grasslands, but fortunately, her brother was highly regarded by the Khan, so the portion she received was larger than most.
The distant sounds of laughter and agonizing shrieks continued to drill into her ears, followed by the pungent scent of blood blowing toward her on the frigid wind.
She quickly ladled out a large bowl and covered the pot. she was afraid that if the commotion over there got too loud, a stray finger or ear might go flying into her soup.
Carrying the bowl, she walked toward a nearby yurt and ducked inside. The interior wasn’t much warmer than the outside.
As the curtain fell, it failed to muffle the screams from outside. The man before her was kneeling on the ground. From the moment she entered, a pair of sharp eyes fixed upon her. After identifying her, the fierce, wary gaze—like that of a wolf—softened imperceptibly.
He spoke in the Han language, his voice clear and refined, in stark contrast to the murderous aura clinging to him: “Miss Tuoba.”
Tuoba Hu Shen glanced at him and walked toward him with the bowl in hand.
This was the man her brother had captured. A year ago, during the war with Southern Liang, her brother had been valiant, and the Northern Wei won a great victory, capturing one hundred and twelve men. Now, only fifteen remained alive; nine had surrendered, leaving six stubborn holdouts.
The defectors had confessed that among them, the identity of the third son of the Xie family, Xie Xixiao, was the most extraordinary. The Xie family of Southern Liang had been a prominent noble clan for centuries, producing many capable officials, but he was the first to become a military general.
Her brother said he was formidable, fighting like ten men on the battlefield. Even after he was heavily wounded and cornered like a trapped beast, her brother—the Khan’s personally appointed First Baturu of the Grasslands—still had to take three men with him to finally subdue him.
He was gifted in both civil and military arts, and the Khan was intent on recruiting him. Every method had been tried, yet he refused to bow his head. Half a month ago, he had attempted to escape once more. When he was recaptured, the Khan was furious. Beating and humiliating him wasn’t enough; the Khan had iron chains driven through his shoulder blades to lock him to a wooden frame inside this tent, keeping him barely alive but forbidding him from dying.
Since her brother had captured the man, it was only natural for Hu Shen to take over the task of looking after him.
She stepped forward and knelt before Xie Xixiao, using a spoon to feed him a few sips of broth first.
Xie Xixiao lowered his eyes, his long lashes concealing the ferocity within. After only a moment’s hesitation, he nodded and drank the soup.
“Thank you.”
Hu Shen said nothing.
He thanked her every time; she supposed this was a Han custom.
In truth, she shouldn’t have been the one feeding him personally.
In the past, when she brought food, she would simply set it before him. But this time, his injuries were too severe.
Half a month ago, he had been leaning against the wooden frame, gasping for breath. His robes were so soaked in blood that their original color was indistinguishable, and his face was deathly pale. Only his dark, deep pupils proved he was still alive.
The wounds on his back must have been excruciating, yet he still gritted his teeth and tried to pick up the bowl. The movement caused the chains to rattle, and with every clink, the iron piercing his shoulder blades tore at his flesh, draining what little color remained in his face. Blood seeped through his fingertips into the bowl, but he acted as if he didn’t see it, continuing to swallow.
The pain wracking his body made his fingers tremble as if he couldn’t hold the bowl, and agonizing sweat broke out on his brow, yet he still forced the food down.
This reminded Hu Shen of the lambs she raised. Even after they had been knifed and skinned, they would still try to eat grass. The lambs didn’t know why it hurt so much; they only knew how to clumsily, repeatedly chew. They thought that if they ate something, they would get better.
She truly couldn’t bear it, so she simply took the bowl from him and began to feed him.
He didn’t offer any unnecessary resistance, likely knowing it was best not to aggravate his injuries. So, though he remained stiff, he allowed her to feed him, and it had continued this way until now.
Hu Shen sighed softly and lowered her head, using the spoon to break the mutton in the bowl into small pieces so it would be easier for him to eat.
Grassland people didn’t eat with the refinement of those from the Central Plains; they didn’t use bamboo chopsticks or spoons. They simply held the bowl to gulp down meat and soup, using their hands for everything else.
At first, she had also used her hands to feed him. But once, her fingertip had touched his warm, soft tongue. Her finger was lightly licked, and when she looked at him again, his expression had changed—dark and indecipherable, the veins on his forehead throbbing.
Hu Shen also felt it was a strange sensation. Although the lambs always licked her, his gaze reminded her that sheep and humans were different after all. Naturally, she was also afraid he might bite her, so she had specifically found a stone and ground it into a spoon for him.
“Miss Tuoba.”
Xie Xixiao suddenly spoke. “Is this… sheep?”
“Yes.”
Xie Xixiao paused, slowly raising his head. His deep gaze fixed on her. “Is it… Two-legged Sheep?”
He could hear the commotion outside. The person screaming in pain was one of his kin.
But what could he do even if he asked? Even if his kin were in the bowl, he would have to eat it. Only by eating could he live. Only by living could he return to his homeland and wash away this disgrace.
Hu Shen was stared at by him as she fed him another spoonful. She explained, “No. I don’t like eating people either.”
Years ago, when food was scarce, she had thought about trying it, but she couldn’t do it.
It wasn’t because her mother was also a Han woman snatched from the Central Plains. It was because whenever she saw human flesh boiling in a pot, she felt as if a hawk were pecking at her heart—frightened, pained, and disgusted.
Hearing this, Xie Xixiao lowered his eyes. After a long silence, he spoke again: “That person… is he a soldier captured with me?”
Hu Shen thought for a moment and shook her head slightly. “No. I heard he was a spy.”
Xie Xixiao’s expression stiffened. When the spoon reached his lips, he didn’t open his mouth immediately. Hu Shen didn’t pause, pushing it directly against his lips to feed him.
She knew what he was thinking.
He had been able to hold out until now because those five other men were holding out with him. Even in the enemy camp, someone was enduring pain and humiliation alongside him.
All these people captured from the Central Plains dreamed of returning to their ancestral land. He had once tried to find a way to send a message out, but he nearly had his tongue cut out for it. He had tried to escape with all his might, only to be met with even more lethal torture.
Hu Shen felt compelled to remind him: “Winter has arrived, and my brother has increased the guard. None of you can get in, and none of you can get out.”
She didn’t know if Xie Xixiao took her words to heart. He lowered his eyes, and when he resumed eating, he bit down hard, his hanging hand clenching into a fist as if he were biting into the flesh and blood of the Xianbei people.
In truth, she really hoped he would surrender soon. That would save a lot of trouble.
Her brother’s instructions inevitably came to mind.
There were supposed to be ten spies. Four had been caught over the last few days, each subjected to torture and humiliation. The commotion was loud on purpose, a way to “kill the chicken to warn the monkey,” intended for Xie Xixiao and the others to hear.
It wasn’t that the remaining six couldn’t be caught; rather, the guards were intentionally lax, waiting for them to take certain news back to the Central Plains.
This was because three days ago, a surrendered Central Plains soldier had offered a strategy to the Khan.
Central Plains people valued marriage and career, and they placed great importance on reputation. Attacking the heart was the superior tactic.
Grant them titles, bestow them with beauties, let them start families, and have them sire several children. Once they had attachments, their hearts would settle. Even if their hearts didn’t settle, it didn’t matter; the main point was for the Emperor of the Central Plains to see it.
Let the spies see all of this with their own eyes. Let them bring this news back through harrowing trials and great losses. No one would doubt it.
Once the people of the Central Plains viewed them as traitorous ministers and could no longer tolerate them, even if they managed to return alive, no one would believe them.
Despised and shunned in the Central Plains but respected and flattered on the grasslands, once their hearts turned cold, all the attachment they once had for their homeland would turn into hatred. They would then truly become the Khan’s most useful right-hand men.
Hu Shen thought the person who came up with this idea was very wicked.
Having surrendered himself, he found those who refused to surrender an eyesore. It was as if as long as one person remained steadfast, it was a constant reminder that he was spineless and lacked character. He was even more afraid that one of Xie Xixiao’s group might actually escape back to the Central Plains with news of everything here, making him the one to be reviled in history.
But Hu Shen did indeed hope Xie Xixiao would surrender soon.
It wasn’t that she cared how many right-hand men the Khan had to unify the Central Plains, but rather that her brother had reminded her that the Khan would bestow women upon these men.
The status of such women couldn’t be too high, as that would be over-honoring them, but too low wouldn’t do either. Grassland women were few to begin with, and those who fit the Khan’s requirements were even fewer.
She happened to be one of the suitable ones.
Her brother was not the Khan’s biological son, but he was no different from an adopted one. He was favored by the Khan and had become a thorn in many people’s sides. If he could force Xie Xixiao to surrender at this time, it would be considered a top merit.
There would be three women promised to Xie Xixiao, including her. In other words, there was actually a scramble to be the one to sire cubs for the man before her.
She was indeed a bit troubled, to the point that her gaze toward Xie Xixiao was quite complex.
“Does Miss Tuoba wish to persuade me as well?”
Xie Xixiao met her gaze, his eyes filled with mockery. “I thought Miss Tuoba would keep up the pretense and remain silent.”
Hu Shen gave him an odd look. “Pretense of what?”
Xie Xixiao seemed to think he had seen through her. He looked down at the now-empty bowl in her hand. “To trick me into trusting you, to entice me to surrender to the enemy.”
Hu Shen shook her head slightly, her gaze turning even more complex. Without answering, she looked him over carefully from head to toe.
In truth, born on the grasslands, her fate was already decided.
Just like her close sister Zhuo Li, she would keep siring cubs. If her husband died, she would sire them for her husband’s brother, because the grasslands needed cubs. They needed the young and strong who could hunt, herd sheep, and go to the Central Plains to seize food.
But if her fate was destined to be so, and if she could choose, she would rather sire them for a grassland man and live a grassland life. Children with Central Plains blood lived very difficult lives, just like her and her brother.
Furthermore… she felt Xie Xixiao wasn’t sturdy enough.
By Central Plains standards, he was probably very handsome. He had a high bridge to his nose, very pale skin, thick brows, and red lips. His eyes were deep, he didn’t have a thick, bushy beard, and there was no messy hair on his chest. He was very tall, and though he was much thinner now than when they first met, his body was still firm and powerful.
But it still came back to that one point: he wasn’t sturdy enough.
Zhuo Li said that when looking for a man, one should find someone fat and sturdy. Being held in his arms at night could block the winter wind, and he wouldn’t die from a single wolf bite.
She thought that made sense because her brother was like that. Perhaps because their mother was a Central Plains woman, her brother wasn’t as sturdy as the other grasslanders. When she and her brother huddled together for warmth in a yurt as children, even though he wrapped her in several layers of sheepskin, he couldn’t block much of the wind.
Moreover, forget being bitten by a wolf—Xie Xixiao was already at death’s door right now. No one knew if he could even hold this breath until the time he surrendered.
Children of Central Plains blood lived hard lives on the grasslands; fatherless children lived even harder lives.
There was also the matter of… even if she wanted to sire cubs with him, how would they do it?
He didn’t look like the type who would submit to her.
He could barely even eat. Moving even a little seemed like it would cost him his last breath. How was he supposed to sire cubs?
Author’s Note:
Five years later:
Xie Xixiao: You fed me like a sheep. I’m going to humiliate you thoroughly. From now on, I must feed you every single bite of food you eat!
Hu Shen: ? Is this right?