Tuoba Xiao had always been a young general, only…
“Hm?” Tuoba Xiao hadn’t expected her to bring up conditions. His prominent brow lowered, and his aura shifted instantly—like a drawn blade flashing cold light, sharp and imposing.
A gust of wind swept in from behind him, lifting his long hair and the hem of his robe, giving him a wild, almost ferocious edge.
Standing so close, Jiang Congyan could even feel the edge of his fluttering robe brush against the back of her hand—like a thin blade lightly grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her.
Her heart pounded as if it might leap out of her chest, yet she stood her ground, neither retreating nor avoiding him.
This was a bold test. Aside from that brief encounter the other night, Jiang Congyan knew little about Tuoba Xiao’s character.
As for how later generations described him—what happened in the Hall of Supreme Harmony had already proven that history books could not be fully trusted. A man’s achievements did not necessarily reflect how he treated his wife.
A righteous general might scorn his lawful spouse, while a treacherous minister might still be devoted and filial to his parents.
So she wanted to test his attitude toward her—this would be crucial for her future plans.
A thin sheen of sweat formed in her palms. She forced down her nerves, trying to appear calm.
She hadn’t intended to make demands before coming, but from their earlier exchange, she realized Tuoba Xiao seemed more tolerant of her than she had expected. That emboldened her to push further—though she wasn’t sure whether it might anger him.
To her surprise, Tuoba Xiao actually agreed.
“Speak.”
When he first heard she had conditions, he had indeed felt a flash of displeasure. Ever since ascending the Xianbei throne, no one had dared make demands of him like this. She had even threatened not to marry him if he refused.
How could someone he, Tuoba Xiao, had set his sights on simply decide not to marry?
But when he met her clear, resolute eyes—like glass, black and white so distinct—the irritation in his heart was extinguished, as if doused with cold water.
What had first drawn him to her was precisely this uncommon resilience and courage.
That she could stand against him without fear—good.
It was as though he had obtained a rare treasure. At first glance, it was stunning; yet upon closer inspection, it revealed even more surprises, making it increasingly impossible to put down.
Jiang Congyan quietly studied him. Though his features were sharp, his gaze remained relatively calm, which reassured her slightly.
“First,” she said, “since you are marrying me as your principal wife, then you must treat me according to the customs of a Han principal wife—respect me, and never force me to do anything against my will.”
Tuoba Xiao found this reasonable. She was Han, after all—likely unaccustomed to steppe culture. The request was not excessive.
“Agreed,” he said.
“Second, after I marry, my dowry will be managed by me.”
That, too, was acceptable. He had never intended to covet her dowry. He nodded. “Agreed.”
“The third condition…” Jiang Congyan paused.
“What is it?”
The first two had been so easy that he assumed the third would be just as simple. Yet when she spoke, he was momentarily stunned.
Her gaze drifted downward from his eyes to his jaw, lightly covered in stubble. She blinked.
“I want you to shave your beard clean.”
“Hm?” A low sound of confusion came from his throat.
He hadn’t expected this at all. His expression shifted from surprise to something faintly strange and puzzled.
Among the Xianbei, whether one kept a beard or not was not strictly required, though most did—especially military men, as beards added to their authority, and they had little time for grooming.
In this era, what was valued in a leader’s appearance was not mere handsomeness, but dignity and presence. Thus most men wore neatly trimmed beards, while only a few civil officials preferred a clean, refined look.
Tuoba Xiao was tall and imposing. Though young, his presence was already formidable; he did not rely on a beard for authority. He simply lived roughly and never bothered to trim it, letting it grow to about half an inch.
“Why?” he asked.
Jiang Congyan tilted her head slightly, the tassels at her temple swaying gently.
“Because I like gentlemen with refined, clean features,” she said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. It broke her usual calm demeanor, bringing out the lively charm of a seventeen-year-old girl.
Tuoba Xiao fell silent for a long moment.
The third condition seemed simple, yet it was more troublesome than the first two. The earlier promises could be tested later—but shaving, once agreed to, meant he would truly have to do it.
His gaze fixed again on her bright, delicate face. After a while, he raised a hand to touch his beard. Perhaps he thought that standing beside someone so beautiful, his rough, unkempt look did seem mismatched—almost like a beauty paired with a brute.
After a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, he finally nodded.
“Fine. I agree,” he said loudly, though his tone carried a hint of gritted teeth.
Seeing his expression, Jiang Congyan almost laughed.
This Tuoba Xiao wasn’t quite as brutal as the rumors suggested.
Having achieved her goal in coming here, Jiang Congyan took her leave. But just as she turned, a strong hand suddenly gripped her arm.
Hot—just like that night.
The warmth seeped through the thin fabric into her skin.
“Didn’t you want me to shave? Why rush off? Stay and see if I become the kind of man you like.”
There was a trace of irritation in his last words—perhaps her remark about liking refined gentlemen had displeased him.
Tuoba Xiao ordered water and a blade to be brought, then went to the rear hall.
Since he wouldn’t let her leave, Jiang Congyan stayed. She found a low couch in the hall and sat, reflecting on what she had gained today.
Though she still didn’t know why he favored her, it seemed his tolerance for her was fairly high. As long as she didn’t touch upon his grand ambitions or sensitive matters, he likely wouldn’t make things difficult for her.
That was an unexpected piece of good news.
She would soon marry alone into the distant northern lands. Though she would bring attendants and guards, she couldn’t help feeling uneasy.
It was a foreign land thousands of miles away, inhabited by people completely different from those of the Central Plains. Their food, lifestyle—everything was vastly different. Even basic communication would be difficult.
All of these would become obstacles for her. And in the end, the only person she could rely on would be Tuoba Xiao.
Her honor and fate would rest on his favor.
It wasn’t what she wanted—but it was the path she had no choice but to walk. Once she left Liang, it would be difficult to see her family again…
Lost in thought, she suddenly heard steady, powerful footsteps. Tuoba Xiao emerged from the inner hall.
She looked up—and her eyes widened.
He was like a completely different person.
She had known he wasn’t unattractive—he could even be called handsome. His forehead was full, his brow ridge prominent, his eyebrows thick and sword-like, full of masculine vigor. His eyes were well-shaped too, though their green hue and cold, fierce intensity made people hesitate to look closely—overlooking the fact that they were elegant phoenix eyes, long and narrow, sharp at the inner corners and soft at the outer edges.
With his high-bridged nose, his features had a sculptural beauty—but before, it had been hidden beneath his rough beard.
Now, clean-shaven, his sharply defined jawline and chin stood out, complementing his striking features. There was even a hint of mixed-blood beauty.
His mother had been Han—he was indeed of mixed heritage.
Aside from the strong bone structure around his eyes, the lower half of his face could easily pass for Han, softening his foreign aura. Coupled with his youth, firm facial contours, and tall, solid build, he looked less like a king and more like a young general riding a white horse with a silver spear.
No—Tuoba Xiao had always been a young general. He just happened to also be the King of Xianbei.
Seeing her stare at him in a daze, Tuoba Xiao stepped closer, until he stood before her like a mountain. Looking down at her, he asked:
“Well?”