About a year ago, in a prison cell under the Tianmen Bureau, a prisoner was secretly delivered.
It was a young monk wearing coarse robes and straw sandals. When first brought here, he appeared to have just recovered from a serious illness, extremely weak. After lying here for most of a month, he gradually regained his spirit.
This was a secret place that held only special serious criminals. Those previously sent here either died silently in some deep night, disappearing forever with all traces of their worldly existence erased, or were eventually taken away by someone, similarly vanishing without a trace thereafter.
No one had ever walked out of here.
This monk would presumably be the same. In the jailers’ eyes, he was no different from a dead man, and no one wanted to know who he was or why he had been sent here. His only difference from others was that those who came before often first became frantic, then desperate, and finally turned into walking corpses.
But he was not like this. From the first day of his arrival, he appeared unusually calm.
After his body gradually recovered, one day he made a request, hoping to have his previous scriptures returned to him and asking for writing materials. The jailers reported upward. Soon, this prisoner’s request was granted, and many scriptures written in tadpole script that the jailers couldn’t understand were sent in. At the same time, the jailers also received orders from above to satisfy all the monks’ daily needs.
However, what surprised the jailers was that this prisoner monk made no demands regarding treatment. From that day forward, he began burying himself in writing.
The prison cell was as dark as night. His world also had no distinction between day and night. Every day, he would wake and write, sleep when tired, seeing neither dawn nor dusk, distinguishing neither cold nor heat. His only purpose for living seemed to be the scriptures in his hand. After several months, the stack of scriptures he had written piled against the wall slowly grew higher. Correspondingly, his body became even weaker than when he first arrived. The prison was cold and damp, with no sunlight for long periods. Combined with his day-and-night translation work, he fell ill again. Fearing responsibility, the jailers reported upward. A few days later, he was transferred out.
This was an ordinary deep night.
In Huguo Temple in the western part of the city, in a desolate courtyard monastery in the back temple, young monk Wu Qing saw the current Prince Consort Chen Lun arrive again.
Three days ago, the Prince Consort had come here alone. Wu Qing didn’t know what he had said to the person inside, but after he left, Wu Qing saw that person sit quietly for a moment, then open his eyes and immediately continue translating scriptures day and night without rest, not pausing for even a moment.
This young dharma master had been secretly sent here by the Prince Consort last year. After arriving, he settled here. He had never stepped outside even once, nor could outsiders possibly enter. This monastery was a prison cell—no one knew of this prisoner monk’s existence. Only Wu Qing came and went, responsible for bringing him meals.
Wu Qing had previously dusted in the scripture pavilion and often read sutras when free. After gradually becoming familiar, he sometimes helped this prisoner monk copy some of the scripture texts he had translated. He discovered that the scriptures translated by this mysteriously originated prisoner monk contained profound dharma principles and beautiful rhetoric—all were things he had never seen or heard before.
Tonight, after three consecutive days and nights of translating, the prisoner monk seemed to have finally completed all his work. He organized the scriptures and, apparently tired, had just fallen asleep not long ago.
He lay on a sleeping mat, facing the wall with his back to the door, lying on his right side with his right arm as a pillow and his left foot resting on his right foot.
Wu Qing naturally knew that for monks at rest, besides meditation, this was a commonly used sleeping posture. It was said to maintain clarity even in dreams—a method of cultivation.
This prisoner monk normally never spoke, as if mute, yet Wu Qing felt genuine admiration for him, feeling he was no ordinary person. Tonight the Prince Consort appeared again, but this time he didn’t come alone—he was accompanied by another person. The lantern’s flame flickered, and Wu Qing initially couldn’t see the visitor’s appearance. He only saw him wearing a cloak with an attached hood covering most of his face. His steps were neither hurried nor slow, landing silently. When he came closer, Wu Qing recognized him as the current Regent Prince, whom he had encountered once by chance in the temple two years ago. He couldn’t help feeling very frightened.
He always felt that something bad was about to befall the prisoner monk inside.
However, this wasn’t his concern. Every drink and bite was predetermined. Everyone had their own destined fate, including that prisoner monk.
He didn’t dare look more, unlocked the courtyard gate, and then withdrew to avoid them.
Shu Shenhui entered and came before the monastery, not immediately going inside.
He stopped, looking through the half-open door toward the world beyond it.
A single lamp, like a bean, illuminated this tidy monastery cell. In the dry area against the wall, neat stacks of scriptures were arranged. Facing the door, on a sleeping mat on the ground, someone was currently sleeping with their back turned outward.
That person wore rough cloth, lying in a lion’s pose, his back peaceful, appearing to sleep deeply.
Two years ago, in that late autumn, he had first heard Wu Sheng’s name from the Virtuous Prince. Last June in Qiantang, it was again because of this person that he and Jiang Hanyuan had parted unhappily. At that time, he had ordered Liu Xiang to have his subordinate Cheng Chong cure the man’s illness. To prevent future accidents, he had also ordered the man brought to Chang’an and imprisoned in the dungeon.
Later, when he had already been separated from her for a long time, he heard the man had fallen ill again. Suddenly remembering the promise he had once made to her, he felt deeply melancholy and, following what he had told her that day, secretly transferred the man here, changing the method of imprisonment.
If nothing unexpected happened, his entire life would pass this way.
After so long, Shu Shenhui had thought of this person named Wu Sheng more than once, but this was the first time he finally came here to meet him personally.
He stood quietly outside the cell door for a moment, seeing that person’s back move slightly as he awakened. Then he slowly sat up and turned around.
The dim lamplight reflected a thin face bearing traces of fatigue, but even so, confined in a prison cell, his eyes held bright light.
The young monk before him was Wu Sheng. Shu Shenhui had once mistakenly thought he was her beloved, later learning he was her close friend—the kind of close friend for whom, if not for his destined original sin of birth, she would go through fire and water.
Under the gaze of the other person looking at him, Shu Shenhui stepped inside and removed his hood.
“Well, have you decided?” he immediately asked.
Wu Sheng withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, respectfully raised his palms vertically before his chest, and performed a monk’s salute.
“The Prince Consort informed me of the entire situation three days ago. The fault lies with me. This humble monk is a superfluous person who shouldn’t have stolen life in this world. Moreover, now, because of me, many complications have arisen—sins piled upon sins. This humble monk is even more unwilling to implicate the General’s pure reputation because of me.”
“This humble monk will comply with whatever the Regent Prince arranges.”
When he spoke these words, there was no reluctance in his expression. His demeanor was composed, his tone normal.
Shu Shenhui remained expressionless, studying him for a long time.
“Very good. Before you go out, if you have any requests, speak freely—this prince will certainly satisfy them.”
Wu Sheng looked around the prison cell, his gaze finally settling on the scriptures.
“There is indeed one matter I wish to request.”
“In the fourth year of Zhongping, this humble monk returned from the western journey. Until today, after various twists and turns spanning many years, I have finally completed translating all the scriptures brought back that time.”
“This humble monk comes from Jialan Temple in Luoyang. Though Master Dongfa has passed away, there are still fellow disciples in the temple who are waiting for this humble monk’s return. I trouble the Regent Prince to deliver these translated scriptures to Jialan Temple for them in the future.”
Shu Shenhui nodded: “Agreed.”
After saying these two words, without any further delay, he put his hood back on, turned, and walked out.
Wu Sheng watched this figure disappear, then slowly sat cross-legged.
Three days later, a special court assembly was held in Xuanzheng Hall.
That day’s court upheaval had not only shocked people but also changed many things, including modifications to the court assembly system that had been in place since the dynasty’s founding. Only the great assembly held every five days was retained. When the young emperor stopped participating in the great assembly, the Regent Prince directly canceled it as well, having ministers conduct business at Wenlin Pavilion.
It had been a long time since court was held here. Yet today it not only resumed, but the young emperor and Regent Prince were both present, with all princes and ministers in attendance. Even all capital officials below the sixth rank, who previously had no qualification to attend court, were permitted to enter.
Nearly a thousand people filled this great hall. However, before the court assembly began, most had no way of knowing what this special assembly was for. Thinking of how the Regent Prince had unexpectedly killed Gao He with his own hands in this very place, all were terrified.
Fortunately, while waiting before ascending to court, well-informed officials revealed inside information—today’s assembly was related to the so-called Jin prince Huang Furong, who had been stirring up great waves in Youzhou.
It was said that Huang Furong was an impostor forcibly promoted by Chi Shu, while the real Huang Furong—that is, the former Wu Sheng monk from Jialan Temple—after returning from his western journey years ago, had lived in seclusion translating scriptures. Last year, he entered Chang’an and went to Huguo Temple, where he had previously been invited to give dharma talks. In the temple, he continued translating scriptures, and to avoid disturbance, the outside world had no news of him. Now learning he had been impersonated and his reputation damaged, he was determined to step forward to prove his identity.
The impact of this news was unimaginable. After a period of silent, breath-holding waiting, finally, that monk appeared before everyone.
He wore clean monk’s robes, his eyes containing bright light. Under countless gazes from all sides, he entered the great hall, bowed to the young emperor and Regent Prince on their seats, declaring himself to be Jin Prince Huang Furong, also known as Wu Sheng from Jialan Temple.
Wu Sheng appeared composed. After explaining everything, he said: “Though I was born to the Jin imperial house in my early years, I have been a monk for many years now, uninvolved in worldly affairs. But I remain a Han Chinese—I dare not forget the great principles of righteousness. How could I submit and honor an enemy chieftain as supreme? The so-called restoration figure in the northern lands is undoubtedly an impostor. I request Your Majesty proclaim this to the world, lest the northern people continue being deceived by the Di people.”
“On the day Luoyang fell, the Jin Emperor entrusted the imperial seal to me, instructing me to guard it with my life. These years, having taken refuge in the dharma gate, I dared not dispose of this object arbitrarily. Today I present it to Your Majesty. From now on, there is no Jin in the world—all people are unified under Great Wei’s peaceful, prosperous age, benefiting the common people. This would be this humble monk’s fortune, with sins slightly absolved.”
He took out a small square box wrapped in cloth, knelt on both knees, and raised it high above his head with both hands. Palace attendants received it with a tray and swiftly brought it before the young emperor. After the young emperor examined it, he ordered it shown to the Regent Prince. After he looked, he ordered it passed among the hundred officials. Among them was a knowledgeable Grand Astrologer who, after careful examination, exclaimed: “Your Majesty! Regent Prince! This object is certainly the former Jin state seal without doubt!”
All officials knelt in succession, shouting long life to the emperor.