Monda Tipa rose to examine Tanmoluojia’s legs, his expression grave.

Bore and two other guards gathered around the bed, speaking in hushed tones with Monda Tipa.

Everyone’s expressions were somber.

Yet Tanmoluojia, despite his severe illness, appeared the most composed. His cold gaze swept across their faces as he gave quiet instructions.

Bore nodded in agreement while wiping away tears.

They spoke in Sanskrit, which Yaoying couldn’t understand at all, though she noticed Tanmoluojia’s hoarse voice still carried a certain elegance even in his illness.

The approaching footsteps that startled her grew louder, and a guard lifted the curtain to hurry into the inner chamber, speaking in Hu language: “Your Majesty, the Grand Minister, and others have arrived. They insist on entering the hall for an audience!”

Bore and the others exchanged worried glances.

“Don’t let them in!” Bore stood guard before the bed and asked, “Where is the Regent?”

The guard replied: “General Su went to Gaochang not long ago and hasn’t returned to the city.”

“What about Princess Chima?”

“General Ashina escorted Princess Chima to Yunfu City. They’re not in the city either. We’ve sent people to summon them,” the guard’s face was covered in sweat, “The Grand Minister and others are about to force their way in!”

The guards were at a loss, and Monda Tipa, not wanting to interfere in palace politics, sighed helplessly.

In the oppressive silence, the drowsy Tanmoluojia on the bed suddenly sat up. His thin shoulders tensed like a drawn bowstring, but his pale face showed no trace of panic as he said softly: “Help me to the main hall.”

His voice remained composed as ever.

Bore wiped his eyes and bent to support Tanmoluojia, his movements practiced as if this had happened countless times before.

Yaoying stepped forward, “You’d better not get up.”

Tanmoluojia raised his eyes, deep green pupils focusing on her.

His gaze was as cold as his person, seeming to look at you yet also through you at something else as if everything in the world was mundane in his eyes.

An intangible pressure emanated from him, not sharp, but subtle yet present.

Yaoying held his gaze for a moment before looking down at his legs. Her brows furrowed slightly as she said in somewhat halting Hu language: “Your legs are so swollen, you must rest in bed. If you get up now, even with the Anxi pills, these legs will be permanently ruined.”

She didn’t know how Tanmoluojia had died, only that his last public sermon had been delivered while being carried to the dharma platform. Seeing his legs now, she guessed they must have been useless by then.

Bore was shocked and asked between sobs: “Your Majesty, why not tell the Grand Minister the truth!”

Tanmoluojia lowered his gaze to look at his legs, his eyelashes trembling slightly as he said quietly: “It’s nothing.”

With the Northern Rong watching like tigers and court politics unstable, news of his serious illness couldn’t leak out.

Bore and the guard exchanged glances, not daring to say more as they helped him up.

Yaoying’s frown deepened.

If Tanmoluojia wouldn’t take care of himself, did those around him treat him as a god?

He was human.

She had heard from slaves that while the palace nobles and commoners all hated Han people, only this monk was compassionate, treating all slaves as his subjects, being kind to people of all ethnicities, and encouraging followers to coexist peacefully with those of Zoroastrianism, Manichaeism, and Nestorianism.

Each day this man lived was another day the Northern Rong couldn’t breach the royal court, and thus couldn’t withdraw their main force to attack the Central Plains.

Yaoying’s thoughts turned several times before she stopped Bore, saying: “Your king cannot get up now. Find some excuse to send the Grand Minister away.”

Bore looked at her warily several times: “The Grand Minister is stubborn, ordinary excuses won’t stop him…”

“I am the excuse.”

Yaoying cut off Bore’s words, raising her hand to smooth her hair. Her eyes curved playfully upward, rippling like autumn waters. Like a tree full of buds suddenly blooming in an instant, she radiated charm and beauty that none dared to stare at directly.

In a flash, the room filled with spring warmth.

“Go tell the Grand Minister that the Great Wei Princess is lovesick, desperately clinging to the Buddha’s son, and he cannot get away.”

Bore’s face reddened as he looked down at Tanmoluojia.

Tanmoluojia didn’t raise his head to look at Yaoying, his eyes downcast, looking at the worn straw sandals on the girl’s feet.

Along this journey, he had forgotten to instruct his subordinates to take care of this Wei Dynasty princess. She had traveled with the slaves and must have endured many hardships.

Tanmoluojia coughed once and said: “There’s no need. This matter has nothing to do with the Seventh Princess.”

Yaoying was surprised to discover he spoke in the northern official dialect of the Central Plains, and even more fluently than Monda Tipa who had stayed in the Central Plains for a long time, without any accent at all.

It was said that he had been a prodigy in his youth, mastering seven or eight languages by his teens. She hadn’t expected this to include Chinese.

Such a person, if he had simply been a monk devoted to studying and researching Buddhist principles, surely wouldn’t have suffered so much.

Yaoying sighed inwardly and smiled, saying carelessly: “I was in danger, and the Buddha’s son saved me from peril. I should repay him.”

As she spoke, she crouched down to meet Tanmoluojia’s gaze, her bright black eyes reflecting his pale face.

“Your legs are in this state, you really shouldn’t move.”

Before he could say anything, Yaoying stood up, untied her hair ribbon, took off her tattered straw sandals, and walked barefoot on the carpet. With her long hair flowing over her shoulders, she walked out step by step, each movement graceful as lotus flowers blooming, her figure elegant.

Between the magnificent beast patterns, a pair of smooth snow-white jade feet revealed themselves, subtly suggesting an alluring charm that made one’s mouth go dry.

The guards in the room were dumbfounded.

Outside the main hall, a group of middle-aged men in their forties and fifties strode up the stone steps.

The man in the lead was the Grand Minister of the royal court, Kang Mozhe. He wore a narrow-sleeved short robe with a turned-down collar decorated with paired birds, a waist belt, and tall boots. A jeweled knife hung at his waist, and his long hair was tied back with colored ribbons. As he walked, he berated the guards: “The king returned last night, why wasn’t the court immediately summoned for an audience?”

Bore went forward to meet them, pointing at Li Yaoying who was blocking the hall entrance while weeping: “The Grand Minister doesn’t know, but the Wei Princess is desperate to die for love, insisting on marrying the king. He really cannot get away.”

Kang Mozhe was stunned and looked in the direction Bore was pointing.

It was a delicate and beautiful profile, fresh and enchanting, with grace surpassing the flowers blooming wildly across the mountain valleys in early spring.

Everyone caught just a brief glimpse, yet they couldn’t help but soften their breathing.

Yaoying met their scrutinizing gazes, sobbing softly, crying even more sorrowfully.

Kang Mozhe had already heard from his private soldiers about the Wei Princess proposing marriage before thousands of troops. He had thought the soldiers were exaggerating, but now seeing her in person, he realized they hadn’t described even half of the Wei Princess’s beauty.

True beauty could be blind – to fall for a monk who wouldn’t be moved by beauty.

Kang Mozhe’s eyes rolled slightly as he smiled: “To think such beauty exists in the world.”

The others looked at each other.

The king was the Buddha’s son, and he was being pursued by a beauty. At such an awkward moment, should they go in or not?

“We can’t stop the Wei Princess,” the guards all put on anxious expressions. “She’s a woman and a princess from the Central Plains. We dare not harm her. Whenever the king appears, she follows him without leaving his side. The king has no way to deal with her either, he can only hide in his chambers.”

Everyone understood and smiled lightly: what could the king do when such beauty was pursuing him?

If it were them, they would have already consummated the relationship. Only the king could resist such temptation.

Bore straightened his back and said: “Ministers, please return. When the king has resolved the matter with the Central Plains princess, he will summon you.”

Kang Mozhe narrowed his eyes.

The others had already started laughing: even the Buddha’s son with his pure six senses could encounter such a situation. “We just wanted to confirm if the king had safely returned to the city. Since he is well, we shall take our leave.”

They winked at Kang Mozhe: “Grand Minister, now is not the time for an audience.”

Kang Mozhe’s gaze lingered on Yaoying for a long while, a cold light flashing in his eyes before he turned to leave with the others.

Only after their figures had disappeared past the palace gates did Bore quietly let out a breath.

Outside the gates, Kang Mozhe bid farewell to the others and called his guard: “Tell General Xue that a stunning beauty has arrived in the city, and she’s a Han woman.”

The guard accepted the order and left.

After confirming the Grand Minister had truly left, Bore returned to the hall entrance, looking somewhat dazed: “The Grand Minister left just like that.”

Yaoying stood up, wiped away her tears, and tied up her hair.

The ministers weren’t at all concerned about whether her presence would harm Tanmoluojia’s reputation. Instead, they all showed expressions of schadenfreude.

It seemed the royal court was not stable, with the monarch wary of his ministers while they harbored their thoughts.

No wonder when Tanmoluojia died, the royal court fell apart.

Yaoying returned to the inner hall where it was quiet behind the curtains, with only the sound of burning candles.

Tanmoluojia had fallen into a drowsy sleep.

Bore ran back to the bedside, knelt, and looked back at Monda Tipa with hope filling his face.

Monda Tipa sighed deeply: “Acupuncture can only ease the pain.”

Yaoying nodded: “Acupuncture can only buy some time, he won’t last long. When will the people you sent to the Central Plains for medicine return to the royal court?”

Monda Tipa shook his head sorrowfully: “The Regent fears the news leaking out, so he can only secretly send people mixed in with merchant caravans heading east to seek medicine. He has sent over twenty people in total. Now that the Northern Rong has cut off the trade routes, caravans to the Central Plains have vanished without a trace. The only caravan that safely returned went to Tibet instead, and that guard didn’t bring back any useful medicine.”

Yaoying recalled what she had seen on this journey. Among the royal court caravan that Prince Yelu had killed, guards were searching for medicine for Tanmoluojia. With the Northern Rong standing between the Western Regions and the Central Plains, blocking transportation, it would be as difficult as ascending to heaven for the royal court to successfully bring back medicine from the Central Plains. Those guards were likely in grave danger.

And there wasn’t enough time.

Yaoying said: “I know where to find water viper grass in the Western Regions.”

Joy simultaneously sparked in Bore and Monda Tipa’s eyes.

Yaoying looked at them: “It’s in Haidu Aling’s camp.”

She had been born weak and had spent many years recuperating, never able to stop taking medicine. One of the ingredients in the Linglu Pills was water viper grass. When she married into the Yelu tribe, her dowry included large amounts of precious medicines and pre-made pills. When she and the guards fled from the Yelu tribe, they only took some Linglu Pills, leaving all that dowry in the tribe.

And the entire Yelu tribe had ultimately fallen into Haidu Aling’s hands.

Yaoying said with certainty: “I’ve asked around. The wealth that Haidu Aling plundered has been gradually transported back and is hidden in his camp.”

The Khan of Wakhan’s son wouldn’t attack Haidu Aling just because of some rumors – his camp held many treasures and silks brought back from the Central Plains.

Monda Tipa was stunned.

The medicine that could cure the Buddha’s son was with the Northern Rong.

“The Northern Rong won’t kindly give us the medicine, and we can’t let them know how important those medicines are to the king,” Bore stood up, frowning. “We also can’t forcefully take it – the royal court just established a covenant with the Northern Rong, we can’t attack them.”

Monda Tipa remained silent. When it came to military and state affairs, he never spoke up.

Bore paced back and forth anxiously: “And the Regent isn’t here! General Ashina isn’t here either! There’s not a single person who can make a decision! What should we do?”

Yaoying glanced at Tanmoluojia on the bed and said: “The royal court doesn’t need to attack the Northern Rong. That’s my dowry.”

Bore turned to look at her.

Yaoying walked to the writing desk, picked up a brush, and wrote a letter on silk: “As a princess of Great Wei, I demand that the Northern Rong Khan return my dowry.”

She paused and raised her eyebrows at Bore.

“As for whether the Northern Rong will honestly return my dowry, that depends on who delivers this letter. If the messenger is from the royal court’s central army, the Northern Rong Khan might personally urge Haidu Aling to return the dowry.”

Bore understood her implied meaning.

If the royal court helped the Wei Princess retrieve her dowry from the Northern Rong, wouldn’t that announce to the world that the Buddha’s son had accepted the Wei Princess’s proposal?

Then wouldn’t this Han woman have a legitimate reason to stay?

“No!” Bore shook his head decisively.

Yaoying spread her hands: “Right now the Buddha’s son’s life hangs by a thread, and the only medicine that can save him is right before our eyes. I have no troops or generals, and the Northern Rong won’t return my dowry just because of my letter. What should be done – you decide for yourselves.”

After all, it wasn’t she who needed the water viper grass now.

Tanmoluojia’s life hanging by a thread was one thing, and the ministers had just been sent away – in two days they would again demand to see their sovereign.

They had no way out.

Bore’s expression changed repeatedly, alternating between anger, worry, and hesitation. He looked back at the sleeping Tanmoluojia, struggled for a long while, and then took the letter from Yaoying’s hand.

“Han woman, do you dare swear that everything you said is true?”

Yaoying smiled and looked at Monda Tipa: “Master, I speak nothing but the truth.”

Monda Tipa pressed his palms together: “This poor monk believes the princess.”

He nodded to Bore and said a few words in Sanskrit.

Bore clutched the letter tightly, his fingers twisting with force as he lifted his chin: “Fine! I’ll go to Yunfu City to discuss with Princess Chima and General Ashina. If the princess and general agree, I’ll personally deliver this letter!”

He gritted his teeth and rushed out.

The other guards escorted Yaoying to a room in the side hall and kept watch. Monda Tipa apologetically said: “I hope the princess understands, news of the Buddha’s son’s critical condition cannot spread.”

Yaoying understood his concerns and smiled, shaking her head to indicate it was fine.

They were all in the same boat now, and she too hoped Tanmoluojia could overcome this crisis.

Her hopes of returning to the Central Plains via the Northern Route of the Western Regions now rested on him.