Lianhua Ye lay still in the pool of blood. Her skull had been shattered, and from the wound on her head and from below, blood poured in such quantity it nearly formed rivers.

Posomi bent down and carefully lifted the infant. But at that very moment, the gates of the palace suddenly burst open, and a great number of men on horseback surged out. At their head were Na Shun, Vani, and several ministers and generals. It transpired that after King Harsha passed away, everyone had quickly deliberated and decided to temporarily conceal his death, and to first go to Brahmadita Village to bring Lianhua Ye before announcing King Harsha’s passing.

Na Shun, anxious about Lianhua Ye’s imminent delivery, had immediately led everyone out of the palace — and never imagined that the moment they passed through the palace gates, he would suddenly see Posomi standing outside the palace wall holding an infant, while on the ground lay Lianhua Ye!

“Lianhua Ye —” Na Shun let out a piercing cry. He nearly fell from his horse, rolling and scrambling to throw himself to Lianhua Ye’s side, clutching her, fussing desperately over her face, calling out: “Lianhua Ye — wake up! Na Shun is here! Your Na Shun has come!”

Lianhua Ye seemed to hear him. She struggled to open her eyes, but they were heavy as a thousand weights and would not open no matter how she tried.

“I… can no longer see you, Na Shun…” Lianhua Ye struggled to give voice to the words.

Na Shun wept: “I can see you. I’m holding you. Right here at your side.”

“Na Shun…” Lianhua Ye murmured, “I have given you a son…”

“I know, I know. Lianhua Ye — the two of us have a son,” Na Shun said, tears streaming, sobbing. “You must live on. We will watch our son grow up together. You cannot leave us.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Lianhua Ye’s voice grew ever fainter. “I… I promised I would… stay with you… all this life… but I’m afraid… I’ve missed it again. Once more… you will have to trouble yourself… to find me in the next life.”

“No —” Na Shun pressed his face against hers, heartbroken. “No — I don’t want a next life. I spent such effort finding you. I want you to live!”

“May I be granted in the next life… one graceful and noble form… like the color and fragrance of a blue lotus… beautiful and moving. May I be granted in the next life… one devoted and loving companion… like time itself at my side, like breath itself near me… until death… never forsaken.” In the final radiance before death, Lianhua Ye spent every last remnant of her life to recite the vow made thirty-three lifetimes before. “Na Shun… I will wait for you… come and find me… you must find me!”

Lianhua Ye’s face wore a smile, a smile that froze within Na Shun’s embrace, frozen within his heart. The body in his arms grew slowly cold. Her complexion, already pale, drained further of color, turning as bleached and fragile as a lotus petal. Na Shun wailed in anguish, roaring in grief.

Vani walked over, pressed his fingers to Lianhua Ye’s neck, and said with bitterness: “The Queen Consort… has passed away.”

“Nonsense!” Na Shun shoved him away furiously. “Nothing in this world can kill her. She has passed through thirty-three lives of reincarnation. She can only die at the foot of a palace wall, at the hands of a great and virtuous one —”

He broke off. Na Shun raised his head and looked at the brilliantly illuminated palace, then looked at Posomi standing to one side.

“You killed her?” Na Shun said, tears flowing, laughing and weeping at once. “You killed my Lianhua Ye? You are the Devadatta who struck down the Buddha?”

Posomi, facing this situation, was also somewhat stunned. His calculations had been without equal — even Xuanzang had not bested him in wits. He had maneuvered his way to a glorious Harsha Empire — but killing Lianhua Ye was never part of his plan. When he had caught up with Lianhua Ye outside the palace wall, his mind consumed entirely by one thought — that Lianhua Ye must not be allowed to meet Na Shun, that Na Shun must not learn of his scheme — he had acted almost instinctively, picking up a huge stone and smashing it down on Lianhua Ye’s skull.

For thirty years, he had chosen Lianhua Ye, had poured into her the story of thirty-three reincarnated lives, had told her that she would inevitably encounter Devadatta the Buddha-slayer, had instilled in her that she would inevitably die at the foot of a palace wall. Now, gazing at Lianhua Ye’s body, he thought in a dazed way: could it be that thirty years of relentless instillation had also worked its way into his own soul? Why had he become a figure who could only appear in a fabricated destiny?

Posomi suddenly felt a trace of irony. In year after year of instillation of Lianhua Ye, he had spoken again and again of Devadatta — and it was none other than himself.

“It was I,” Posomi said bitterly. “I killed her.” He walked forward and held out the infant to Na Shun. “This is your son.”

Na Shun, trembling, took his child. The child could not yet open its eyes, yet the more Na Shun looked at it, the more it resembled Lianhua Ye — the same delicate, lustrous features, the same crystalline fairness, those brows, those lips, that face — like a blooming lotus flower.

“Lianhua Ye — do you hate fate? Did you want to go on living in this way? Did you want to use a son to stay by my side in your place?” Na Shun murmured, sobbing in anguish. “Lianhua Ye — I will take you with me, take our son with me, and leave this place forever. We will be together always.”

The people around fell silent. Only the nervous war-horses snorted and pawed at the ground, only the burning torches crackled and popped, punctuating the stillness of the dark night.

Vani lowered his voice to remind him: “Na Shun — you promised King Harsha you would be the empire’s Emperor!”

“I don’t want to be Emperor!” Na Shun roared. “After I’ve taken my revenge, I want to leave this filthy place forever! Kill him!” Na Shun wheeled and bellowed at the Kshatriya guards. “Tear him to pieces!”

The Kshatriya guards exchanged uncertain glances, then turned as one to look at Vani. Vani and the senior ministers exchanged looks, all of them somewhat at a loss.

“You are not yet Emperor,” Posomi said impassively. “By what authority do you order my death?”

“I —” Na Shun looked at the child in his arms, looked at this towering palace, and struggled in hesitation.

“Now do you understand?” Posomi said coldly. “Now do you understand the difference between Tirabhukti and the Harsha Empire? What power can truly give you? What force the army can give you? Without an army, you had no way at all to protect the person you loved. Without power, even if I killed Lianhua Ye, you could do nothing to me! Why did Lianhua Ye die? Because you are a fool! A fool who did nothing but hide himself away in the Brahmadita traveling palace, playing at being a fake king, deceiving others and deceiving yourself! You believed that being a king in name alone meant you could protect Lianhua Ye? Now you see — you could not protect her at all! Because this kingdom of yours is a false one; no one takes you seriously! When someone kills the person you love most, you cannot even raise a fist against them!”

“Enough!” Na Shun bellowed with wild fury, his eyes wide with rage.

“You could not protect her in this life — you will not be able to protect her in the next!” Posomi sneered savagely. “Lianhua Ye has already passed through thirty-three lives of reincarnation. She will continue to reincarnate. She is still in this endless cycle of reincarnation. When the day comes that she is born again and grows up, she will face calamity once more, and she will once again have her skull shattered at the foot of this magnificent palace wall! Na Shun — just watch with open eyes!”

Posomi laughed with long, mocking peals. Na Shun stood transfixed. He turned back around, staring at the magnificent palace wall behind him, at the Kshatriya guards standing with their horses before the palace, and suddenly his entire body began to tremble.

Na Shun suddenly fixed his gaze on Vani, and said with grave seriousness: “I will become Emperor!”

“Truly?” Vani and the others were overcome with joy.

Na Shun raised the child in his arms: “I will become Emperor. I will wait at the foot of this palace wall. Someday, Lianhua Ye will be reborn and grow up, and she will come to me graceful and willowy. I will become the most powerful king in this world, so that no one will ever be able to harm her again!”

Vani looked at the infant in his hands and suddenly noticed the red mole on the child’s earlobe. He was instantly struck dumb. He and a few senior ministers deliberated for a moment; they took the infant and turned it over and over, examining it. All of them were moved to tears, their eyes streaming.

Vani and the senior ministers together knelt before Na Shun: “The Harsha Empire will fight for you! Our King!”

Na Shun felt no great joy — rather, it was Posomi who heaved a long breath of relief. He had truly feared that after killing Lianhua Ye, Na Shun would take the child and leave. That would have brought decades of scheming to ruin.

“And this person?” Vani pointed at Posomi. “What is to be done with him?”

Na Shun gave a cold, bitter laugh, his face suffused with boundless hatred and dark intensity: “Cast him into the Seven-Layered Prison!”

The next day, great bells rang out across the entire city of Kanauj, announcing to the Indian subcontinent the passing of King Harsha. The Five Indias were shaken. King Harsha had reigned for forty-one years. Inheriting the ambitions of his father and elder brother, he had taken the throne at sixteen with only Thanesar as his base, first subjugating Malwa, then annexing the Maukhari kingdom, then destroying the Gauda kingdom. Campaigning without ceasing for decades, he had conquered more than thirty states and ultimately established a great united era unprecedented since the collapse of the Gupta Empire. In the latter years of King Harsha’s reign, the empire enjoyed peace and stability, strength and prosperity, with all castes and religious factions living in harmony — a rare period of unity and peace in the history of India.

For India, the passing of such an emperor was a world-shattering event. But what astonished people even more was that the newly enthroned Emperor was a man no one had ever heard of, called Aluona Shun. Reportedly, King Harsha had written an imperial edict on his deathbed entrusting the empire to him. This man, after ascending the throne, took the title of King of Tirabhukti and issued edicts to all the vassal kings of the empire, commanding them to come to Kanauj to attend the old emperor’s funeral and the new emperor’s coronation.

At this, the entire Indian subcontinent was thrown into an uproar.

Apart from the few kings in the immediate vicinity of Kanauj who had no choice but to come, all the other kings refused to obey the summons. Led by King Kumara, they issued a statement of protest that gave voice to the feelings of all the kings: first, this man was not of the Vardhana bloodline — on what basis did he have the right to succession? Second, this man had been obscure and unknown before, yet now occupied a high position — was there trickery or usurpation involved? Third, aside from Vani and a few ministers, there was considerable dissent within the court as well — could it be that Vani and others had falsified the imperial edict to elevate this man to power in order to maintain their own authority?

King Kumara even joined with fifteen great states to demand that Vani and the others provide an explanation — failing which, they would raise their armies to crush the rebellion and avenge King Harsha.

This could not but be said to reflect a miscalculation on King Harsha’s part. When arranging the imperial edict, he had concerned himself only with ensuring that the court internally accepted Na Shun’s succession — and in that, he had been very successful; the entire transition of power had been quite smooth. But he had neglected the external situation entirely.

The Harsha Empire was unlike Great Tang. It was not a unified dynasty, but a Samanta kingdom system. The empire governed over thirty kingdoms; each, beyond paying tribute and nominal submission, possessed full and independent sovereignty. When King Harsha was alive, these kingdoms submitted absolutely; any that occasionally showed defiance were immediately suppressed, and the empire possessed overwhelming military superiority. King Harsha therefore never thought there was anything improper about installing Na Shun as Emperor — as long as Vani and the regent ministers stood together in solidarity, the empire would not be overturned.

But King Harsha had neglected the external dimension. The relationships among thirty-some kingdoms were hopelessly complex and tangled. When suddenly a ruler in his twenties appeared out of nowhere — a man no one recognized — the trouble was immense. Everyone’s first question was: who was backing this young man? Whose interests did he represent? What ambitions did he harbor himself? What threat would he pose to their own kingdoms?

People have ambitions, and rumors immediately spread — that this man had in fact been elevated to power by Vani, that it was usurpation and rebellion, and calls went out for all to denounce him. Na Shun and his associates were immediately thrown into a difficult position; Vani and the others were frantic, sending envoys one after another to explain to the various kings. But since Vani could not actually state the reasons for Na Shun’s enthronement, the kings became even more convinced that Vani was a behind-the-scenes usurper. Matters grew ever more tangled until sixteen states simply formed an alliance, demanding punishment of the usurper and revenge for King Harsha. Even the common people were full of talk, saying Na Shun was a usurper and Vani was manipulating the government from behind the scenes. The entire empire teetered on the edge of collapse.

Kanauj. The palace gate.

Na Shun stood on the high palace wall, gazing out over the city of Kanauj prostrate at his feet. Below the wall, the trace of blood from that night a month past seemed not yet fully washed away; it still stabbed his eyes red.

Chancellor Vani and the military Marshal Chanda attended behind him. In these days, Na Shun barely held court, spending day after day ascending the palace wall, running his hand along the blue stones, gazing at the place where Lianhua Ye had bid him farewell that night, lost in sorrow. Vani knew — he was waiting for the day, a decade or more hence, when a graceful young woman would walk toward him.

In these days, whenever Na Shun could not be found, Vani and Chanda would have to run up to the palace wall to make their reports.

“Your Majesty — King Kumara, joined by five states in the east, has explicitly demanded Your Majesty’s abdication. Furthermore, in the Five Rivers region, led by the state of Valabhi, four states have formed an alliance, driven away our envoys, and declared their intention to move in lockstep with King Kumara. Furthermore, Your Majesty, your servant has received confirmed intelligence that led by King Kumara and the King of Valabhi, sixteen states in total are secretly drawing up a military pact,” Vani said.

Na Shun struck the battlements furiously: “I will never abdicate! Why should we negotiate with them? I have so many generals, so many troops — why should we negotiate with them? Before I took the throne, it was you who guaranteed to me that the empire’s army could destroy every enemy, crush mountains and rivers!”

Marshal Chanda gave a pained smile: “The empire’s army can certainly conquer every enemy. But… this battle cannot be fought! If we truly go to war with sixteen states, the empire will fracture! And these sixteen states are spread to the four sides and eight directions of Kanauj — do we engage them one by one, or do we split the army into sixteen forces? It cannot be done!”

“If we cannot fight sixteen states, then fight one!” Na Shun gritted his teeth. “It is King Kumara driving everything behind the scenes — destroy King Kumara first!”

The two men exchanged glances. Vani steeled himself: “King Kumara’s strength is second only to ours. To destroy him, we must commit two-thirds of the army. But that would leave Kanauj undefended — if the other kingdoms seize the moment and attack, what then?”

“It is for you to tell me what to do — not for me to tell you!” Na Shun grew exasperated.

The two men shook their heads in despair. Faced with this situation of enemies rising on all sides, both of them felt they were losing their footing. Just then, an attendant came in: “Your Majesty — Venerable Posomi, imprisoned in the Seven-Layered Prison, requests an audience.”

“Refused!” Na Shun snapped. “I haven’t had time to deal with him yet — does he come looking for death?”

“Your Majesty,” the attendant said in a low voice, “he says… he says he has a way to resolve the empire’s crisis.”

Na Shun was taken aback. He thought for a moment: “Let him appear before me! Hmph — if he talks nonsense, I’ll boil him alive!”

Before long, Posomi was escorted under guard by the Kshatriya soldiers, shackled in irons, and brought up to the palace wall. He had been imprisoned in the Seven-Layered Prison — a dungeon deep in the earth, cutting off all contact with the outside world. But Posomi had cultivated for two hundred years and was a master of yoga; in the past he had gone into solitary retreat in the great snow mountains, sitting motionless for months without the slightest tedium. When he walked up onto the palace wall, Na Shun was immediately irritated — this old fellow was looking quite well.

Posomi walked calmly before Na Shun, clasped his hands in greeting: “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

Na Shun regarded him with a cold, dark stare: “Posomi — do you know why I haven’t killed you?”

“I know,” Posomi said with a smile. “Your Majesty has been too busy lately to get around to it.”

Na Shun nodded: “Since you know that, it means you haven’t come here looking for death. Speak then — how to resolve the empire’s crisis. You have only two possible outcomes: either you drive back the sixteen-state coalition, or I cut off your head on the spot!”

Posomi smiled calmly: “Does Your Majesty know why the empire’s military might, which dominates all of India, has not deterred King Kumara and the sixteen states from their provocation?”

“Because they think I am easy to bully! I will make them understand sooner or later that the price of offending me can only be washed away in blood and human heads!” Na Shun said coldly. He had been Emperor for only a month, yet the dignity of a ruler had already begun to form within him — imposing, decisive, even ruthless.

Posomi shook his head and said: “It is not that Your Majesty is easy to bully. With the empire’s military might, even if all sixteen states joined forces in open battle, they would not need to be feared. But the majority of the sixteen states are located to the east and west of Kanauj — they can attack from two sides simultaneously. There are also a few states to the north and south of Kanauj. In this way, Your Majesty would be fighting on four fronts simultaneously — under such conditions, no one could win.”

“Exactly!” Marshal Chanda nodded repeatedly. “Dispersed fighting not only weakens our forces, it also extends our supply lines. The moment any one point is breached, the consequences would be devastating.”

“Then what is your idea?” Na Shun asked.

“Your Majesty needs only to find one ally to tie down the coalition forces on one front, and then concentrate our forces to strike the coalition on another front — they will certainly collapse at a single blow,” Posomi said impassively. “It is even possible that simply by finding this ally, the sixteen-state coalition will not dare to go to war at all.”

“Oh?” Vani said hesitantly. “If one front of the coalition could be tied down, the empire could certainly destroy the enemies on the other front. But on the Indian subcontinent, apart from the Chalukyas of the south, is there any other state that could intimidate a coalition of several kingdoms? Are you suggesting we seek aid from the Chalukya kingdom?”

The Chalukya kingdom was a great power of southern India. In earlier times King Harsha had campaigned south, and it was the Chalukyas who had defeated him — that was why there were only three of the five Indias, and from that point on, the two sides had maintained their boundaries without crossing into each other’s territory.

“Certainly not — the Chalukyas are far too powerful, and they have always been enemies of the empire. Why invite a wolf into the house?” Posomi said. “This old monk speaks of another.”

“Who exactly?” This time even the senior ministers were curious and pressed him to say.

“The Persians,” Posomi said. “Yazdegerd III.”

At these words, everyone present gaped in astonishment. Vani and Chanda immediately led the objections.

“Absolutely not!” Vani said first. “Yazdegerd III is a man of predatory ambitions — we fought a battle with him only a few years ago, leaving blood debts on both sides. How could we possibly seek his aid?”

“Exactly,” Chanda also objected. “Once the Persians cross the Indus River, the consequences would be unthinkable — another disaster of foreign invasion.”

Posomi smiled and looked on as the others argued, saying nothing.

Na Shun thought for a moment: “Posomi — can you persuade my ministers?”

“I can,” Posomi said. “This old monk asks only two questions. What does the sixteen-state coalition want?”

“To overthrow me, of course!” Na Shun said in irritation. “To carve up my empire!”

“And what does Yazdegerd III want?” Posomi asked.

“He —” Na Shun knew Yazdegerd III quite well. “He wants to enter the Five Rivers region and take refuge.”

“There we have it then,” Posomi said. “The states of the Five Rivers region have already betrayed the empire — why not bring the Persians in to restrain them? Once the Persians enter the Five Rivers region, they will inevitably come into friction with the state of Valabhi. In this way, the Persians will pin down the rebel forces in the west, and in order to establish their foothold, the Persians will also have to submit to Your Majesty in exchange for your support. The western front would then be secure; if King Kumara proves uncooperative, you can concentrate all forces against him and surely sweep him away. After that, turn west and conquer Valabhi. In this way, the sixteen-state coalition will be reduced to ash and smoke.”

Na Shun was tempted. But Vani said anxiously: “Your Majesty — we absolutely must not! The Persians are a foreign people — once they enter the Five Rivers region, the Indus River barrier will be in their hands. Then, should we not manage the situation carefully, it will bring about another calamity of foreign invasion like that of the Hephthalites!”

“A Hephthalite-style invasion?” Na Shun said coldly. “I’m afraid the Hephthalites won’t even have time to arrive before my empire is destroyed!”

“Your Majesty!” Vani threw caution aside. “In those days it was King Harsha who campaigned west and defeated the Persians. Now you have inherited King Harsha’s imperial throne, yet you propose to invite the Persians in — how will you answer to the empire’s subjects?”

“I am the Emperor — I need answer to no one!” Na Shun bellowed.

“In any case, this is absolutely not acceptable!” Vani said with firm resolve. “Our India’s internal strife must not invite a foreign invasion! Otherwise, both you and I would be the sinners of India!”

“Chancellor,” Na Shun said, without looking at him — he was gazing down at the foot of the palace wall, as if he could still see Lianhua Ye’s blood, and through gritted teeth he said: “Whoever seeks to usurp my empire is my enemy who cannot share the same sky with me! To hold this stretch of palace wall, I am willing to be the enemy of all the world!”

Vani fell silent for a long while. Suddenly he raised his head, with a look of resolve: “If you truly insist on inviting the Persians to invade, then please forgive my impertinence — I must call upon the court ministers to deliberate and depose your imperial throne!”

“You seek to depose me?” Na Shun suddenly fixed his gaze on him. “It was you who begged me to take the throne, and now you seek to depose me? Am I nothing more than a plaything to be manipulated at will?”

“It would be only a deposition,” Vani said, “after which your son would be enthroned in your stead, and we would continue to treat you with full respect.”

“My son on the throne?” Na Shun let out a desolate laugh, and suddenly pointed below the city wall, bellowing: “Will my son stand watch on this palace wall day after day? Will my son search the whole world to find the mother he has never met? Until I find Lianhua Ye in her next life, I will hold this seat — fast! No one shall take it from me!”

Na Shun roared at the top of his lungs, and suddenly drew the short sword from his waist and plunged it into Vani’s chest. Everyone on the palace wall was thunderstruck — even Vani was thunderstruck. He seemed not to feel the pain in his chest; he simply pressed his hand to the wound and stared blankly at Na Shun. He had been the one to put this man in power — how could he kill him? How could he?

Marshal Chanda cried out: “Your Majesty — he is the Chancellor! Have you gone mad?”

“Have I gone mad? Anyone who would betray me comes to this end!” Na Shun withdrew the sword with a wild laugh. Blood from Vani’s chest spurted high, splashing across Na Shun’s face. His face and head drenched in blood, he stood on the palace wall with short sword in hand, his expression ferocious — like a demon risen from hell.

Vani’s body went limp and crumpled to the ground. Chanda rushed to catch him; Vani looked up at Na Shun with a bitter gaze and murmured: “Chanda — don’t argue with him anymore. Protect this country. Wait for the Emperor to come.”

“I know! I know!” Chanda was weeping.

Vani smiled bitterly, and slowly closed his eyes. Chanda looked at Na Shun one long, last moment, then gathered Vani’s body in his arms and left the palace wall without a word. The surrounding Kshatriya guards all clasped their hands to their chests in salute, seeing off this old man who had given his whole life to the empire.

Na Shun stretched out his arm and held the blood-dripping short sword to Posomi’s throat. Posomi’s expression was serene; he looked at Na Shun with composure.

Na Shun laughed a strange laugh: “Are you afraid? Don’t be — I’m not killing you! Because… because I haven’t yet thought of how to kill you. Every torture in this world would not be enough to vent the hatred in my heart.”

“Then let Your Majesty think on it at leisure!” Posomi said. “If there is nothing else, this old monk will return to the Seven-Layered Prison.”

With that, Posomi turned and departed, the shackles on his wrists clattering. He was gone in an instant. Na Shun still held his arm outstretched with the short sword. He began to smile slowly, and then tears flowed from his face — half laughing, half weeping.

“Lianhua Ye — can I hold out until you return?”

After Vani’s death, the empire was in a ferment of outrage, all opposing Na Shun’s acceptance of the Persians. Na Shun responded with wholesale suppression. Whether ministers, generals, or nobles — he had one word for them: kill. For a time, Kanauj was awash in severed heads and rivers of blood. On the worst day, more than three hundred were beheaded; ten days of killing followed, and the entire empire fell into terrified silence. Na Shun’s inner world was completely warped. The severed heads of high-ranking officials were hung on the towers of the palace walls; the once gold-and-jade-magnificent palace, steeped in its aura of authority, was now festooned with heads outside its walls, almost like a domain of ghosts.

With the voices of opposition within the country suppressed, Na Shun sent a state letter to Yazdegerd III: he would receive the Persians to take refuge in the Five Rivers region, taking them as a vassal state, and grant the city of Taxila as their capital.

Yazdegerd III received the letter and was overjoyed, immediately submitting a memorial acknowledging himself as a vassal state and beginning to lead the Persians across the river. The Persians were dispersed across the Gandhara region; to prevent delays and complications, Yazdegerd III led an army of thirty thousand across the Indus River, took up position at Taxila, established a firm foothold, and then gradually brought the hundreds of thousands of Persians across the river.

Everything unfolded just as Posomi had predicted. The states of the Five Rivers region in western India — Valabhi, Simhapura, Parvata, and the others — were all plunged into distress. Their coalition armies had been marching toward the western borders of the empire; upon hearing the news, they hurriedly retreated, guarding firmly against a Persian attack from behind.

This greatly reduced the empire’s pressure in the west.

Marshal Chanda shifted the bulk of the army to the east and took up a position confronting King Kumara’s coalition. King Kumara and the others were now under enormous pressure and were completely at a disadvantage.

The entire subcontinent was roiling with turbulence, war on the verge of breaking out everywhere — yet held in this strange, eerie silence by the balance of power, waiting only for some unexpected factor to appear and shatter the balance, unleashing scenes of carnage and ruin as the empire collapsed.

At just this moment, Wang Xuance arrived in India at the head of the Great Tang mission.

It was now the late summer of the nineteenth year of Zhenguan. After receiving Xuanzang’s urgent warning, Wang Xuance had traveled with all speed, passing through Tibet and Nepal; in the short span of half a year he had reached India — only to learn upon entering the country that King Harsha was already dead. Wang Xuance beat his chest in despair: he had failed his master’s charge after all. He made inquiries and was left wide-eyed in astonishment — the new Emperor’s title was the King of Tirabhukti, and his name was Aluona Shun.

Was that not Na Shun? Wang Xuance was dumbfounded. What on earth had happened?

Wang Xuance and his deputy envoy Jiang Shiren rode day and night toward Kanauj. On the way they passed through Rajgir. Xuanzang had entrusted him with gifts to deliver to Xuanzang’s own master, Venerable Silabhadra. Wang Xuance went to Nalanda Monastery to pay his respects to Venerable Silabhadra and deliver the gifts — and there unexpectedly encountered King Kumara.

It turned out that King Kumara and his coalition army were arrayed in a standoff with the imperial forces on the south bank of the Ganges, with their headquarters encamped at Rajgir. Though King Kumara had never met Wang Xuance, he placed considerable trust in him because of his connection to Xuanzang, and invited him to Rajgir for a detailed discussion. Wang Xuance then understood that the Harsha Empire was on the brink of civil war.

Wang Xuance inquired further, but King Kumara also did not know how Na Shun had come to be Emperor; he knew only that Posomi had devised the scheme and invited the Persians into the Five Rivers region — and that the King of Tirabhukti had even killed Vani over it. Wang Xuance reflected deeply: in his time, Xuanzang had suspected that Posomi had colluded with the Persians, but had never found proof. Now the evidence was incontrovertible.

“King Harsha was wise and far-sighted — why would he transmit the throne to an outsider?” King Kumara bowed deeply in entreaty. “You and this King of Tirabhukti have both traveled with Venerable Xuanzang — I implore you to find the truth on our behalf. Our sixteen states will be forever grateful for your kindness and the grace of Great Tang!”

Wang Xuance nodded in silence. The two men spoke in detail for another day, settling on certain specifics, and then Wang Xuance led the mission onward to Kanauj, presented the state letter, and requested an audience with the King of Tirabhukti.

When Na Shun heard that Wang Xuance had come, he was greatly pleased. Disregarding the dignity of an emperor, he personally ran outside the palace to receive him. Wang Xuance, following the protocol of a foreign envoy, was just about to prostrate himself when Na Shun took hold of his arm and helped him up, studying his face carefully. Na Shun’s eyes slowly reddened: “Xuance — Lianhua Ye is dead. She has left me again.”

After entering Kanauj, Wang Xuance had already heard of the great massacre in the city. Looking now at the Na Shun he had once known so well, then looking up at the countless heads still hanging from the towers of the palace walls, he felt a cold chill at heart. Though Na Shun’s face was still the face of old, Wang Xuance knew — this was no longer the young Na Shun who had once followed their master and bickered with him along the way.

“May Your Majesty take comfort in your grief,” Wang Xuance said.

Na Shun started slightly, wiped his tears, gazed at Wang Xuance in silence for a moment, and then the authority of a ruler returned to his face: “Come — Wang, please follow Us into the palace. We have already set out a fine banquet to receive you.”

With a single sentence, all the warmth of their former bond was severed in an instant.

After the state banquet for the mission, Na Shun kept Wang Xuance alone in the palace and brought him on a tour of his imperial halls. Wang Xuance walked with him through the gold-and-jade-splendid palace chambers; every eunuch and handmaiden they encountered crept along in timid fear, faces showing alarm — testament to how heavy Na Shun’s killings had been.

Na Shun paid it no mind and asked: “You have come to India this time — did my dharma-brother leave any message for me?”

Wang Xuance froze for a moment. Xuanzang had sent him to save King Harsha; Li Shimin had sent him to seek the medicine of immortality. Now neither of these topics could be raised.

After thinking, Wang Xuance said: “Master misses you greatly and asked me to go to Brahmadita Village to look in on you. When I arrived, I discovered you had actually become Emperor. Truly, the world’s affairs are unpredictable.”

“I would rather still be in Brahmadita Village,” Na Shun said with a desolate sigh. “To stand guard at Lianhua Ye’s side would surpass being emperor of this world. But to wait for Lianhua Ye, I must hold fast to this loathsome palace.”

“Why?” Wang Xuance asked, puzzled.

“Because Lianhua Ye’s next life will still pass through the prison of reincarnation, the ring of destiny — she will still die at the foot of a palace wall,” Na Shun said with a forlorn expression. “So I must be inside this palace wall, waiting for her, protecting her — never letting anyone harm her again.”

Wang Xuance drew a sharp breath. Xuanzang had long said that Na Shun was still immersed in the role he had been made to play — and so it was. He hesitated for a long moment, then asked: “Has Your Majesty ever considered that your life is full of things that don’t add up?”

“Things that don’t add up?” Na Shun was taken aback. “What doesn’t add up?”

“For instance — have you truly reincarnated through the ages? For instance — did you and Lianhua Ye truly fall in love through those reincarnations? For instance — why did King Harsha insist, no matter what, on choosing you to be Emperor? For instance — why, after you have slaughtered so many ministers and nobles, does the military still support you?” Wang Xuance gazed at him steadily, word by measured word. “For instance — your life, your every move and action, has been controlled by someone else?”

Na Shun’s expression turned suddenly ashen. He looked at Wang Xuance with a cold and menacing gaze: “You deny the love between me and Lianhua Ye?”

“I am not denying your love. I only suspect that your lives have been under another’s control,” Wang Xuance said.

“Under whose control?” Na Shun asked.

“Posomi,” Wang Xuance said.

A look of scorn appeared on Na Shun’s face: “He is nothing but my prisoner. How could he control me?”

“Some forms of control are not necessarily over the body — they are over the mind,” Wang Xuance said with a sigh. “When I came from Chang’an, my master told me that Posomi had always been refining a great medicine of immortality for King Harsha — cultivating this great medicine of the human world in people for decades, seeking to grant King Harsha immortality.”

“A medicine of immortality — you believe in that too?” Na Shun gave a cold laugh. “Then let me ask you: King Harsha has been dead this long — where is the medicine of immortality?”

Wang Xuance regarded him with a strange expression: “My master’s judgment is that the medicine of immortality is you and Lianhua Ye!”

Na Shun looked at him mockingly: “And what else has your master judged?”

Wang Xuance said: “My master has further judged that Posomi is in collusion with the Persians. His ultimate purpose has never been clear — but in light of the recent situation, I am afraid his ultimate goal has all along been to invite the Persians to invade!”

“Enough!” Na Shun’s face was livid with fury. He glared through gritted teeth: “Wang Xuance — what exactly did King Kumara pay you?”

“Ah?” Wang Xuance was stunned. “I have no connection to King Kumara.”

“No connection?” Na Shun gave a wintry smile. “Do you think I don’t know? You spent two full days in Rajgir, holding private discussions with King Kumara every day. Tell me — what was your purpose just now in slandering me? I see — you are no different from Vani. Both of you want to find a pretext to depose me!”

“Your Majesty,” Wang Xuance said with genuine urgency, “there is absolutely nothing of the sort!”

“Whether there is or not will be known shortly,” Na Shun said with a roar. “Someone — seize him!”

Na Shun’s expression changed abruptly; his single shout brought Kshatriya guards pouring in from all four sides, seizing Wang Xuance and binding him hand and foot.

“Na Shun!” Wang Xuance bellowed. “I am a Great Tang envoy — you cannot slander me this way!”

“Slander?” Na Shun sneered. “Someone — go to the guest quarters and round up everyone in the mission. While you’re at it, search them for any evidence they may carry!”

In an instant, Kshatriya guards surged out. Every member of the mission from Jiang Shiren on down — thirty-six people in all — not a single one escaped. All were seized and bound. Searchers went through the items the mission had brought; the state letter had already been delivered, but among Wang Xuance’s belongings they found a secret letter in Xuanzang’s own hand, addressed to King Harsha, warning him to beware of Posomi. Na Shun and Lianhua Ye were no more than pieces on his board, and they posed a mortal danger to King Harsha.

“Dharma-brother — to what extent do you suspect me?” Na Shun read the letter and gave a wintry laugh. “And you still claim there is no collusion! Once this letter is produced, am I not cast straightaway as a treasonous usurper? Someone — take Wang Xuance and cast him into the Seven-Layered Prison. At nightfall, execute him in secret!”