Inside Jade Gate Pass, beneath a canopy of blazing stars, everyone was celebrating through the night. Hu people skilled in music and song played various instruments, and the crowd sang and danced, drinking noisily without end. Xuanzang, Li Chan, and Yu Zao stood silently to one side, conspicuously out of place.
On the high platform, the Hu emissaries had long since gone down to join the revelry. Only Kui Wood Wolf sat alone on the lion throne — gazing, perhaps, at this raucous human world before it, or perhaps at the countless stars in the distance. Kui Wood Wolf raised a hand in a gesture, someone blew the horn, and the desolate sound of the horn immediately subdued all the noise. The crowd gradually fell silent. The bonfires crackled and popped.
“Master Xuanzang — why do you not drink some wine?”
Kui Wood Wolf asked.
“This poor monk is a monastic. I do not drink wine.”
Xuanzang replied.
“What a pity. You have come to Jade Gate Pass and I have not been able to offer you even a cup.”
Kui Wood Wolf said. “All matters are now settled. The Master may depart in peace. Once I have refined out the Heavenly Robe, I will naturally speak a word to the Lord of Mount Tai who governs the wheel of rebirth and have you reincarnated as a human being to cultivate once more from the beginning.”
Yu Zao drew her broadsword with a ringing scrape. “Lv… my dear Lv — I absolutely will not allow you to kill the Master!”
Kui Wood Wolf glanced at her and said with indifference, “What is killing? It is only a delay of twenty years in his cultivation. Your human lives are far too brief — a mere sixty or seventy years, no more than sixty or seventy days in heaven. In your view, what you call killing comes from the fact that death for humans is eternal separation. But for a celestial being, whatever form that spirit takes in the next life, I can still see it. Where is the killing?”
Yu Zao stood blankly, unable to find any argument to counter him.
“Master Xuanzang — the cultivation of the Great Way is not the work of a single lifetime. Perhaps even ten or a hundred lifetimes will not suffice for completion. I sever your cultivation in this life, delaying you by no more than twenty years.”
Kui Wood Wolf said. “Tonight you shall go. Come again in your next life.”
Kui Wood Wolf ordered people to stack firewood around a large greenish stone — hard-wooded desert poplar and red willow — and was about to have Xuanzang bound to the stone. Li Chan drew his broadsword. Yu Zao raised her hard bow. Both stood in front of Xuanzang. The fifteen Star Generals closed in with blank expressions, each bearing a great Mo Dao blade. Both sides were on the verge of open conflict.
Kui Wood Wolf stood on the high platform and lightly blew out a breath. In the night air, a thin thread of cold, eerie fire flickered into existence. The hard bow in Yu Zao’s hands immediately blazed violently. Yu Zao cried out and beat at it on the ground, but could not smother the fire — in an instant the hard bow was reduced to powder.
“This is Three Samadhi Fire. There is nothing it cannot burn. Master Xuanzang will feel no pain.”
Kui Wood Wolf said calmly. “You cannot protect him. I need only shoot the fire onto him and he will be ash in an instant. You cannot block it.”
Yu Zao and Li Chan exchanged a look. Both felt something close to despair.
Yu Zao cried out, “My dear Lv — you cannot kill the Master! He is your dearest friend! Have you forgotten the friendship you two shared in Chang’an?”
Kui Wood Wolf gave a contemptuous laugh. “How many times must I say it before you will believe: Lv Sheng is dead. What stands before you is nothing but his empty shell. You saw how the Star Generals descended just now — do you still think it is possible to summon back the original person?”
Yu Zao shook all over. “Does that mean… it was you who killed my dear Lv?”
“Killed… this lord cannot quite understand that word…”
Kui Wood Wolf shook its head.
“I will kill you—”
Yu Zao screamed in fury and charged toward the platform, but the Star Generals blocked her and she could not advance an inch.
“Twelfth Young Miss!”
Xuanzang called out quickly to restrain her, then walked over and said quietly, “Do not act rashly. Have you forgotten what this poor monk said? Lv Sheng may not be alive — but he may not be dead either. Is it not to investigate the truth that we came? Stay calm for now, and do not be impulsive no matter what happens.”
“But Master — you are about to be burned to death!”
Li Chan said urgently.
“If this poor monk is truly burned to death, then Lv Sheng is dead. If I am not burned to death, then Lv Sheng is still alive. I can only stake everything on this gamble.”
Xuanzang said.
“Master — could you say it more clearly? I do not quite understand.”
Yu Zao looked completely bewildered.
“If you don’t understand, just watch.”
Xuanzang finished speaking and walked straight over to the large greenish stone. “Come, then. Bind this poor monk — and make it tight.”
Two Star Generals went forward and locked Xuanzang to a wooden post beside the stone with iron chains. Yu Zao moved to intervene, but Li Chan grabbed her back and shook his head vigorously, and the two could only watch helplessly as the firewood was stacked all around Xuanzang.
On the high platform, Kui Wood Wolf extended a single finger. From the fingertip there grew a tiny flame of the palest, most ethereal blue. With a flick, the nearly invisible flame traced a thin line through the air toward Xuanzang. This time the thread moved at no great speed — almost slowly — so that everyone could actually see the flame’s trajectory as it traveled through the air. Wherever the flame passed, the air seemed to be scorched into void, shimmering and trembling. Xuanzang watched it approach with wide-open eyes filled with the hunger to understand — at times his brow knitted in thought, at times his face softened into a smile of dawning comprehension. Li Chan stood to the side, shaking his head in disbelief.
The thread crept closer and closer to Xuanzang. Just at that moment, a woman of devastating beauty suddenly rushed out from within the barrier-fort, pulling up the hem of her long dress as she sprinted, her face full of panic. When the residents of Jade Gate Pass caught sight of her, they all bent in a bow, and some even fell to their knees.
“My dear lord, you must not!”
The woman ran to stand before Xuanzang, spreading both arms wide to block the line of fire.
Kui Wood Wolf was greatly alarmed and leapt from the lion throne in a single bound. In the air it left a trail of afterimages, as though wolf and human flickered and interchanged in that split second — arriving before the woman at the speed of lightning and thunder, one hand snatching the fire thread out of the air. The palm immediately gave off a sizzling sound, and the smell of charred skin and flesh rose. Then the fire thread was extinguished.
“You… my lady, why did you come out?”
Kui Wood Wolf was indignant. “Just now the danger was truly too great!”
Whether it was Xuanzang, Yu Zao, or Li Chan — all three gaped open-mouthed in astonishment. My lady? Kui Wood Wolf actually had a wife?
The woman reached out to take Kui Wood Wolf’s palm; Kui Wood Wolf flinched away as though from an electric shock. The woman’s expression dimmed for a moment, then she said gently, “Next time I will not do this. Does it hurt?”
“It does not.”
Kui Wood Wolf, soothed by her tenderness, quickly lost its anger. “But you must never again do something so dangerous — even I sometimes cannot fully control Three Samadhi Fire.”
“Very well.”
The woman nodded softly. “My dear lord — I want to ask you not to kill this monk. But the situation was urgent and I had no time to explain in detail, so in my desperation I threw caution to the wind. Next time I will be more careful.”
“Not kill him? Why?”
Kui Wood Wolf’s brows knitted together.
“You know I am a Buddhist. I was resting in the inner chambers just now and fell asleep without realizing it. In my dream, a golden-armored divine figure suddenly appeared.”
The woman said.
Kui Wood Wolf was surprised. “A golden-armored god? Which golden-armored god dared trespass into my domain and enter your dream? What did he say to you?”
The woman said, “My dear lord, do not be angry — the golden-armored god meant no ill. He said that I have accumulated great merit through building pagodas and making offerings, but my lord husband is about to kill a monk, which would incur the five grave transgressions. Should this transgression be committed, the two of us as husband and wife will inevitably face a great calamity in the future and cannot attain a good ending. At this I awoke with a start and rushed here, only to find you truly about to put the monk to death.”
Kui Wood Wolf’s eyes blazed with fierce anger as it scanned the sky carefully, then gave a cold laugh. “Which minor deity in heaven has grown bold enough to meddle in my household affairs! I will track that one down in due time and see to it there is no pardon! My lady, have no fear — kill this monk I shall. As for this so-called great calamity — I want to see which deity in heaven dares to put me to a calamity!”
“What you say is true, but my lord is a celestial deity, while I am only a mortal. The inauspicious calamity that cannot reach you may fall instead upon me.”
The woman sighed. “Moreover, I am a Buddhist — to watch you kill a monk without feeling anything, I fear my heart would carry a burden of guilt that can never be erased.”
Kui Wood Wolf hesitated. “But if I do not kill him, the Heavenly Robe cannot be refined, and your body will never—”
“Even if the Heavenly Robe is refined and the curse on my body broken, my heart would still be cursed — and that curse is there for all eternity, impossible to erase.”
The woman was gentle in manner but entirely unyielding in her words.
Kui Wood Wolf looked with annoyance from the woman to Xuanzang, then back. “The night wind is strong. You go back inside first. Someone — take Xuanzang into my dwelling as well.”
The Star Generals went over, cleared the firewood, and unbound Xuanzang.
Kui Wood Wolf accompanied the woman back to the barrier-fort. Two Star Generals pushed and prodded Xuanzang along as well.
“Master — what should we do?”
Li Chan called out.
“Wait.”
Xuanzang did not look back.
“You… what did you say?”
In Changle Monastery in Dunhuang, Li Yan leapt to his feet in shock, nearly tumbling off his rope chair. Candlelight fell on Li Yan’s face, his expression filled with horror as he stared at Wang Junke. “This Prince… when did this Prince ever wish to rebel? You… you are slandering me!”
Wang Junke, however, was entirely composed. He gave a faint smile. “Your Highness has no desire to rebel — at the moment.”
“No desire to rebel at the moment?”
Li Yan erupted in fury. “Are you saying this Prince will desire to rebel in the future?”
“Your Highness — His Majesty has already dispatched Protocol Officer Cui Dunli, bearing an imperial decree, to Guazhou. Cui Dunli has already passed through Liangzhou.”
Wang Junke said.
Li Yan froze on the spot, and an inexplicable chill spread across his body.
Cui Dunli was of course known to Li Yan — a direct descendant of the Boling Cui lineage, holding the rank of Protocol Officer of the sixth grade upper. In charge of the Office of Four Directions, he oversaw affairs relating to foreign peoples and missions, charged with transmitting imperial decrees, delivering commendations, and undertaking diplomatic missions.
“How do you know His Majesty sent Cui Dunli to summon me to court?”
Li Yan murmured.
Wang Junke smiled. “Before Your Highness proposed the betrothal, I had already expressed interest in arranging a marriage alliance through correspondence with my family. I made it a requirement that each letter contain news of the imperial court — especially matters relating to Hexi. I had a number of former comrades-in-arms now serving in the Ministry of War, and so I arranged through the Bureau of Carriages to make use of the imperial postal relay system.”
Using the imperial relay system for private correspondence was officially prohibited, of course. But with Dunhuang three thousand li from Chang’an, it was extremely inconvenient for officials posted so far from home to communicate with their families — so for someone like Wang Junke, a regional prefect, the court largely turned a blind eye.
“His Majesty summoning me to court is a perfectly routine matter — this Prince has been in Guazhou for three years, after all.”
Li Yan said.
“Sending Cui Dunli to summon you is normal, and yet not entirely normal,”
Wang Junke said. “A Protocol Officer’s duty is to convey imperial will and deliver commendations — having Cui Dunli transmit the summons reflects His Majesty’s regard for you. But what is unusual is that Cui Dunli is in charge of the Office of Four Directions, with the duty of pacifying foreign peoples. Guazhou is not a foreign territory — so what is His Majesty’s deeper intention in sending him here?”
“In your view — what is His Majesty’s deeper intention?”
Li Yan asked coldly.
“None other: since the mission involves pacifying foreign peoples, he must fear that they will grow unruly,”
Wang Junke said with a meaningful smile. “And why would His Majesty fear that foreign peoples would grow unruly?”
“Perhaps… perhaps…”
Li Yan was rattled. “Perhaps His Majesty is planning a campaign against the Eastern Turks and has sent Cui Dunli to make a tour of inspection in Guazhou.”
“Let me add one more piece of news,”
Wang Junke fixed his gaze on Li Yan and said word by word: “After Cui Dunli departed Liangzhou, Li Daoliang immediately mobilized five thousand troops to march toward Ganzhou!”
Li Yan frowned. “Ganzhou falls under the jurisdiction of the Liangzhou Metropolitan Command. Li Daoliang dispatching troops to Ganzhou has nothing to do with me—”
Li Yan suddenly widened his eyes. “You are saying… you are saying…”
Li Yan’s entire body trembled, and the last sentence would not leave his throat — too terrifying to speak aloud.
“Exactly!”
Wang Junke said gravely. “When I first spoke with Your Highness at the prefectural city relay station, I mentioned the hidden connection between Ganzhou Prefect Zhang Bi and Li Daoliang — the two were life-and-death brothers on the Wagang Stronghold. After His Majesty stationed Li Daoliang at Liangzhou, he placed his most trusted man Zhang Bi at Ganzhou — the target could not be more obvious. Once Cui Dunli arrives at Guazhou and completes the summons, if everything goes smoothly it will naturally be for the best. But if something goes wrong, Zhang Bi’s Ganzhou army can immediately drive straight toward Suzhou. And Suzhou Prefect Niu Jinda is also a former Wagang man with an old connection to Zhang Bi — if Niu Jinda throws in with Zhang Bi, the two forces combined, fifteen thousand troops strong, could reach the walls of Guazhou in an instant!”
“I… I…”
Li Yan’s hands and feet went cold with shock. “How could it have come to this! How could it have come to this! I have never harbored the slightest thought of betraying His Majesty — Heaven itself bears witness!”
“Your Highness may well have never harbored any thought of betraying His Majesty. But His Majesty has no wish to leave the safety of the entire Hexi region dependent on your single thought of loyalty.”
Wang Junke said coldly. “Your Highness was close to Pei Ji, and two months ago Pei Ji was stripped of his property and banished. Before launching the campaign against the Eastern Turks, he must naturally first neutralize you and secure Hexi. If you were unwilling to submit like Prince of Changle Li Youliang and wait passively, but instead tried to stake everything on a final desperate gamble — with His Majesty’s armies fully engaged on the northern front against the Eastern Turks — if you acted here, would not the entire Hexi region be engulfed in chaos?”
Li Yan was struck as though by lightning, his face caught somewhere between laughter and tears. He slumped back on the rope chair. Wang Junke poured a cup of grape wine and held it out to him. Li Yan accepted it with a wooden expression, his arm trembling so badly he could not bring it to his lips.
“His Majesty… summoning me to court… what would he do with me?”
Li Yan murmured, as though speaking to himself.
“You may consult the precedent of Prince of Changle.”
Wang Junke said. “In the past, someone reported that the Prince of Changle and Military Governor of Liangzhou, Li Youliang, was secretly cultivating warriors, maintaining contacts beyond the border, and possibly plotting rebellion. His Majesty appointed Yuwen Shiji to take over as Military Governor of Liangzhou and investigate. At the time, Li Youliang intended to go to Chang’an to plead his innocence — but before he could do so, Yuwen Shiji had already arrived in Liangzhou. So Li Youliang attempted to flee north to the Turks, but Yuwen Shiji intercepted him. His Majesty then sent Vice Censor-in-Chief Sun Fujia to conduct the official interrogation, after which Li Youliang was granted death.”
Li Yan’s forehead dripped with cold sweat, and he stared blankly into space.
“One puzzling point in that case I have never been able to resolve: since Li Youliang initially intended to go to Chang’an to protest his innocence, why, when Yuwen Shiji arrived, did he immediately attempt to flee to the Turks? Reflecting on it now, it was most likely because he had already understood that Yuwen Shiji came bearing the intent to kill him!”
Wang Junke said with a cold laugh. “The charge of secretly cultivating warriors and maintaining foreign contacts can be substantiated with evidence against any frontier general. If His Majesty wished you to live, you might follow Cui Dunli back to Chang’an and perhaps survive as a commoner. If His Majesty wished you dead, you need only step out through the north gate of Guazhou City and travel ten-some li — that counts as fleeing to the Turks. So what His Majesty would do with you, this subordinate truly cannot say. However, since His Majesty has already deployed five thousand troops to Ganzhou, the attention he has given you would seem to far exceed that given to Li Youliang.”
Li Yan trembled and at last managed to bring the cup to his lips. The sweet grape wine was bitter and harsh at this moment. “I knew His Majesty would move to neutralize me — I did not expect it would come so quickly. I have turned it over in my mind countless times: when this day arrived, what choice should I make. Now that the moment is here, I find I have no choice to make at all.”
“How could you have no choice?”
Wang Junke asked.
“What choice do I have?”
Li Yan laughed bitterly. “In the first year of Zhenguan when I came to take up my post in Guazhou, His Majesty dispatched Li Daoliang to Liangzhou and you to Western Shazhou — just as you said: former Wagang men have surrounded me on all sides. The trap was clearly laid long ago, only waiting for the moment to spring. What choice do I have? The only choice left to me is to sit at home and wait for the emissary to come to my door — either a white silken cord to hang myself with, or iron chains to take me in shackles.”
“This subordinate came to see Your Highness tonight precisely to give Your Highness one more choice.”
Wang Junke watched Li Yan steadily and said slowly.
Li Yan stared at him blankly for a moment. “How can you give this Prince a choice?”
“Rebellion!”
Wang Junke said, softly.
The word was barely a whisper, yet in Li Yan’s ears it was as a thunderbolt. Every hair on his body stood on end and the color drained from his face.
“Outrageous!”
Li Yan flew into a rage. He rushed to the weapons rack and snatched out a blade, pressing it to Wang Junke’s throat. “To carry such thoughts in your heart — you truly deserve death!”
Wang Junke tilted his face up to meet the edge of the blade and slowly rose. Li Yan stumbled back in alarm.
“This subordinate came to Changle Monastery tonight rather than summoning Your Highness to the prefectural offices precisely so that Your Highness could make this choice on your own terms.”
Wang Junke said. “Your Highness may seize me and hand me to His Majesty — that might spare your life.”
“You think I dare not seize you?”
Li Yan ground out from between clenched teeth.
“Your Highness wishes to seize me — I submit without resistance. Your Highness could cut me down here on the spot as well: one light thrust of that precious blade and it would go through my throat.”
Wang Junke said calmly. “The reason I come to speak these words without regard for my life is that your family and mine are now united by marriage. The betrothal procedures between Yu Zao and the Heir Apparent are complete — the ceremonial gifts and money have been delivered to my residence. Only the selection of the auspicious date and the formal wedding remain. In truth, our two families are already a married alliance.”
Li Yan was taken aback, and he sagged, withdrawing the blade. “Is it because of me that you are implicated? But…”
Li Yan’s face wore a look of bewilderment. “You already knew of my situation before the betrothal. Why were you willing to make this alliance with me?”
Wang Junke said with a note of resignation: “Since things have come to this, I will not hide it from Your Highness. You know me — my deepest ambition has always been to establish the Wang clan’s aristocratic prestige and rise to the standing of a great noble family. To form a marriage alliance with Your Highness was naturally a great honor for my Wang clan. At the time there was also some private calculation on my part: I thought that even if His Majesty intended to set you aside, the approach would be relatively gentle. The reason you are not tolerated by His Majesty is only that you were close to Prince Jiancheng — even if you were set aside, the princely title would still pass to your Heir Apparent.”
Li Yan smiled bitterly. “You thought as much, and at the time I more or less guessed as much myself. That I could expect even that was already a gift from heaven.”
“Indeed!”
Wang Junke sighed. “I also did not anticipate that His Majesty’s wariness of you ran this deep — that he would actually mobilize the Liangzhou army to press down on the border. This being so, the best even you yourself could hope for would be to become a commoner. The title of Prince of Linjiang will most likely be revoked. Alas — to form a marriage alliance with someone who is condemned: my career in this life, Wang Junke’s career in service to the Emperor, is finished.”
Li Yan nodded in silence, then said with genuine sincerity: “Junke — you know that this Prince has always greatly admired you. You are one of Great Tang’s formidable generals — rising from Wagang Stronghold to become a prefect was no small achievement. You must not lose the opportunity to make your mark on the battlefield because of me. Dissolve this marriage!”
Wang Junke’s expression was moved. He cupped his hands in a deep bow and said, “My thanks to Your Highness. But… it is too late now. Not only throughout the three prefectures of Gua, Sha, and Su, but even in Chang’an itself, word of our marriage alliance has spread. If at the moment of your downfall I were to dissolve the marriage, how would the censuring voices of the entire court regard me? My reputation has never been good — everyone says I am treacherous and ruthless in battle, resorting to any means to win. But that is military tactics: on the battlefield one does whatever it takes to achieve victory. But as a man — I have never broken my word. Since fate has decreed this, I will bear it together with Your Highness.”
Li Yan closed his eyes and worked hard to hold back tears. “Junke — since you treat me thus, how can I not repay you? This Prince reflects that this life of mine still carries some weight. Rather than deliver it to Cui Dunli, better to give it to you to make a meritorious contribution. Seize me and hand me over to Cui Dunli, saying you detected signs of my rebellion and acted in service to righteousness — the court will surely reward you. You will be able to leave this western desert early and return to Chang’an.”
Wang Junke was stunned on the spot. He stared at Li Yan for a long moment, his eyes reddening. He bowed all the way to the ground. “Your Highness’s magnanimity of heart makes this subordinate feel utterly… utterly ashamed!”
“This Prince means it sincerely.”
Li Yan said with earnest gravity. “Western Shazhou is your territory — this Prince will not go anywhere. I will remain here and wait for Cui Dunli. When he arrives outside the city, send men to take me.”
“Your Highness’s generosity… I truly…”
Wang Junke seemed to lose himself for a moment, as though wrestling with his thoughts. Then after a brief pause he shook his head with resolve. “I cannot bring myself to do such a thing. Your Highness — tonight I came to urge rebellion, and there was no intent to test you. In truth, in the days before this I had already made plans on Your Highness’s behalf. Your Highness might as well hear my detailed account first and then make your decision.”
Li Yan sighed. “Very well. Speak.”
“Your Highness also knows that His Majesty, having heard General Zhang Gong-jin of Daizhou submit his memorial, has been planning the campaign to destroy the Eastern Turks. If I am not mistaken, a month from now — when autumn comes — will be the best time to launch. “
Wang Junke’s eyes were bright and focused. “Destroying the Eastern Turks is a national war, vast in scale. I have carefully deduced it: this campaign will require at minimum three routes. One route will advance from the direction of Dingyuan to attack Yunzhong; one route will advance from Daizhou to strike the Eastern Turks’ heartland; and a third route will most likely set out from Lingzhou to cut off the Eastern Turks’ retreat to the west. Liangzhou is the western gateway to Lingzhou — once Lingzhou deploys troops, Liangzhou must certainly garrison heavy forces to guard the western flank of that route.”
As soon as the topic turned to military affairs, Wang Junke spoke with flowing ease, drawing shapes in the air with his hands as though a full map of the realm lay before his eyes, banners moving, cavalry charges unfolding. Li Yan was no stranger to military matters — he narrowed his eyes slightly, and before him appeared the offensive routes Wang Junke had sketched out. Even the scale of forces and the commanding generals were more or less present in his mind.
“If Your Highness rises at this time, let us examine the forces at hand.”
Wang Junke said. “Western Shazhou has fifteen hundred deployable garrison troops. Once the Ministry of War authorization arrives, I can conscript five thousand provincial militia troops — that comes to six thousand five hundred—”
Li Yan was startled. “Junke — the real purpose behind conscripting provincial militia troops is not to exterminate Kui Wood Wolf, but to aid me in rebellion?”
“Of course.”
Wang Junke smiled. “Kui Wood Wolf is the enemy of the noble clans — what concern is that of mine? Besides, he has only around three hundred cavalrymen. If I truly intended to break him, one thousand garrison troops would more than suffice. In the memorial to His Majesty, I said I needed to guard against the Eastern Turks and Tuyuhun — that was simply a pretext to persuade the Emperor. The true purpose was to plan on Your Highness’s behalf!”
Li Yan could not help but shake his head in a mixture of bitter laughter and alarm at Wang Junke’s decisiveness and foresight. Before Li Yan had even perceived the danger, Wang Junke had already predicted today’s predicament. Before Li Yan had decided whether to wait passively or travel to the capital to plead his case, Wang Junke had already concluded that rebellion was the only path — and had already been quietly preparing the necessary forces. Such vision, such resolve, such planning — it was truly enough to send a chill through anyone’s bones.
Perhaps in such extraordinary times, only a person of this kind could salvage a desperate situation. Li Yan reflected quietly.
Wang Junke continued: “Guazhou has two thousand five hundred deployable garrison troops. Prefect Dugu Da is Your Highness’s man — once you raise the banner, forge a Ministry of War authorization to conscript provincial militia troops, and that adds another six thousand. The combined force of our two prefectures would then be twelve thousand five hundred.”
“Dugu Da will naturally follow my command — but even so, twelve-thousand-some men are not enough to hold the Gua-Sha region!”
Li Yan said with distress. “Liangzhou is a major military stronghold with a garrison of fifty thousand. We would simply be crushed.”
“Since I am planning on Your Highness’s behalf, I could hardly have something so crude in mind,”
Wang Junke smiled. “Does Your Highness forget — Niu Jinda at Suzhou has five thousand troops.”
“But Niu Jinda will never rebel alongside this Prince.”
Li Yan smiled wryly.
Wang Junke shook his head. “Niu Jinda himself will certainly not rebel. But his troops can be put to use. Within the next two days, our two families will finalize the date for the formal wedding, and invite the Heir Apparent to come to Dunhuang to be received, then proceed to Guazhou for the ceremony. Niu Jinda, as your subordinate, would have to attend the wedding banquet whatever the circumstance. At that point, secretly seize him, take his fish-tally, and then lead the army to take over Suzhou.”
Li Yan immediately nodded. “So long as Niu Jinda and the fish-tally are seized, taking over Suzhou is of course no problem.”
“Correct. That gives us eighteen thousand troops in hand. We immediately strike east, attack Ganzhou, and rout Zhang Bi!”
Wang Junke said. “By that point, Cui Dunli will certainly have been seized. To avoid assaulting a fortified city, we can use Cui Dunli and you under the name of an escort convoy requiring heavy protection on the journey to the capital—”
“Wait, wait…”
Li Yan suddenly raised a concern. “Junke — from a military standpoint, there is nothing wrong with what you say. Even if Li Daoliang reinforced Zhang Bi with five thousand more troops, with eighteen thousand in hand we can naturally break Ganzhou City. But… why would the soldiers follow this Prince into rebellion and attack Ganzhou?”
“The soldiers will of course not willingly follow us into rebellion!”
Wang Junke said in astonishment. Seeing that Li Yan was staring at him blankly — genuinely not understanding — he had no choice but to explain patiently. “To get the soldiers to follow us into open rebellion is simply out of the question. So when we raise our banner, it cannot be under the name of rebellion — it must be under the banner of a court-ordered mobilization to attack the Turks. Once we have consolidated the forces of Gua, Sha, and Su and arrived at the walls of Ganzhou, we publicly declare that Zhang Bi is collaborating with the Turks, and march in to suppress the rebellion. Would that not do?”
“And then?”
Li Yan asked blankly — he genuinely did not follow. “After taking Ganzhou, won’t the soldiers know that they themselves are the real rebels?”
Wang Junke laughed aloud. “Naturally that will be so. But after one deadly all-out engagement, once the soldiers have Tang warriors’ blood on their hands — who can turn back? After taking Ganzhou, I only need to lift military discipline. These soldiers, having just killed, will be like demons released from a flood gate — they will loot Ganzhou, slaughter and seize. Once three days pass without the sword being sheathed, whose hands will not be stained with the blood of ordinary people? After that — who would dare harbor second thoughts? And Hexi has for centuries tended toward independence from Central Plains governance, always with a tradition of separatism—”
“Wait, wait…”
Li Yan stared at Wang Junke with wide, unbelieving eyes, his body trembling. “You… you intend to massacre the city?”
The barrier-fort within Jade Gate Pass served as Kui Wood Wolf’s dwelling. It was not large inside — roughly one mu in area. There were two gates, on the north and west sides, both narrow and low, their tops forming a triangular arch. The walls, more than three chi thick, formed a deep and shadowy passage. Xuanzang followed Kui Wood Wolf and the woman through the barrier-fort. Built against the south wall was a main structure fully two zhang and more in height, imposing in form, with a horse ramp in the southeast corner that could be used to ascend to the roof. The flat, solid rooftop had crenellated battlements and was in effect a small combat platform, with a ramp leading up to the city wall from the middle.
In the northwest corner of the enclosure stood another structure, somewhat smaller — the quarters of the maidservants who served the woman. A wide angled passage connected the two structures and ran between the two gates.
Xuanzang followed Kui Wood Wolf and the woman into this dwelling. The ceiling stood two zhang high, and the interior was unusually spacious. The space was divided by hanging curtains and beaded screens. At the center was a raised platform of seven steps, each step inlaid with lotus carvings in carved jade. On the platform stood a great lion throne, exquisitely carved, its railings and legs covered in intricate patterns, inlaid with gold, fine jade, and luminous pearls, shimmering in the candlelight. Below the lion throne, a snow-white wool carpet ran from the platform down the steps all the way to the floor.
On the floor, a dozen or so rush-woven meditation cushions were arranged. Xuanzang sat down on one without a word, crossing his legs in meditation posture.
Kui Wood Wolf led the woman up the platform. On both sides of the steps stood four maidservants. Kui Wood Wolf ordered them to support the woman, and two maidservants, trembling, reached out their hands — then hesitated. Kui Wood Wolf gave them a cold look. The maidservants steeled themselves and reached out to take the woman by the arm, and immediately their faces creased in pain, their bodies shaking, sweat breaking out on their foreheads.
“There is no need.”
The woman pulled free of the maidservants and seated herself on the lion throne unassisted.
Kui Wood Wolf said gently, “How is your body feeling now?”
“In the days you were away, the heart-clenching pain came once again — labored breathing, a stifling pressure in my chest,”
the woman said. “Several times I could not draw breath at all.”
Kui Wood Wolf hesitated a moment, then said, “My lady, let me treat you once more with my inner elixir. But you must be careful — do not let your thumb touch it. If your thumb strikes it, my true form will be revealed.”
“You must not, my dear lord — it will hurt you!”
The woman refused.
Kui Wood Wolf did not reply, but sat in crossed-leg meditation on the lion throne, opened its mouth, and tilted its head back. A lustrous, flickering object was expelled from its mouth. Xuanzang watched carefully: the inner elixir was about the size of a hen’s egg, expelled more than a chi outward, suspended in midair. Kui Wood Wolf seized it with one hand.
Xuanzang had heard of the secret art of cultivating the inner elixir in the Daoist tradition, but was seeing it demonstrated for the first time. The Daoist tradition of elixir-making was divided into outer elixir and inner elixir. Early Daoist practitioners focused primarily on the outer elixir — using crucibles and furnaces to smelt metals and minerals, compounding medicinal preparations, and refining immortality elixirs.
Wei Boyang of the Eastern Han dynasty’s The Cantong Qi and Ge Hong of the Eastern Jin dynasty’s The Master Who Embraces Simplicity marked the supreme achievement of outer elixir craft.
The inner elixir was, comparatively, even more mysterious. It took the human body itself as the crucible and furnace, the essential energies of essence, breath, and spirit as the medicinal ingredients, and employed the fire of the celestial cycle to smelt them. Step by step it refined essence into breath, breath into spirit, and spirit into harmony with the Way, until finally a golden elixir condensed within the body, granting immortality and the ability to ascend to heaven. The cultivation of the inner elixir was deeply arcane, requiring the practitioner to feed upon rosy mists and absorb the vital energies of the five directions and the light of the seven luminaries — altogether a way of exceeding mystery, the gateway to all wonders.
And so from the Qin and Han dynasties onward, Daoist practitioners had focused mainly on the outer elixir. Even at this time, the inner elixir art was said to be rarely transmitted.
But then again, reflecting on it, Kui Wood Wolf was a true celestial deity who had descended from heaven. That it possessed an inner elixir was hardly surprising. Yet according to Daoist tradition, even a true celestial deity would need untold years of seated cultivation, years of trial and hardship, and the completion of multiple alchemical cycles before producing an inner elixir of this kind. It was truly a matter of life and death for a heavenly immortal.
Xuanzang watched without blinking. He saw Kui Wood Wolf draw the inner elixir toward itself, then slowly press it against the woman’s forehead. The moment its palm touched the forehead, Kui Wood Wolf’s face instantly contorted in pain — its complexion twisting and writhing, as though enduring some immense suffering — until the palm was removed and the creature finally relaxed. The inner elixir had gone entirely into the forehead.
Then, all at once, Xuanzang leapt to his feet with a start and stared at Kui Wood Wolf’s palm. It was covered with pinpoint-sized red dots, blood oozing from countless needle-prick wounds — identical in every way to the condition of his own skin when he had touched the Heavenly Robe on his left arm.
Kui Wood Wolf held back the pain, pressed its palm again to the woman’s left ear. The pain on its face grew even more severe, and it let out a hiss. Slowly the palm moved away, and the inner elixir emerged from the left ear. Kui Wood Wolf then sent the inner elixir in through the right ear, and this time drew it out through the woman’s mouth.
In this way, the inner elixir circulated without ceasing through the woman’s body and out again, while Kui Wood Wolf had already broken out in a heavy sweat. It seemed that any contact with the woman’s skin plunged Kui Wood Wolf into extreme agony. This was a pain Xuanzang understood from his own experience — the needle-prick sensation bored down to the marrow, truly beyond what human endurance could bear. Yet Kui Wood Wolf forced the inner elixir through an entire heavenly circuit of the woman’s body before finally drawing it back into its own mouth with a single inhalation, then sank back onto the lion throne, drenched in sweat.
Looking at the woman — the energy and spirit of her entire person had improved markedly. Color returned to her complexion; her manner was bright and alert.
“My dear lord — are you all right?”
The woman asked in alarm. Her hand nearly reached out to touch Kui Wood Wolf’s shoulder, then stopped short — she did not dare make contact.
“I am well. I have expended too much. I need to rest a moment.”
Kui Wood Wolf looked at the woman with gentle tenderness, then closed its eyes — sinking, it seemed, into deep meditation.
The woman let out a long sigh and, not wishing to disturb the creature, descended the platform in graceful, measured steps and came to stand before Xuanzang. “Master!”
“Do you have half of a Heavenly Robe about you?”
Xuanzang asked.
The woman nodded with a look of quiet sorrow. “Indeed. I have been wearing it for three years now. The fact that no one’s body can touch mine is one thing — but at intervals, a clenching pain seizes my heart and breathing fails, as though I have died and come back. Again and again.”
“Why do I not suffer these symptoms?”
Xuanzang asked, puzzled.
“That I do not know. Apart from both of us being people that others cannot touch, perhaps the other effects of the Heavenly Robe also vary from person to person.”
The woman said. “I have already heard about it — the other half of the Heavenly Robe is on the Master’s person. My dear lord set out to seize the Heavenly Robe in order to heal me — and in doing so, brought you here.”
Xuanzang pondered this for a moment, then accepted the explanation.
Xuanzang asked, “May I ask the lady your name?”
“Does the Master truly not know who I am?”
The woman gazed at him with a look of desolate sadness.
Xuanzang’s thoughts turned quickly, and he was startled. “The young mistress of the Zhai family — Zhai Wen! Are you truly Zhai Wen?”
“I am…”
Zhai Wen sighed quietly. “It has been a long time since anyone called me by that name.”
Though Xuanzang had dimly sensed that Zhai Wen might still be alive, he had not imagined that on the very first night at Jade Gate Pass he would see her with his own eyes. Thinking of Lv Sheng — or rather, of Kui Wood Wolf — and the entangled grievances between him and the Zhai and Linghu clans, of Linghu Zhan imprisoning himself in suffering and shame, of the three years of bloody fighting between the Eight Great Clans and Kui Wood Wolf — all of this had sprung from the single person standing before him. He could not suppress a sigh of bitter sorrow.
“My dear lord’s spirit has been greatly depleted. He needs to rest.”
Zhai Wen said. “Would the Master be willing to walk with me? Do not worry about your disciples and that young woman — Chief Administrator Zhao has already arranged for them to rest.”
Xuanzang nodded in silence. Zhai Wen pushed open the door and walked out. Xuanzang followed. The two passed through the western gate out of the barrier-fort. Two Star Generals were on guard at the gate and merely gave a small bow when they saw Zhai Wen — they did not stop them.
The two walked through Jade Gate Pass. It was the first watch of the night, yet a good number of residents were still gathered around bonfires in wild celebration, drinking freely and noisily. Clusters of bonfires burned everywhere. Some who had drunk too much pounded on drum-frames, tapping out an old melody, ancient and mournful.
Zhai Wen led Xuanzang in an unhurried walk. She gazed fixedly at the bonfires and stars ahead, silent without a word.
Xuanzang could not help asking: “Miss Zhai — after you were abducted, how did you come to be the wife of Kui Wood Wolf?”
Zhai Wen said quietly, “I am a woman — what could I do when taken by another? Did I have any say in the matter?”
Xuanzang was left without answer.
“Master — coming from Dunhuang, did you see my father and my elder brother?”
Zhai Wen asked. “Are they well?”
“Your honored father is quite well. Your elder brother is now Garrison Commander of Ziting, and is also well.”
Xuanzang hesitated a moment. “But as for Linghu Zhan—”
“Linghu Zhan?”
Zhai Wen thought for a moment, as though only gradually recalling who this person was, and sighed softly. “This name — had the Master not mentioned it, I would have nearly forgotten it. Only three years, and yet it feels as though several lifetimes have passed. How is that Linghu gentleman?”
“He is still seeking vengeance for you. Just recently he fought Kui Wood Wolf hand to hand and suffered some injuries.”
Xuanzang said. “He believed you were dead. When I left, he asked me to make sure — he must find your grave, so that you can be buried in the ancestral cemetery.”
“Linghu gentleman is a very fine person. This marriage of ours has truly been a burden to him.”
Zhai Wen was touched with a faint sadness. “When you leave, please tell him that my remains are nowhere to be found — have him make a memorial burial for me with my garments and effects.”
Xuanzang was taken aback. “You do not wish to go back? It appears that Kui Wood Wolf cherishes you greatly, and yet…”
“In my current state — can I still go back?”
Zhai Wen smiled bitterly. “The Zhai clan is a noble family of Dunhuang, strict in household propriety and ritual. After my abduction, I was taken as the wife of another. The shame falls on the entire clan. If I had died it would have been better — but alive and returning like this, even my own father and elder brother could scarcely imagine what the consequence would be. As for my dear lord — though he cherishes me deeply, he will not permit me to leave Jade Gate Pass for even a single step. Each day when I feel the loneliness, I walk around the pass within the walls, and I have long since come to know every breach and every dune — I have already come to regard it as home. Except for missing my father and brother, my life has no other want.”
“And yet,”
Xuanzang hesitated, “if things continue as they are, the bloody fighting between the Dunhuang noble clans and Kui Wood Wolf will still never end.”
Zhai Wen walked in silence for a long time before answering, “If I go back — will the fighting end?”
Xuanzang was left speechless with nothing to say.
“Or if I die — will the fighting end?”
Zhai Wen asked. “So whether I live or die, whether I return or not, the world will not change in any way. It will go on as it always has.”
Xuanzang smiled with sorrow. Though this conflict had begun because of Zhai Wen, in truth she was the most innocent person in it. What drove this three-year bloodshed was nothing more than the clinging desire born of the five earthly attachments in every living heart — the destructive karma arising from anger and hatred — the self-clinging born of delusion and ignorance.
In this world, the lives of all people are like a web of dried silk threads. Any single strand, touched by a flame, can spread the fire everywhere, burning all beings without any escape — whether they bear guilt or none, whether they are connected or not.
By now the two had walked into the military town — the area where soldiers of the Han dynasty had been garrisoned. It was a considerable space, and everywhere were low, modest structures. Long since fallen into desolation and ruin, crumbling walls and broken rubble stood alongside newly repaired civilian dwellings, with the everyday belongings of households stacked and arranged all around — like an ordinary lane in any ward of any city.
The two passed through two lanes and came to a desolate spot near the city wall at the edge of the military town. A half-collapsed beacon tower rose here, and below it sat the small fortified yard where beacon soldiers had once been stationed.
Zhai Wen pushed open the yard gate and led Xuanzang inside. The yard was dilapidated and simple, but clean and orderly — evidently swept and tidied at regular intervals. Inside the yard there was a flock of chickens. On the left and right sides of the yard were what had once been storehouses for weapons and provisions — one had now been converted into a kitchen, the other into a henhouse. The chickens were already roosting on the perches inside the henhouse, and from time to time came the flap of wings and a stir of movement — the feeling of living life in every detail.
At the far end of the yard were two large rooms, the doors of which were actually locked. Zhai Wen took a key from her person and opened the lock. “Master, please come in.”
“What place is this?”
Xuanzang asked.
“My home.”
Zhai Wen said with a slight smile.
Xuanzang was immediately taken aback, and watched in surprise as Zhai Wen took out a long-smoldering tinder stick and lit the oil lamp. The scene inside the room was revealed in the glow. The rooms were small — only two chambers. The ceiling and walls had crumbled in places, patched up with reeds mixed with mud plaster. The right-hand chamber was arranged as a parlor. The floor was covered with reed matting, and over it a felt carpet, with a food table set in the center and bowls and chopsticks and a clay pot on top of it. Two mice, hearing the sound of people, squeaked and scurried away into the dark.
The other furnishings were the same as in any ordinary household — all everyday utensils — except that along one wall stood a bookshelf stacked layer upon layer with about a hundred or more scrolls, with a feather duster hanging on the shelf for dusting.
The other side of the parlor appeared to be the owner’s sleeping chamber, partitioned off with a folding screen. The room was small but full of warmth — suffused with the feeling of home.
Zhai Wen asked Xuanzang to sit on the reed matting, then ladled out a bowl of grape juice from a clay jar in the corner of the room and brought it to him.
“Knowing the Master does not drink wine — I do not drink wine either. This is grape juice I pressed myself. The Master has not had a drop of anything since entering Jade Gate Pass. Let this quench your thirst.”
Zhai Wen said.
Xuanzang expressed his thanks and drank the bowl. “The taste is very good.”
Zhai Wen’s expression brightened with pleasure. “In these years at Jade Gate Pass, I have learned all manner of things — brewing wine, weaving silk, cutting and sewing garments, making Hu-style flatbread and noodle dishes, growing vegetables and fruits and melons.”
She spread open her own palms, and indeed the centers of both palms were thickly calloused. “I have also learned to roast mutton and cook fish — though I have not killed anything with my own hands. I am still afraid of blood. The Master does not eat meat or fish, so let me go to the kitchen in a moment and make you some sliced noodles. I can roll the noodle sheets very thin. Drizzle with fragrant oil and scatter some scallion tops — they are very good.”
“Ah…”
Xuanzang was about to demur out of courtesy, but his stomach was genuinely empty. “Then many thanks to Miss Zhai.”
Zhai Wen rose and went out to prepare the meal. Xuanzang looked around the room. The folding screen caught his eye as somehow familiar: an eight-panel screen with a plain silk surface, covered in a meticulous painting of a vast landscape — and looking more carefully, the painting turned out to be Chang’an City. With Zhuque Avenue as the central axis, the scene extended from Mingde Gate all the way to Xuanwu Gate. Xuanzang had never entered the imperial city himself, but looking at the imperial city’s lanes and offices in the painting, they matched what he had seen perfectly.
In Chang’an, a painting like this would absolutely have been a prohibited object — the court strictly forbade private individuals from depicting city plans and geographic maps. It was impossible to know who had painted it. Xuanzang examined it — there was no signature.
Draped over the top of the screen was a length of silk about three chi long, embroidered with a pair of mandarin ducks. What it was made for, Xuanzang could not say.
Just then, he heard Zhai Wen’s voice from the yard outside, warm and smiling: “Si Lang is back? Master Xuanzang is inside waiting for you.”
Xuanzang was surprised — who could possibly be coming at this late hour, and apparently on familiar enough terms to be expected here as though at home?
Xuanzang rose quickly and walked to the doorway — and froze.
Coming in through the yard gate was a white-robed man, and he walked side by side with Zhai Wen, the two of them speaking and laughing with ease and warmth. And that man was unmistakably — Kui Wood Wolf.
“Kui Wood Wolf—”
Xuanzang said, startled.
“Master,”
Zhai Wen said with a smile, “he is not Kui Wood Wolf. He is Lv Sheng.”
Kui Wood Wolf — or rather, Lv Sheng — regarded Xuanzang with a gentle expression and spoke quietly: “Master — it has been many years!”