When Yaoying awoke, the cave was shrouded in mist, vapors swirling.

Her entire body felt stiff and sore; she could hear her joints cracking with each movement. She couldn’t help but let out a few groans as she tried to slowly move her arms.

As she raised her arm, her shoulder brushed against a warm, firm chest.

Yaoying froze, lifting her eyelids.

Tanmolouqie sat cross-legged beside her, wearing the kasaya she had dried by the brazier, holding a cloth as he picked up her long hair that had fallen into the hot spring water, wringing it out bit by bit.

Daylight filtered in through the cave ceiling, filling the room with floating golden light.

Bathed in brilliant golden rays, his slender fingers gently smoothed her hair, his eyes downcast, his expression devout, as if he were standing in a high Buddha hall during a ceremony, preaching sutras before thousands of believers – solemn and serene.

Austere and inviolable.

Yaoying couldn’t help but hold her breath, frozen in place. The image of him removing his kasaya the night before flashed through her mind, and she suddenly felt an inexplicable guilt, her cheeks growing warm.

Tanmolouqie hadn’t noticed she was awake and continued focusing on wringing out her wet hair with the cloth, his well-defined fingers gently combing through the thick black strands, his expression serene, jade eyes clear as water.

The stone cave was deeply quiet, with only the faint sound of her hair entangling with the prayer beads on his wrist.

Yaoying trembled slightly, staring at his distinct profile for a while until she felt dizzy, and called softly: “Master…”

As soon as she spoke, she realized her throat was dry and painful as if burning with fierce fire.

She leaned over the stone platform, lowering her head to cough. Suddenly she felt a cool touch under her chin as Tanmolouqie’s slender fingers brushed aside her hair and lifted her chin.

He looked down at her, brows slightly furrowed, dropped the cloth, and with two curved fingers, lightly touched her cheek before quickly withdrawing.

Yaoying shuddered and said: “I must have caught a chill last night.”

Tanmolouqie’s gaze moved downward, settling on her form. She wore his gray kasaya, the collar and sleeves loose, her graceful figure partially visible, a glimpse of snow-white skin, delicate and elegant.

He shifted his gaze away and made to stand, but Yaoying quickly pressed down on his arm.

“Master, I’m fine.”

She shook her heavy head, trying to drive away the dizziness, and leaned forward to look at Tanmolouqie’s legs: “Master, don’t try to walk yet. Are your legs better?”

His face was pale, and his legs didn’t seem to have recovered.

Tanmolouqie sat beside her, and as she leaned closer, she ended up pressing against his chest. Through the kasaya, the feeling of skin contact was particularly clear, her body soft like clarified butter.

He moved back slightly.

Yaoying rolled up the hem of his robe and trouser legs, carefully examining his legs, reaching out to press gently a few times. Feeling they were somewhat better than the night before, she let out a long breath and looked up.

“Does it hurt?”

She asked softly.

Bright light filled the sky as prayer flags moved gently.

Tanmolouqie gazed at Yaoying calmly for a while before shaking his head.

“It’s nothing.”

Yaoying raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. His expression was so composed that she truly couldn’t tell if he was feeling better or just enduring.

For someone who lived with such constant illness and pain, suffering during attacks had become commonplace.

Tanmolouqie still stood up, his back straight, speaking gently but firmly: “You have a fever and need medicine. I’ll help you out.”

Yaoying stood up as well but felt dizzy, her legs weak. The stone platform was covered in moisture, and as she took a step, her foot slipped and she stumbled.

Her elbow tightened as Tanmolouqie’s cool hand gripped her arm.

“Don’t fall.”

He said quietly.

Yaoying made a sound of acknowledgment, leaning against his arm for support. She looked down at the kasaya she wore, glanced around, and finally looked toward her clothes from the night before by the brazier.

“Master, wait, I need to change out of the kasaya.”

She said softly.

Tanmolouqie followed her gaze but remained silent, supporting her as they walked to the corner. He let her lean against the rock, then reached up to take down her now-dried clothes one by one, handed them to her, and turned his back.

Yaoying carried the clothes behind the rock.

Tanmolouqie stood by the boulder, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Behind him came rustling sounds as she removed the kasaya and put on her clothes, the soft sounds of fabric rubbing and sashes falling intermittently filtering through the misty vapor.

Tanmolouqie gazed at the cave wall, thinking of the “Subduing the Demon” mural on the back hall wall of the temple.

Beautiful young demonesses anointed themselves with perfume, making coy gestures, bewitchingly alluring as they tried to tempt the Buddha, disrupting his cultivation. The Buddha used just a touch of his power, and the enchanting demonesses instantly transformed into white-haired, wrinkled old crones, nothing but skin and bones, covered in boils, their shame exposed.

The illusion in his dreams would also turn to dry bones.

But right now, the one standing behind him was no illusory demoness.

Illusions might employ a thousand techniques, but they remained unreal.

She stood there, embodying his desires.

“Master, I’m ready.”

Yaoying said softly, her voice hoarse, followed by several coughs.

Tanmolouqie came back to himself and turned around.

Yaoying emerged holding the kasaya, her steps unsteady as she rubbed her temples: “Master, I feel dizzy.”

Tanmolouqie said nothing but extended his arm.

Yaoying, familiar with the gesture, grabbed his kasaya sleeve and leaned against him.

Leaving the stone cave, Yaoying instinctively scanned the depths of the narrow passage with vigilance.

“Ali has gone out,” Tanmolouqie said. “Did it frighten you last night?”

Yaoying, feeling groggy, her fingers tightly gripping his sleeve, nodded and explained how she had returned to the Holy City.

“Yesterday Banruo said he had something important to give me. I was waiting by the courtyard wall when I accidentally entered Ali’s yard. It seemed angry, and as I tried to avoid it, I accidentally entered the passage…”

At this point, Yaoying looked up at Tanmolouqie.

“The Regent had taken me through the secret passage before. I kept turning and somehow ended up in the stone cave.”

He calmly said: “It must have been Banruo’s oversight.”

Yaoying looked away and complained quietly: “I’ll call him over as soon as we get out! See what important thing he wanted to give me, making me wait so long… being all mysterious about it, not letting me bring my guards…”

Perhaps because of her feverish state, her tone unconsciously revealed a petulance rarely seen.

Tanmolouqie’s brows moved slightly as he lowered his gaze.

She leaned against him, her black hair touching his arm, completely trusting.

Ahead were steep stone steps. He slowed his pace, waiting for Yaoying to keep up.

“I apologize for last night’s offense, Princess…”

Yaoying shook her head: “I walked in on my own and disturbed Master. Please don’t worry about it. Master can rest assured, I won’t breathe a word about the hot spring cave.”

Her tone sounded completely unconcerned.

Tanmolouqie fell silent.

The passage grew quiet.

The two walked forward in the darkness, surrounded by stillness, their breaths intermingling.

After climbing several flights of steps, light gradually appeared ahead – they were approaching the exit.

Yaoying glanced at Tanmolouqie and said: “Last night, Master said you were suffering and wanted someone to keep you company…”

Tanmolouqie didn’t even blink as he said: “Just fevered ramblings. The Princess shouldn’t take it seriously.”

Yaoying’s eyes rolled slightly as she stared at him for a good while, then made a weak sound of acknowledgment.

Bisuo was waiting in the side hall at the secret passage exit. Hearing footsteps, he stepped forward.

The hidden door opened as Tanmolouqie and Li Yaoying emerged one after the other.

Bisuo quickly glanced over both of them.

Tanmolouqie helped Yaoying walk to the felt curtain and said: “No one will come here. Princess, lie down for a while. I’ll have someone prepare the medicine.”

Yaoying’s head felt heavy and her feet light as she sat down as instructed. “My guards are waiting outside the King’s Temple…”

“I’ll send someone to inform them. Don’t get up, take the medicine first.”

Tanmolouqie paused.

“Your body is weak, and you’re still taking the healer’s pills… Wait until you’re better before leaving.”

Bisuo, who had followed them in, heard this and silently sighed.

Though his face showed no expression as he spoke, he seemed unaware of how gentle his tone was as he tried to make her stay.

Yaoying’s expression showed hesitation.

Tanmolouqie didn’t press her.

She thought for a moment, then nodded.

Tanmolouqie said nothing, turned and left the side hall, wrote out a prescription, ordered guards to prepare the medicine, and then stood in the front corridor, hands behind his back, letting the wind blow over him for a while.

She would leave eventually – sooner or later made no difference, delay wouldn’t change anything.

But when she had nodded, ripples had stirred in his heart.

He walked down the long steps.

“Call Banruo here.”

…

Banruo came when summoned and, seeing Yaoying in the side hall, began complaining before she could say anything: “Princess, where did you go last night? Didn’t I ask you to wait? You were so hard to find! I thought you couldn’t wait and had left the city.”

Seeing his serious expression that didn’t seem to be making excuses, Yaoying didn’t mention the leopard but asked: “What did you want to give me? Why did the messenger say it had to do with Yuanjue?”

Banruo looked embarrassed, glanced around, and stammered: “I knew the Princess was leaving… I sent everyone away last night, planning to give you the item secretly, but then you disappeared! Afraid someone might see, I had to take it back to my room.”

Yaoying was puzzled: “What item? Why can’t others see it?”

Banruo’s face turned red as he glared at her, speaking incoherently: “The Princess will know when you see it, don’t ask me, I know nothing! Anyway, it’s something the Princess wants… The Princess has done great merit protecting the Holy City, that’s why I secretly took out that item to give to the Princess… Wait here, I’ll go get it from my room.”

He turned and ran off, returning shortly carrying a tightly wrapped package to the side hall. After vigilantly scanning around to confirm no one else was outside, he carefully unwrapped the package.

Layer after layer of wrapping gradually revealed an exquisite jeweled box.

Banruo pushed the box toward Yaoying and quickly withdrew his hands as if burned, saying with a pained expression: “Yuanjue told me the Princess wanted this bronze Buddha. It was found among Princess Manda’s belongings, probably nothing proper… The Princess has been devotedly studying this past year and shouldn’t touch such unsavory things! But the Buddha’s son said everyone has their path, and since the Princess is about to leave the Holy City and won’t enter the Buddhist path, being a person of the mortal world, if the Princess likes these things, it’s no one else’s business. The Princess won’t return, and since Yuanjue and I have known the Princess, we’ll give it to you to keep.”

He finished and put on a fierce expression, “Princess must remember to keep yourself pure and use it properly, not like Princess Manda.”

“Also, absolutely don’t tell anyone it was from Yuanjue and me!”

Yaoying’s mouth twitched.

So this was why Banruo had specially asked her to wait in a secluded place yesterday – for this bronze Buddha.

She looked at the jeweled box, shaking her head with a smile when hurried footsteps sounded at the door as a guard rushed in without announcement.

“Princess! I’ve been looking for you all night! A letter from Gaochang!”

Yaoying immediately stood up and took the letter, her nose suddenly stinging with emotion, her hands trembling with excitement: she couldn’t mistake it – this was Li Zhongqian’s handwriting!

“Prepare the horses!”

…

A short while later, Tanmolouqie returned to the side hall carrying a bowl of steaming medicine.

Bisuo stood guard outside, seeing him return with an expression of wanting to speak but holding back.

Tanmolouqie glanced at him, stepped into the hall, pushed aside the felt curtain, and looked toward the couch.

The couch was empty, the brocade blanket turned back, and a hair ribbon lying on the carpet.

She was gone.

Tanmolouqie walked to the couch and set down the medicine bowl.

Bisuo stood in the doorway and said: “My Lord, the Princess just left, hasn’t yet left the city.”

Tanmolouqie remained silent, picked up the ribbon from the carpet, walked out of the side hall, and stood by the railing, gazing toward the temple gates.

The red sun rose in the east as the temple’s various pagodas and halls stood silently, their roof tiles reflecting rays of golden light. Several fast horses galloped down the long street leading from the temple, heading straight for the city gates, kicking up clouds of dust.

A gentle breeze passed by, making Tanmolouqie’s kasaya flutter. The ribbon wrapped around his hand was caught by the wind, suddenly slipping from between his fingers.

The crimson ribbon danced in the wind, flying beyond the long corridor.

Tanmolouqie raised his hand.

The ribbon had already floated far away.

Time and again he let her go, time and again she returned.

This time, when he asked her to stay, she had agreed to remain a few more days.

Yet in the time it took to brew a bowl of medicine, she vanished without a trace, so hurried she left without even a word of farewell.

Dream illusions, foam shadows, morning dew, and lightning – nothing more than this.