Those words instantly unleashed a tempest in Xuanzang’s heart.
Lady Li’s first husband was Cui Jue? After Cui Jue died, she had then married his successor? In other words, Guo Zai had succeeded to Cui Jue’s official post, had moved into Cui Jue’s residence, and had also married Cui Jue’s wife and taken in Cui Jue’s daughter? In other words, this Lady Li — her first husband had hanged himself in this very courtyard, yet after she remarried, she had gone on living in this very same courtyard, even sleeping in the same bed she had once shared with her first husband, and walking each day beneath the tree from which her first husband had hanged himself…
Xuanzang was suddenly overcome by a cold, creeping revulsion.
No wonder Guo Zai’s expression had looked so uncomfortable when Cui Jue’s name came up; no wonder he had so thoroughly examined all the case files and scrolls related to Cui Jue. When Guo Zai had said he didn’t know much about the circumstances, he had probably been trying to deflect. And thinking about it, it was perfectly understandable — you want to investigate a man’s wife’s first husband: was he going to bring his wife out and let you interrogate her in detail?
If Xuanzang’s confusion over the connection between his second brother and Cui Jue had been a maze of tangled knots before, then from this moment onward it was as if he had tumbled into a hundred-yard fog, and suddenly lost all sense of direction.
He closed his eyes gently and turned the matter over carefully in his mind. He immediately understood why Lady Li had treated him so coldly. His appearance bore a vague resemblance to his second brother’s. At their very first meeting, Lady Li had shown astonishment and puzzlement — then immediately began questioning him closely about his origins. It was quite possible she had seen his second brother Changjie in person.
Changjie had driven her husband to his death. Seven years later, a monk bearing a striking resemblance to Changjie appeared before her — anyone would have questioned him thoroughly. And so her coldness toward him was not strange at all. His brother had forced her husband to his death — the fact that she harbored no resentment toward him was already remarkable.
“Boluoye,” Xuanzang opened his eyes and said in a steady voice, “go and inform Madam that Xuanzang requests an audience.”
“Ah — you want to — see her?” Boluoye naturally understood the purpose of Xuanzang’s visit, and after a moment’s pause, he agreed and jumped off the bed and ran out.
Xuanzang slowly set down the Chengshi Treatise and carefully arranged his thoughts, falling into silence.
After a moment, Boluoye came running back: “Venerable master — Lady Li — is in the front hall — waiting for you.”
It was only a few steps from the side room to the front hall. As soon as he stepped out the door, he saw Li Youniang standing on the steps. Her expression was calm; her graceful figure stood like a solitary lotus. Seeing Xuanzang approach, she gave a nod and said: “Venerable master, would you walk with me a while?”
The two walked one after the other, slowly passing through the moon gate on the west side, into the county office’s back garden. The garden occupied five acres; in the center was a pond of about two acres, with water lilies spread flat across the surface. Small green frogs that had just emerged from their winter mud clung unmoving to the lily pads. Within the pond was an island, on the island was a pavilion, and a stone bridge connected the two.
Lady Youniang stepped onto the stone bridge and suddenly stopped, gazing out at the expanse of greenery, and murmured: “I have lived in this county office for twelve years. Every plant and tree here is like a part of my own body. Venerable master — at this moment, stepping onto this stone bridge, what do I feel — familiarity or strangeness?”
“Amitabha Buddha.” Xuanzang could not at first find an answer.
“You put your left hand against your right — what does it feel?” Lady Youniang gave a melancholy smile. “Nothing. No numbness, no surprise — you know it is there, and that is all. This place is like my left hand — a part of my body. If you slash it with a blade, I will ache; if you sever it, it will tear my heart. But looking at it, touching it — there is not a single feeling at all.”
Xuanzang sighed: “Precisely when one puts one’s heart into it, precisely then there is no heart to use. To argue names and distinctions is tiresome work; to speak plainly requires no great effort. Because Madam has applied your heart too heavily, the heart is left with nothing left to apply. One truth contains all truth; one illusion contains all illusion. What Madam clings to — whether illusory or real — you yourself do not know. And without knowing, how can you feel anything?”
“The venerable master’s command of Chan teaching is indeed profound — no wonder you have such great renown.” Lady Youniang looked at him in surprise, then mused: “Venerable master, I already know your purpose for coming. The moment I saw you, I knew that sooner or later you would come to find me.”
“All fruits in existence arise from their causes. This poor monk and Madam are alike — neither of us can escape.” Xuanzang said.
“That is so!” Lady Youniang gave a sigh. “Venerable master — ask whatever you wish.”
“This poor monk only wishes to know: what was the relationship between my second brother Changjie and County Magistrate Cui, and where Changjie is now.”
Having shed the burden on her heart, Lady Youniang no longer concealed anything, and said openly and honestly: “Between those two, there was no prior connection whatsoever. In the years when the late Cui Lang was in hiding in the mountains, we were already married. In those days, the mountain life was secluded, and he rarely had dealings with others. Later, here in Huoyi, the people Cui Lang associated with were mostly those from the court; in building Xingtang Temple, he naturally had considerable contact with Buddhist monks, but most of those were the resident monks of Xingtang Temple — visiting monks from outside were not many. Your second brother Changjie was also something of a notable figure in the sangha; had there been any contact between them, I would certainly have known. There was only that one night — Changjie came to the county office, came in haste and left in haste — and took my husband’s life with him. At the time, I had heard that a strange monk was inside engaged in a Chan discussion with my husband, and I brought my daughter to watch from behind the screen. That person’s appearance…” Lady Youniang bit her lip. “I have that image carved into my very soul. A few days ago when I saw you, I immediately noticed how similar you two were.”
Xuanzang said nothing, feeling a deep pang of loss: “Does Madam know of the various strange occurrences after County Magistrate Cui’s death?”
“How could I not know?” Lady Youniang murmured. “I’m not a fool. After we met by chance in Yizhou, I followed him without hesitation to come to Hedong. We were married ten years — except for the time we lived in the mountains when we were together day and night, once he became county magistrate he was consumed by his duties. The time he spent with his colleagues was more than the time he spent with me; the care he gave to the entire county’s people was more than the care he gave to me and our daughter. Can you imagine? From the inner quarters to the yamen is just a few steps, yet he could go three days and three nights without coming home, poring over official documents in the second hall. And even after death, he lives on in the lives of the people. He can appear in so many of the people’s dreams — yet he never once appears in mine…”
At this kind of inner-chamber grievance, Xuanzang naturally had no experience whatsoever. He furrowed his brows: “Has Madam ever visited the Judge’s Temple on Mount Huo?”
“What would I go there for?” Lady Youniang said coolly. “He doesn’t come into my dreams — and I should go out of my way to visit him?”
Xuanzang genuinely did not understand the intricacies of a woman’s heart, and found this puzzling: “Since Madam holds some resentment toward County Magistrate Cui, why go on living in this residence?”
Lady Youniang was silent for a long time, then sat down on the stone drum at the side of the stone pavilion. Her graceful figure leaned against the railing, and she murmured softly: “What is in the mountains, you ask? / Upon the ridges are many white clouds. / They are mine alone to enjoy — / Not something I could bring to send to you.“
This was a poem by Tao Hongjing of the Southern Dynasties. Tao Hongjing had lived as a recluse in the mountains, earning the nickname “the Prime Minister in the Mountains.” When Emperor Gao of the Qi, Xiao Daocheng, issued an imperial edict asking him to come out of the mountains, asking what could possibly be worth staying for in the mountains, Tao Hongjing replied with this poem. What Lady Youniang meant was: the flavor of this — I see it clearly and take pleasure in it myself, but I cannot make others understand.
Seeing Xuanzang’s silence, Lady Youniang shook her head and sighed: “Cui Lang always had his sights set on all under heaven — he accumulated no savings to speak of. As a county magistrate, his monthly salary was two guan and one hundred cash — barely enough to get by. After his death he left even less behind; fortunately, the authorities allocated thirty mu of land in perpetual tenure that could feed the two of us. Master Guo saw that we were in a pitiful state and did not disdain my widowhood — he married me as his wife. And so I moved back into this county office rear quarters again. Daily seeing these things brings back his memory — of course I feel grief. But every inch of this place carries Cui Lang’s shadow. Sometimes when I walk in this courtyard, it feels as if Cui Lang is still walking beside me…”
As she said this, a trace of joy actually surfaced on Lady Youniang’s face — a sight that inwardly startled Xuanzang. From the way she spoke, she referred to her current husband as “Master Guo” — the depth of feeling she held for Guo Zai in her heart was probably not that of a true wife. Xuanzang could not help but feel sorrow on Guo Zai’s behalf. Such a tall and powerful man, who doted on this woman, deferred to her in everything, and even lavished his affection on the daughter she had brought from her first marriage. Little did he know that in his wife’s eyes, his seven-foot frame was as insubstantial as the air itself — while the man who had already died lingered everywhere before her, impossible to dispel.
“Madam keeps that painting of the court lady hanging on the wall — are you not afraid it will pain Magistrate Guo’s heart?” Xuanzang asked gently. He was a man of great learning and naturally knew the poem written to accompany that painting was not merely a tribute to Lady Youniang’s beauty — the line “her heart lost in morning dreams, the window still dark; / powder fallen, skin fragrant, sweat not yet dry” was clearly a depiction of the aftermath of an intimate encounter, and the line “I sigh that this place is not my own native soil — / unable to watch her, flower-like, year upon year” carried the unmistakable suggestion of a clandestine affair.
Lady Youniang’s face turned red, and a look of confusion came into her eyes: “My current husband is an honest man who has not studied many books. He spent his days fighting the Turks in the north, and only since becoming a county magistrate has he begun to cultivate an air of elegance. He is very good-natured, broad-minded, and has treated our mother and daughter quite well. He also appreciates Cui Lang’s talent, and I have no need to avoid the subject with him. He actually understands, too — that he cannot compare to Cui Lang in my heart.”
Seeing Lady Li in this state of mind, Xuanzang had nothing to say, and only shook his head in silence, thinking inwardly: Knowing that Guo Zai is a good man, you still take a lover and humiliate him. Truly beyond reasoning.
But those words were not his to say. After a while, he asked: “In Madam’s heart — do you not resent this poor monk?”
Lady Youniang fixed her eyes on him and said evenly: “Each drink, each morsel — all is the decree of fate. If Cui Lang had not wanted to die, who could have forced him? He wanted to die, and abandoned our mother and daughter — how could I blame others for that? And besides — you are only Changjie’s younger brother.”
“Amitabha Buddha — this poor monk thanks Madam for your magnanimity.” Xuanzang pressed his palms together in gratitude.
At that very moment, there came a sudden sharp sound — thwang — and both of them looked up. A flash of white light — and an arrow shaft cut across the pond, fast and violent as thunder and lightning, flying straight at Xuanzang!
“Venerable master, be careful—!” Lady Youniang’s face drained of color.
The arrow came far too fast and sudden. Xuanzang had barely managed to turn sideways when the arrow shrieked past his ear — thud — and embedded itself in one of the pavilion’s wooden pillars. The arrow shaft hummed and trembled for a long time before coming to rest, testament to how tremendous a force was behind that shot.
Xuanzang’s forehead was instantly drenched in cold sweat. The two stood stunned for a long moment before they had the presence of mind to look across the water. Across from them, directly at the gateway of the rear quarters, was a row of large scholar trees — dense in branch and limb — and one branch was still shaking violently. It appeared that someone had just been hidden in that tree and fired this arrow into the back garden.
Neither daring to remain in the garden, the two hurried back to the courtyard. Lady Youniang immediately ordered Qiu’er to go and call Guo Zai. When Boluoye heard that Xuanzang had been attacked, he too was badly frightened, and ran to the back garden, pulled the arrow free, and turned it over and over in his hands, examining it.
Guo Zai, upon receiving the news, immediately set aside his official business and came hurrying over with two county captains. Seeing Xuanzang safe and unharmed, he finally let out a long breath — and then flew into a fury, immediately ordering the county captain surnamed Zhu to go and investigate for the perpetrator.
“Your Lordship,” the other county captain, surnamed Liu, said in a somewhat trembling voice, holding the arrow as he approached. His face was unusually grim. “Your Lordship — this arrow — is a military arrow.”
Xuanzang and Lady Youniang did not find this remarkable, but Guo Zai’s face instantly changed: “A military arrow?” He snatched it over and examined it carefully. The arrow was two feet long — a wax-wood shaft, with three white goose-feather fletches, and a long, thick blade that was forged steel — with tremendous penetrating power, capable of piercing through armor. Having spent years on the battlefield, Guo Zai knew this type of arrow all too well — this was a standard-issue military arrow of the Great Tang’s armed forces.
He said nothing, went directly to the pavilion in the back garden, carefully examined the mark on the pillar where the arrow had struck, measured by eye the distance from the tree outside the wall, and said in a low voice: “If this official is not mistaken, this arrow was fired from a composite horn bow.”
“That’s correct,” the county captain Liu also lowered his voice. “From this pillar to that tree is over a hundred and twenty steps. At such a distance, only the infantry’s long bow or the cavalry’s horn bow could reach. The long bow is large — there was no way to bring it up into that tree and draw it. A horn bow is small and flexible — and it would have to be a composite horn bow. But a composite bow’s military arrow can pierce through armor at one hundred and fifty steps — and the force of this particular arrow was not that strong. Either the branches and forks prevented a full draw, or the shooter had weak arms.”
The county captain Liu’s face was still somewhat pale, and he said urgently: “Your Lordship — what I mean is — not to debate the archer’s strength — this is a standard military bow and arrow! If this assassin has connections to the military, then that would be…”
Guo Zai glared: “Keep this in mind: first — after so many years of war, who knows how many such standard military weapons are in private hands throughout the land. I myself have some in my home. There may be no military connection whatsoever. Second — even if there is a military connection, this official will get to the bottom of it regardless. Master Xuanzang is a monk of the highest order; this official absolutely will not allow him to be assassinated under my watch. Is that understood?”
Guo Zai was towering in stature. Before his wife and daughter he was meek and deferential; before Xuanzang he was respectful and humble. But before his subordinates he possessed an absolute authority. Having fought on battlefields for many years, the instant he squared his shoulders and set his jaw, the formidable martial force about him instantly made the county captain feel a measure of apprehension — he could only lower his face and assent.
“Remember — neither the bow and arrow nor the attack on Master Xuanzang is to be spoken of outside,” Guo Zai added with another warning.
“Understood!” This time the county captain Liu answered with unusual alacrity. He thought to himself: even if you told me to speak of it, I wouldn’t. Who knows what kind of serious trouble this might stir up? Even if whoever hired the assassin had no military connection — standard military bow and arrows are not something every household has. Even those who do would only be the powerful and the privileged.
At this point, the county captain Zhu, who had been sent to track down the assassin, returned. His careful investigation confirmed that the assassin had indeed fired the arrow from the scholar tree beyond the wall, but had left behind not a single trace. The place was too close to the main street — in the blink of an eye, the assassin could have slipped into the surging crowd on the street and disappeared completely.
Guo Zai selected six guards with good combat skills from among the yamen runners to stand watch at the main gate and rear gate, with two more in plain clothes patrolling the side street just outside, protecting the whole residence closely.
But Lady Youniang was still uneasy: “Husband — this assassin has a bow and arrow and can kill from a distance. Can this arrangement really hold? If anything should happen to the venerable master…”
“Madam, please don’t worry.” Guo Zai knew she had received a fright today and gazed at her with great tenderness. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll have people watching the elevated positions outside the residence that are suitable for archery — the moment anything stirs, I can immediately call up crossbow teams to take the shooter down.” Seeing that Lady Youniang was not convinced, he explained: “Huoyi is a fortress town — the yamen has fifty longbow-type crossbows, capable of piercing two layers of thick oxhide at three hundred steps. I’ll position four of them in the yamen’s watchtower — if the villain dares come again, blood will spatter on the spot.”
Lady Youniang knew her husband was skilled in military tactics, and finally felt slightly reassured. She lowered her voice: “We absolutely cannot allow Master Xuanzang to die in our home — the Buddha’s wrath would be a disaster beyond reckoning. Husband, you should advise the venerable master to leave Huoyi as soon as possible.”
“Master Xuanzang has important business in Huoyi and will not leave. Mm — I will keep him well protected.” Guo Zai sighed. He thought Lady Youniang did not know Xuanzang’s purpose in coming, and did not elaborate. Though he spoke firmly, his heart was knotted with anxiety. Who would want to assassinate Master Xuanzang? This monk had traveled the realm all his life, bearing no grudge against anyone — why would anyone resort to such an extreme measure against him?
That night, the moonlight still cast the shadow of the paulownia tree onto the window latticework, and Xuanzang too lay turning the same question over in his mind.
His own life had been peaceful and free of conflict. Aside from Yizhou and Chang’an, he had not stayed more than a year in any one place; wherever he went, he was essentially a stranger. How was it that only a few days after arriving in Huoyi, someone wanted to kill him?
Xuanzang was not afraid of death. The assassination attempt in the daytime had not thrown him into panic or alarm. But he had one habit: he could not bear to leave a question unresolved in his heart. When something defied his understanding, he would always pursue it to its root — he would not be satisfied until he had driven it to its absolute conclusion. This was true in his study of the Dharma, and true in everyday affairs as well. It was precisely because of this that when he could not resolve the perplexities of Chan he had traveled the realm as a student monk, seeking out great teachers. When even the great teachers could not dispel more of his doubts, he had made the solemn vow to go to Tianzhu for the Dharma. Perhaps in his heart of hearts, all things and all phenomena were nothing but principles of Chan — every drop, every particle was a secret of the Dharma. The true Dharma was not to be found by reading sutras with one’s gray hair, but by grasping the rhythm of the way of heaven, the way of the world, and the way of humanity.
“There is only one reason someone would want to kill me,” Xuanzang thought to himself. “Changjie’s whereabouts. Changjie’s whereabouts must be tied to something of great importance. I have come to search for Changjie, and this has triggered alarm in certain people. Moreover — only if my current search has already reached close to these people would they be afraid of my going further and try to assassinate me. So — at what point did I draw close to them?”
Xuanzang applied the careful, rigorous thinking he used to analyze canonical texts, probing step by step. Very quickly, the suspicious focus locked onto one person — Lady Li.
He had only been in Huoyi a few days, and apart from Ma Dianli and Guo Zai’s household, almost no one knew he had come here. His search for Changjie had been carried out only through inquiries to Guo Zai and Lady Li. Ma Dianli was clearly an outsider. As for Guo Zai — if he wanted to obstruct him, why bring Xuanzang into his home and let him come into contact with Lady Youniang, who had a connection to Changjie? And even less reason to go to the yamen in the middle of the night to retrieve the seven-year-old likeness of Changjie.
The only one who raised suspicion was Lady Youniang. Changjie had driven Cui Jue to his death; Cui Jue was her first husband. If Changjie was involved in some secret, it was entirely possible that she was also privy to it. Then, when he had spoken with her in the back garden — if someone had been watching at the time, they might well have concluded they were in secret conference, and feared that Lady Youniang was about to let something critical slip — and so had resorted to any means necessary, trying to kill him.
This woman was full of secrets. She had taken a lover — who was that lover? And what did any of this have to do with Cui Jue’s death and Changjie’s disappearance?
Xuanzang sat cross-legged on the bed, having pondered for so long that his head had begun to throb. Boluoye was sleeping soundly in the outer room, snoring loudly enough to shake the earth. In the air floated a faint sweet fragrance — some flower had opened somewhere, its scent drifting far and wide. Just then, Xuanzang suddenly felt his body go numb, his whole frame weak and without strength. His heart gave a cold start; he tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were a thousand times heavier than they should be. He forced them open a crack — then his mind rang out with a thunderous sound, and his thoughts scattered into a sky full of stars, empty and void…
In the outer room, Boluoye’s snoring also abruptly stopped.
Eight hundred li of quicksand, three thousand li of snow-capped mountains — all left far behind. The scene before him shifted, and a majestic and towering sacred mountain rose up before him. It was none other than that ancient temple of the Thunder Sound — the Lingshan, the Numinous Mountain.
And in that Thunder Sound Temple:
Its peak touched the void of the sky; its roots joined the veins of Mount Sumeru. Exquisite peaks arrayed in rows, strange stones looming at intervals. Below the hanging cliffs, jasper grasses and coral flowers; beside the winding paths, purple mushrooms and fragrant spikenard. Above the Hall of the Heavenly Kings, haloes of radiance blazed; before the Dharma-Protecting Hall, purple flames spurted. The Floating Pagoda gleamed; the udumbara flowers breathed out fragrance. Truly — the earth excelling seemed another heaven; the clouds, at ease, made the days seem long. Into this place, no red dust came — all worldly ties were cut — the Hall of the Great Dharma, ten thousand kalpas without blemish.
Earnest and devoted in the heart, seeking the true fruit — this morning, at last, he had come to behold the Tathagata.
Xuanzang’s heart surged with emotion. He came before the Great Treasure Hall, prostrated himself, and said: “Disciple Xuanzang, bearing the imperial decree of the Great Tang Emperor of the Eastern Land, has traveled to this treasure mountain from afar, and humbly beseeches the true scriptures, so as to bring salvation to all living beings. I beg the Tathagata in his compassion to grant me an early return to my land.”
The Tathagata spoke: “Your Eastern Land is the Southern Jambudvipa. Its sky is high and its earth is thick, its things are many and its people numerous — prone to greed and slaughter, excess and deceit, exploitation and fraud; not following the teachings of the Buddha, not turning toward the conditions of good, not respecting the Three Luminaries, not honoring the five grains; disloyal and unfilial, unrighteous and inhumane — concealing the heart, deceiving oneself, using heavy weights and short measures, harming life and slaughtering beasts. The boundless offenses thus accumulated, sins overflowing and evils replete, have given rise to the calamities of the earthly prison, and so all are forever sunk in the darkness below. I have here three baskets of scripture that can liberate from suffering and relieve disasters. Three baskets: there is one basket of dharma, which speaks of heaven; one basket of shastras, which speak of earth; and one basket of sutras, which ferry the dead. In all, thirty-five sections, totaling fifteen thousand one hundred and forty-four scrolls. Truly the path of genuine cultivation, the gateway to righteous goodness — all of heaven and earth throughout the four great continents: their astronomy and geography, their people and animals, their birds and beasts, their flowers and trees, their implements and human affairs — nothing is not contained within.”
Xuanzang’s lifelong ambition was on the verge of fulfillment; his heart was full of contentment. He was just about to bow in gratitude to the Tathagata when suddenly a chill ran through his body, and a pungent, sour smell pierced his nostrils — cutting off his breath — and the whole of him was overcome by a suffocating agony as if about to die.
He started awake in terror, opened his eyes — and his heart instantly went cold as ice. He had been placed at the bottom of a body of water, and was slowly sinking.
By the moonlight filtering through the surface, he could see flowers and trees, a pavilion, a slanted bridge — he was in the pond of the county office’s back garden!
Through the water’s surface, a white-clothed figure stood vaguely on the bank, seeming to look down at him with a cold smile. Xuanzang was terrified. He tried to cry out desperately but could not open his mouth; tried to struggle but his whole body was without strength. He could only watch helplessly as pond water rushed into his lungs and stomach through his nostrils and mouth, choking him into violent coughing — yet all that rose in the water were rolling clouds of bubbles.
In this brush with death, in the span of a single turning thought, Xuanzang suddenly understood what had happened — he had been attacked yet again.
This assassin had somehow slipped into the rear quarters of the county office and used some kind of sedating incense to put him under, then dragged him from his bed to the back garden, and thrown him into the water.
By rights, the shock of cold water should have instantly cleared his mind — but strangely, his body was still completely limp and unresponsive. His eyes could open now, and being pressed by the water they should have stung with pain — yet he felt nothing at all. It was as though this body did not belong to him; he was taking on water continuously yet could not move a single limb.
What a terrifyingly powerful drug!
He stared upward through the water at that person’s silhouette, knowing in his heart that this time, there was no escaping death.
At that very moment, Xuanzang suddenly saw through the moon gate a figure come staggering and stumbling in a run — and that figure was so familiar — it was Boluoye!
Boluoye seemed to be exerting every last ounce of strength, running with terrible effort. That person heard the footsteps and just started to turn their head — when Boluoye tackled them to the ground. The two of them rolled on the ground, locked in struggle.
Boluoye had no strength in his body, so he simply bit — bit down hard enough to make that person shriek and scream, the sound carrying far out into the silent night.
That person, maddened with pain, pressed Boluoye down and began pummeling him savagely. Boluoye, in a fury, arched his spine — his buttocks shot skyward — and his two feet, in an uncanny contortion, extended all the way up to his own shoulders. He kicked them backward, hooking around that person’s chest and both arms; his two arms curled inward, locking around that person’s waist. The two of them instantly entangled into one great ball of flesh.
The bank of the pond was a slope, and the two of them, losing their balance, began to roll toward the water — with a loud splash, they fell in. Once in the water, Boluoye’s mind grew even sharper. His four limbs folded in their uncanny way, like a great octopus with four tentacles, locking that person in a death grip. The two of them sank gurgling toward the bottom.
The sounds of Boluoye and that person struggling, along with the screaming, had already woken the household. Guo Zai came running out in only his undergarment, a sword in hand. The little manservant Qiu’er and the senior maidservant Mo Lan also came running out in disarray.
“What is happening?!” Guo Zai demanded.
“I don’t know!” Qiu’er said in a panic. “I was fast asleep when I heard someone scream, and then there was a splash…”
Guo Zai looked over at the side room where Xuanzang was staying. The door was wide open. He rushed in — no one was inside. His face instantly changed. His enormous frame swept like the wind to the back garden. The moonlight was quite good that night, and he could clearly see a figure submerged in the pond — a monk’s robe billowing up above the surface of the water.
“Master—!” Guo Zai cried out, flung away his sword, and plunged in with a great splash.
The pond had been dug to a more or less uniform depth everywhere, near and far, deep enough to cover a grown man over his head — but Guo Zai’s height was such that once he jumped in, his shoulders were still above the surface. He planted himself in the mud, swung both arms wide, seized Xuanzang, and with a tremendous heave — the rope-like muscles of his shoulders and arms bulging one by one — he hauled Xuanzang bodily up out of the water.
Then with several great strides, he climbed back to the bank. Lady Li had also dressed and come to the edge of the pond, and at the sight of Xuanzang having nearly drowned, her face went white as a flower drained of color. Guo Zai’s expression was iron-grim. He reached out and checked Xuanzang’s breath — it had stopped. He was cautious enough to press two fingers to his pulse — there was still a faint beat.
“Quickly,” Guo Zai commanded, “bring my horse!”
“Your horse…” Qiu’er said with a woeful face. “Your horse is in the yamen stable! By the time I run there and bring the horse back — the venerable master will have died long ago.”
Guo Zai broke into a sweat of anxiety. He looked around, and then had an idea — he grabbed Xuanzang and ran to the pavilion, then lay down on his back on the pavilion’s wide horizontal railing, and had Qiu’er and Mo Lan lay Xuanzang across him face-down, stomach against stomach, and slowly pressed and released Xuanzang’s body.
There were many methods of rescue from drowning. One of the more effective involved laying the victim face-down across the back of a cow or ox, with someone on either side to support them, and leading the animal slowly forward so as to squeeze the water out of the stomach. With no animal available, Guo Zai simply became the ox himself — fortunately, his own stomach was high and firm, more solid even than an ox’s back. Qiu’er and Mo Lan pressed at Xuanzang’s body for a while, and Xuanzang vomited out gush after gush of water, and at last began to breathe again.
Only then did Guo Zai sit up and lay Xuanzang flat on the ground. Lady Youniang quickly ran to the kitchen, got a piece of old ginger, and slowly rubbed it across Xuanzang’s teeth to stimulate his senses. After quite a long time, Xuanzang finally came around.
“Quickly—” Xuanzang’s face was ashen. He raised a hand with great effort and pointed at the pond. “Boluoye…”
Everyone was startled. No one had thought there was still someone in the pond. Qiu’er, with his sharp eyes, spotted something white and indistinct out in the water, and cried out: “Over there—!”
Guo Zai’s heart sank. He jumped back into the water and waded over step by step, approaching that white, indistinct mass in the water. He reached out and grabbed hold, and with great force pushed it up above the surface — both arms bulging with all the force of their muscle.
“Heave—!” Both arms strained, and Guo Zai was suddenly taken aback. Why was this person so heavy? A man of his size, lifting three or four hundred jin, was nothing unusual — yet this person he could not lift?
He reached out and felt again — and touched two heads. He cried out at once: “There are two people!”
Everyone on the bank was equally stunned. Guo Zai saw the two figures tightly wound around each other and had no way to separate them, so had no choice but to half-support, half-push them to the bank, where the three on shore helped pull them up. When they looked, their eyes went wide.
One was naturally Boluoye. His four limbs were folded in their uncanny way, locking the other person’s four limbs in an iron grip, his own body bent and contorted to an inconceivable degree — and with him, that other person had been rolled into a ball no more than two feet in diameter.
Having been submerged this long, there was absolutely no possibility of survival — and indeed the one locked in Boluoye’s grip had already begun to swell from the soaking. But the two still had to be separated, and Guo Zai began to pry at Boluoye’s arms and legs with all his strength. Boluoye’s grip was so tight that Guo Zai grew frustrated and gave a hard wrench — but to his astonishment, Boluoye suddenly opened his eyes and said furiously: “What are you — doing? Trying to — break my — arm?!”
“Ah—!” Guo Zai, brave as he was, had never encountered anything like a corpse sitting up and talking. He let out a startled cry and sat down hard on the ground.
Lady Youniang, Mo Lan, and Qiu’er all screamed. Xuanzang also stared with shocked eyes.
Boluoye spat out a mouthful of water, released his four limbs, and resumed the appearance of a normal human being. He stretched his limbs slowly and climbed to his feet, muttering under his breath: “You — pinched — me — to death.”
Xuanzang had also recovered, and walked over leaning on a pavilion pillar. He asked: “What happened? You were submerged that long, yet you are perfectly fine?”
“This is — Tianzhu — yoga,” Boluoye explained. “I have practiced — since I was small. Can — hold the breath — buried underground — for several hours — without dying.”
“I see.” Xuanzang understood immediately. He had studied Buddhist sutras and the customs of Tianzhu and naturally knew of the Tianzhu art of yoga. It was in fact a method of cultivation; many Tianzhu monks who had come to the eastern land practiced yoga. Some ascetics could rotate their heads backward to see their own spines, and others could extend their legs backward and rest them on their own shoulders. At this time the eastern land did not yet have much understanding of yoga, and Xuanzang regarded it primarily as a kind of unusual art.
Guo Zai and Lady Youniang and the others also exclaimed in amazement — though they were not overly surprised. In the minds of Central Plains people, people from foreign lands and unusual arts were naturally associated. Many of those who came from the Western Regions had some mastery of mysterious things. Especially monks from the Western Regions, who often liked to use unusual arts to attract the interest of emperors and gain the recognition of the court.
“What on earth is going on?” Guo Zai knew without even needing to look at the other figure that the person was dead beyond all saving. A death in his jurisdiction — this was a serious matter.
Xuanzang also knew a human life had been lost, and his expression became grave. He described what had happened in detail. Hearing there had been yet another assassination attempt, Guo Zai’s face grew even darker with anger: “The villain! This time, thanks to Boluoye — otherwise… it is truly terrible to contemplate.”
“I was also — almost knocked out,” Boluoye interjected. “I was sleeping soundly — and suddenly — the suffocation… ” It turned out that while he slept and snored, once the sedating incense began to take effect, he suddenly could not draw breath — and the sensation of suffocation was powerful enough to overpower the effect of the incense, jolting him awake.
“Once I woke up — I felt my mind — drifting — as if floating on clouds…” Boluoye said with lingering alarm. “My body couldn’t move — I knew — something was — very wrong.”
Xuanzang had long grown accustomed to this fellow’s oscillation between foolishness and cleverness. He asked: “So what exactly did you discover?”
“It is…” The word burst from Boluoye’s lips in Sanskrit. He thought for a long while, then said: “This is a terrifying — plant — translated into — the Chinese language — it should be called — cannabis.”
Xuanzang had never heard this word before, and asked him to elaborate.
Boluoye described it in detail. As it turned out, cannabis was a very common plant in Tianzhu. Its bark fibers could be used to make rope, ship’s sails, and fabric, but Tianzhu people had also extracted from its resin a certain substance. When taken or inhaled, this substance produced powerful hallucinatory effects — the whole person felt as if they were floating and ethereal, as though the soul had left the body.
For this reason, Tianzhu monks and Brahmanist worshippers often used cannabis in their rituals to heighten their ability to communicate with divine beings. After taking cannabis, the whole person felt particularly calm, content, relaxed, and at ease, suffused with a sense of well-being and satisfaction — as if suffused with happiness. The people of Tianzhu believed this was a blessing granted by the gods, and held cannabis in the deepest reverence.
Boluoye himself had smoked cannabis in his younger days and was thoroughly familiar with that sensation, which was why he had been instantly alerted.
“But venerable master,” Boluoye lowered his voice. “Cannabis would not — make a person’s — limbs go weak — or their body rigid. The incense must have — something else — mixed in.”
“Oh? What else was mixed in?” This night had been both alarming and greatly educational for Guo Zai as well, and he asked urgently.
“Datura!” Boluoye said in a somber voice, his expression deeply grave.
“Datura?” Xuanzang asked in surprise. He was no stranger to the term — it was a plant, and also a Buddhist term. The Lotus Sutra recorded that when the Buddha expounded the Dharma, mandara flowers fell from the heavens like rain. For monks, this sacred and pure object of Buddhist symbolism referred not only to a flower, but to the supreme Buddhist principle of emptiness and nothingness.
“Yes,” Boluoye said. “Datura flowers — Tianzhu — everywhere. Seeds, fruit, leaves, flowers — all intensely poisonous. We Tianzhu people — use it for pain relief — anesthesia — can render a person unconscious — paralyze the breathing. I myself — have used it. The feeling of being unable to move — feels very similar.”
“So it was knockout medicine!” Guo Zai summed it up in terms he understood.
Xuanzang shook his head. He had experienced the effects of this drug himself — though he had never witnessed knockout medicine in person, in ten years of travel his wide knowledge had naturally included hearing about it. When knocked out by such a drug, one needed only a splash of water to revive. He himself had fallen into the pond, and though his mind had grown clear, his body had been entirely unable to move. This drug was far more powerful than any ordinary knockout medicine. But why did the person trying to murder him possess such an unusual foreign substance?
He did not correct Guo Zai’s characterization, nor did he pursue this line of inquiry. He only asked: “Your Lordship — how did this person gain entry to the courtyard? I recall that you had stationed guards outside — please ensure those guards have not been harmed on my account.”
Guo Zai heard this and also grew anxious. He went personally to check the street outside, and found the two runners were faithfully crouching in their posts behind the trees. When he asked, the two swore up and down that no one had jumped over the wall into the courtyard — they had not once left their posts, and had seen nothing. Guo Zai was puzzling over this when a scream suddenly came from inside the house — unmistakably Lady Li’s voice.
His face changed instantly. His long legs opened up, and in three great strides he rushed back in — only to see Lady Youniang coming out in a hurry to find him. She did not look as though she had been attacked.
“What is it? Madam!” Guo Zai could not bear to see his wife frightened. A man who had looked on mountains of corpses on the battlefield without so much as a twitch of the brow — the moment his own wife was scared, his heart went to pieces. His face went cold with sweat.
“Husband, husband…” Lady Youniang’s face was a mask of shock, and she threw her arms around him, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
Guo Zai was so tall that Lady Li could only reach his chest. He wrapped one arm around her and held her close, saying in a steady voice: “What has happened?”
“That villain — I recognize him!” Lady Youniang said in horror, her body still trembling like a small rabbit.
Guo Zai’s heart sank. He held his wife and carried her almost off her feet with great strides to the moon gate, where he set her down gently and said softly: “I’ll go look. Don’t worry — I’ll take care of everything.”
By this time, Xuanzang and the others stood around the body, all with dazed expressions.
The body had originally been face-down; it had now been turned over. The pallid moonlight fell on a pallid face — eyes protruding like those of a dead fish, terrifying. The person looked quite young — not more than twenty years old at most, with faint eyebrows and a fairly well-proportioned face. He was dressed in a white brocade robe embroidered with gold thread — fine material — now soaking wet and spread out on the ground.
“It’s — it’s him!” Guo Zai felt a wave of dizziness, and his massive frame swayed.
The man who had tried to assassinate Xuanzang was indeed someone he recognized — none other than the second son of the prominent local Zhou family of the county.
Guo Zai had lived in Huoyi for six years and naturally knew the powerful position of a local clan like the Zhou. Their family had been an illustrious aristocratic house since the Northern Wei of the Tuoba clan, generations of officials, having even held the high post of Right Minister of the Secretariat during the former Sui. Though the chaos of the Sui dynasty’s final years had weakened them considerably, they were still a family of the first rank in the Hedong Circuit — not far behind the most eminent clan in Hedong, the Cui family.
And yet now, their second son had drowned in the pond while attempting to murder Xuanzang.
This was a serious matter. Guo Zai dared not delay, and first had Lady Youniang go back to the inner quarters to be with her daughter. Then he threw himself into the busy work — the two runners outside had already come in, and he immediately ordered them to go and find the county secretary, the deputy magistrate, and both county captains, as well as the coroner to come and examine the body and fill out the death report.
This night at the Guo residence passed in turmoil and commotion. Guo Zai had Xuanzang and Boluoye go back to their rooms, with runners posted at the door. He apologized repeatedly, saying it was for the venerable master’s protection — though Xuanzang understood perfectly well that, having been involved in a case with a fatality, extricating himself easily would not be possible.
First Ma Dianli came with the assistant magistrate to take depositions. Xuanzang and Boluoye described everything truthfully, and pressed their handprints on the case record. The assistant magistrate took his leave; Ma Dianli was about to go as well when Xuanzang called him back: “Master Ma, please stay a moment — this poor monk has something to ask.”
Ma Dianli looked uncomfortable, hesitated for a moment, and finally gave a sigh, turned back, and settled onto the bed in the outer room in a kneeling posture. “Venerable master, I truly never imagined that something like this would happen.”
“Indeed,” Xuanzang also sighed. “Nor did this poor monk. What kind of person was the deceased?”
“The second son of the Zhou family,” Ma Dianli said quietly, and gave a general description of the Zhou family’s background.
Xuanzang’s mood also grew heavy: “Master Ma — has it been determined how this young master Zhou entered the Guo residence? I recall that after the incident this afternoon, Magistrate Guo posted guards all around the residence — it would have been quite difficult for anyone to slip in, surely?”
“All six runners have been questioned carefully by the magistrate — none of them left their post, and no trace of how the young master Zhou got in has been found. This remains a mystery.” Ma Dianli felt deep guilt toward Xuanzang — had he not brought Xuanzang to the Guo household in the first place to exorcise spirits for Madam, none of these events would have unfolded.
Xuanzang thought for a moment. He had been concerned all along about Boluoye — getting caught up in a case of homicide was no laughing matter. He asked: “What trouble might my attendant and I face?”
“Venerable master, please don’t worry. Though it is a case of homicide, the basic facts are quite clear. You are the aggrieved party — even if the Zhou family is powerful, they will not dare do anything to you. As for Boluoye…” He glanced at Boluoye, who was crouching on the ground looking dejected. “Under Tang law: whoever enters another’s household without cause at night shall receive forty blows with the light rod. The master of the household who kills such a person in the act commits no offense.”
Ma Dianli continued: “The Tang law is very specific on this point — anyone who intrudes into another’s household at night can be killed by the master of the house without penalty. Moreover, this young master Zhou entered the Guo residence to commit murder, and the evidence of persons and material is all present. However powerful the Zhou family, they cannot overturn heaven.”
Xuanzang finally felt somewhat reassured, and thought for a moment before asking: “Master Ma — was the young master Zhou well acquainted with Magistrate Guo and Lady Li?”
Ma Dianli’s expression became very grave, and he pondered for a long time before saying with an earnest air: “Venerable master — I should not be the one to say this — but, you suffered this ordeal all because of me…” He sighed with a pained expression. “The relationship between the Guo household and the Zhou family is anything but ordinary — more precisely, it is Lady Li who has close ties to the Zhou family. As the venerable master is surely aware, Lady Li has a daughter named Lv Luo, now just sixteen years of age. Lady Zhou is very fond of Lv Luo, and this second son was completely devoted to Lv Luo — he had sent someone to propose marriage, and both Magistrate Guo and Lady Li were in favor of it. However, Lv Luo herself refused. The young master Zhou still would not give up. It so happened that Lady Zhou was accomplished on the stringed instruments, and arranged for Lv Luo to come and study music — gradually wearing down the girl’s resistance. From what I hear, Lv Luo has become more and more eager about her lessons, and both families thought the matter was looking promising — but who could have expected…”
Xuanzang’s heart slowly sank. The deceased had been Guo Zai’s intended son-in-law. No wonder Guo Zai and Lady Youniang had reacted so strongly — this was truly a shock.
Xuanzang’s thoughts were in disarray, yet he suddenly recalled something: “Master Ma — once the face of the deceased was clearly visible, Lady Li almost fainted, and Magistrate Guo was also greatly shaken — but the young miss did not show her face even once. Do you know if there is anything significant in that?”
“Is that so?” Ma Dianli was also surprised, and said thoughtfully: “Lv Luo is a person I don’t know very well — I rarely see her. You have probably already heard, venerable master, that Lady Li remarried after her first husband’s death?”
Xuanzang nodded: “I know. I also know that her first husband was County Magistrate Cui Jue.”
A bitter smile crossed Ma Dianli’s face. “That’s right. I have heard two things about Lv Luo. First: after Lady Li remarried Magistrate Guo, Lv Luo insisted on keeping her own surname, and has always gone by Cui. Second: I have heard that even now she does not address Magistrate Guo as ‘Father’ — when they meet, she only calls him ‘Your Lordship.’ Ha, about the first — Magistrate Guo can do nothing about it. About the second — he absolutely refuses to admit it, insisting that in Lv Luo’s home region, it is the local custom to call one’s father ‘Your Lordship.’ Heh heh — in years past, it made all the colleagues laugh quite a bit. Yet Magistrate Guo still dotes on this young lady unconditionally — she is truly the apple of his eye, the dearest thing to his heart. Whatever Lv Luo asks, he sees to immediately, even more readily than if Madam had asked.”
The two chatted for a little while longer, and by the time the conversation wound down, the sky had grown light. Ma Dianli yawned and took his leave.
Guo Zai and the others had been busy all night, and were even busier when morning came. When the Elder Zhou heard that his son had died and was moreover charged with the crime of attempted murder, he was so overcome with rage that he nearly fainted, and burst into the county office with a group of people demanding justice. But the early Tang had strict governance, and regardless of his wealth and power, with the evidence of persons and material before him airtight on every side, there was nothing he could do.
The only remaining points of uncertainty were these: first, how had young master Zhou gotten into the Guo residence? Second, why had he tried to kill Xuanzang? Third, where had he obtained such a terrifying sedating incense?
On the first point, Guo Zai and the others were equally at a loss. The young master Zhou was not entirely helpless — having lived through the age of chaos, he could at least ride a fierce horse and draw a hard bow — but climbing over the county office’s two-and-a-half-zhang-high walls would have been absolutely impossible.
On the second point, let alone Guo Zai — even Xuanzang himself had no idea. What grievance could he possibly have with a prominent young master he had never met? And even if the young master Zhou truly did bear some grudge against him, with the wealth and influence of the Zhou family, wouldn’t it have been far more reliable to spend a few dozen guan of money to hire a professional assassin? Why take the risk of breaking into the heavily guarded county office to do it personally?
On the third point, there was no way to investigate any further — the person was dead, and had been soaking in water; whatever incense there might have been had been dissolved and washed away. There was nothing physical to examine.
The case had barely been opened before it became a cold case. And as Ma Dianli had said, Xuanzang himself was not affected — Boluoye too had only been made to give a statement and was then released. The county office required them not to leave Huoyi or depart from the district without reporting to the authorities until the case was resolved.