The news that Cui Xun had forcibly taken the Buddha’s cranial relic from Famen Temple in the middle of the night and whipped the abbot shocked the entire Daming Palace.
The abbot of Famen Temple led thousands of monks to beseech the Empress Dowager and His Majesty for justice. With such irrefutable evidence, the Empress Dowager could not protect Cui Xun and had no choice but to send him to the Dali Temple prison.
Lu Huai, Chief Minister of the Dali Temple, hurried to the palace that night to meet with the Empress Dowager and His Majesty. In Penglai Hall, Lu Huai reported: “Since his imprisonment, Cui Xun has remained silent despite all questioning. If this continues, we’ll have no choice but to use torture.”
Emperor Longxing said angrily, “Then use torture! Use every severe punishment at the Dali Temple’s disposal. I don’t believe he won’t talk!”
Lu Huai pressed his lips together and did not respond. From behind the pearl curtain, the Empress Dowager slowly spoke: “Minister Lu, what do you think?”
Lu Huai bowed his head and said, “Cui Xun’s condition is not good. He has dozens of whip wounds from a barbed whip, leaving his flesh torn and bloody. His forehead and knees are also injured. If we use torture, I fear he won’t survive. So I took the liberty of finding a physician to treat his wounds.”
Emperor Longxing laughed coldly: “So Cui Xun is going to your Dali Temple prison for recuperation?”
Lu Huai dared not make a sound. The Empress Dowager asked: “How did he get so injured while stealing the Buddha’s relic? Who wounded him?”
“I don’t know, Your Highness. When I asked Cui Xun, he didn’t answer.”
In fact, since entering prison, Cui Xun had not spoken a word. When Lu Huai asked about the whereabouts of the Buddha’s relic, he said nothing. When asked why he stole the relic, he said nothing. When asked who had wounded him, he said nothing. Even when asked if he had found Wang Xuan, he remained silent, like a mute.
But when Lu Huai brought in a physician to treat his wounds, he suddenly showed signs of life, clutching at his clothes to prevent the doctor from removing them. Lu Huai became furious: “In your condition, if you don’t let us remove your clothes, do you want to die?”
Cui Xun still wouldn’t let the physician remove his clothes. Lu Huai didn’t bother arguing further and simply instructed the prison guards to hold him down and remove his clothes. Once the clothes were off, Lu Huai was stunned. While he had been mentally prepared for the whip wounds, the horrifying old scars left him dumbfounded.
The guards continued to hold Cui Xun down, but he no longer struggled. Lu Huai, suspecting he had seen wrongly, took an oil lamp and went closer to examine carefully. He touched the sunken scar on Cui Xun’s shoulder blade, which looked as if an iron thorn had pierced through the bone. Lu Huai knew that Cui Xun had endured a year of torture at the Dali Temple, but the Dali Temple had no such instruments of torture.
So these wounds had not been inflicted at the Dali Temple.
The oil lamp illuminated the pale scars, almost matching his skin color, and smooth in appearance. They seemed to be quite old, but not more than ten years old, because ten years ago, Cui Xun was only thirteen and still living with the Cui family. At that time, Lu Huai had seen Cui Xun several times at banquets of Chang’an’s noble families. He had appeared completely normal, certainly not like someone who had suffered such torture. These wounds must have been inflicted after he joined the military.
And since General Guo Qinwei of the Heavenly Guard loved his soldiers like his own children, these wounds couldn’t have been inflicted during his time with the Heavenly Guard. After the Heavenly Guard, there were two years with the Turks.
Lu Huai asked gravely: “How did you get these old wounds? Were they inflicted by the Turks?”
Cui Xun merely closed his eyes and remained silent. Lu Huai continued: “Didn’t you surrender to the Turks? Weren’t you made a Royal Prince of the Turks? How could you be injured like this?”
This didn’t match the rumors that Cui Xun had immediately become the paramour of a Turkish princess upon arriving in Turkish territory, living in luxury and splendor.
Cui Xun didn’t answer Lu Huai’s question. He kept his eyes closed, but his trembling eyelashes betrayed his inner humiliation and pain.
Lu Huai raised his voice and asked: “Cui Wangshu, what exactly did the Turks do to you?”
Lu Huai’s hand holding the oil lamp trembled slightly. He was afraid.
Although his opinion of Cui Xun had greatly improved when Cui Xun risked his life to reveal the truth about the Heavenly Guard case, he had also begun to question Cui Xun’s supposed surrender to the Turks. After all, how could someone who feared death be willing to sacrifice his life to seek justice for the Heavenly Guard six years after their deaths?
Now, seeing the old wounds on Cui Xun’s body, his doubts seemed to have an answer. Lu Huai thought about how, for the past six years, he had cursed and humiliated Cui Xun. He had even specially sent a lotus-shaped wine vessel to shame him. If… if Cui Xun had never surrendered to the Turks, then his curses and humiliations… what did they amount to?
Lu Huai tightened his grip on the oil lamp: “Cui Wangshu, did the Turks torture you?”
Cui Xun finally slowly opened his eyes. His eyes were filled with mockery, though it was unclear whether he was mocking Lu Huai or himself. In the dim prison cell, he spoke his first words with cold detachment: “Yes, not only torture, but also a prisoner’s presentation ceremony, and being stripped naked and put in a dog cage to be viewed like livestock. Are you satisfied now?”
Lu Huai’s eyes widened, and the oil lamp in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter, rolling to one side.
Cui Xun was from a noble family, as was Lu Huai. No one understood better than Lu Huai what it felt like for someone raised with the principle that “a scholar can be killed but not humiliated” to face such degradation.
Moreover, the Cui clan of Boling was the foremost of the great families, the crown of aristocracy. What would it feel like for a legitimate son of the Cui family to endure such humiliation?
After saying these words, Cui Xun seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He closed his eyes, not looking at Lu Huai’s expression or the guards’ expressions. Whatever their reactions—whether pity or shock—would be just another humiliation to him.
Lu Huai gradually clenched his fists. Looking at Cui Xun with his terrifying scars, he suddenly recalled how Cui Xun had appeared in Chang’an before joining the Heavenly Guard—like fine jade, proud and lofty, a young man who seemed to hold no one in high regard. But who could have imagined that such a proud young man would one day suffer such a living hell at the hands of the Turks?
He felt a fire burning in his heart, though he didn’t know if this fire was directed at himself, at Cui Xun, or at the Turks. He grabbed the trembling physician and shouted: “Use the best medicine! Heal him! Don’t let him die in my Dali Temple!”
Then he released the physician and instructed the guards: “Take good care of him. Remove his clothes when necessary. If he struggles against it, tie him down, but no one is to torture him!”
After leaving the prison cell, Lu Huai pulled out the records of Cui Xun’s interrogation at the Dali Temple from years ago. The records showed that despite enduring extreme torture, Cui Xun had consistently denied surrendering to the Turks. Presumably, those who carried out the torture must have seen the horrifying scars on his body. If they had investigated carefully, they should have discovered the truth. Yet the Dali Temple had not investigated but had continued with the torture. If the Empress Dowager hadn’t saved Cui Xun in the end, he would have died in the Dali Temple prison.
Lu Huai tightened his grip on the records. He was bewildered. Why had the Dali Temple refused to listen or look, resorting only to torture? Connecting this with the truth about the Heavenly Guard’s destruction and Cui Xun’s life-risking case reversal, he concluded: someone didn’t want Cui Xun to leave the Dali Temple prison alive.
And Cui Xun, after suffering such humiliation at the hands of the Turks, had finally returned to Great Zhou only to be subjected to all manner of torture at the Dali Temple. No one had listened to his grievances, no one had been willing to save him. If he hadn’t chosen to become the Empress Dowager’s hound, could he have survived?
His subsequent actions at the Investigation Department—in the bloody and cruel power struggles that have existed since ancient times—certainly didn’t make him a good person by pure and flawless standards. But after experiencing such things, could he still be a good person?
Lu Huai asked himself, if he were in Cui Xun’s shoes, could he still be a good person, a gentleman? No, he would probably have killed himself in shame and indignation on the day of the prisoner’s presentation ceremony, unable to bear such humiliation.
He couldn’t have done it.
In Penglai Hall, Lu Huai responded to Emperor Longxing’s insistence on torture: “Your Majesty, the Great Zhou has three exemptions from torture: those above seventy years of age, those below fourteen, and those with disabilities. During interrogation, severe torture cannot be used on them. Cui Xun falls under the category of the disabled. In my opinion, torture should not be used.”
He cited the laws of the Great Zhou. Emperor Longxing laughed coldly: “Extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures. The Buddha’s cranial relic is the nation’s greatest treasure, and Cui Xun brazenly stole it. Just because he has a disability, should we not even question him? What if he stole the Buddha’s relic to collude with the Turks? Would we still not question him? Minister Lu, are you perhaps sheltering Cui Xun?”
Lu Huai pressed his lips together. In the past, he would have considered the word “sheltering” a great insult to him. But now, he merely lowered his eyes and insisted: “Cui Xun is already covered in wounds. Further severe torture would only take his life. I believe this is inappropriate.”
“Without torture, can you get him to reveal the whereabouts of the Buddha’s relic?”
“Enough!” The Empress Dowager, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, ending the dispute between the emperor and his minister. “Minister Lu, how do you propose to handle this?”
Lu Huai cupped his hands: “Your Highness, Cui Xun refuses to speak. Given his character, even under torture, he won’t talk. The Empress Dowager knows this better than I do. For stealing the Buddha’s cranial relic, the Empress Dowager and His Majesty could execute him according to the law, but…” his throat inexplicably choked up: “but he already has enough wounds. I beg the Empress Dowager and His Majesty not to torture him further.”
Recalling the numerous old wounds on Cui Xun’s body, Lu Huai’s eyes reddened, and he could not continue. The Empress Dowager was silent for a moment, then said: “Very well, we’ll follow Minister Lu’s advice. First, treat his wounds. We’ll question him about the Buddha’s cranial relic later.”
After securing a chance of survival for Cui Xun at the Daming Palace, Lu Huai went to see him in his cell. Cui Xun had been dressed in clean clothes, his wounds treated, and he was curled up on the stone bed in the cell, sleeping fitfully. However, his hands were tied behind his back. Lu Huai frowned and asked the guard, “I was just speaking figuratively. Why did you tie him up?”
The guard said with frustration, “Actually, he didn’t struggle much when we removed his clothes. It was when we were about to throw away his old clothes that he made a big commotion. We could barely hold him down, and his wounds were about to reopen. We had no choice.”
“What’s the fuss about throwing away his clothes?”
“He seemed desperate to grab these two items.”
The guard opened his palm to reveal a trampled gold-plated silver incense ball and a peony-patterned five-colored brocade pouch.
Lu Huai took the two items. The gold-plated silver incense ball had been crushed into several pieces, and the incense bowl and spices inside were also broken into a mess, mixed with the ball fragments. Lu Huai glanced at the guard, who stuttered: “The doctor accidentally stepped on it earlier.”
The peony-patterned five-colored brocade pouch had some bloodstains and was somewhat damaged, with loose threads. It looked like it had been hit by a whip, though the damage wasn’t severe. It seemed that Cui Xun had desperately protected it over his heart, which was why the pouch hadn’t been completely torn apart.
Through the damaged part of the pouch, Lu Huai could see a red cord with bound hair—clearly a token of love. He wondered whose it was.
Never mind. Lu Huai closed his palm: “The incense ball is beyond repair, but the pouch can be mended.”
He hesitated for a moment, then told the guard: “Tell him that I’ve taken the incense ball and the pouch for repair. Tell him not to worry, I’ll return them to him.”
The guard answered, “Yes, sir.” Lu Huai added, “Also, loosen his ropes. Don’t keep him tied up.”
The guard answered “Yes, sir” again. Lu Huai said nothing more, just staring at Cui Xun, curled up asleep on the simple stone bed. His face was as pale as snow, his body so thin it was almost skeletal. In a daze, Lu Huai thought of the proud young man from the Boling Cui clan whom he had first met when they were teenagers. Perhaps it was because too many things had happened recently—his uncle had died, Wang Xuan had disappeared—that he had begun to gradually overturn things he had previously believed without question.
He wondered if Cui Xun had found Wang Xuan. If not, why not just say so? If he had, why not say that? Why refuse to say anything at all? In the past, Lu Huai might have suspected that Cui Xun had some other scheme, but now, he couldn’t help but think more positively of Cui Xun. He wondered if Cui Xun had discovered something that he feared would implicate Lu Huai if revealed.
For forcibly taking the Buddha’s cranial relic, Cui Xun would be sentenced to death according to the law. Did he believe he was about to die and therefore didn’t want to drag Lu Huai down with him?
Lu Huai’s mind was filled with thousands of thoughts. Looking at the crane-thin young man on the stone bed, he sighed softly. Perhaps he should seriously question all those infamous accusations laid upon Cui Xun.