The 3rd year of the Zhenguan reign. The ancient road of Gua and Sha, Fish Spring Relay Station.
“Westward out beyond the Great Wall’s passes and frontiers, men till the fields in yellow desert sands. Han dynasty warriors sing to the barbarian flute — past Dunhuang, not a soul in sight. Honored guests, come listen as I tell this tale of The Dunhuang Transformation.”
Fish Spring Relay Station was the second stop on the road from Guazhou to Dunhuang, its back against the Qilian Mountains and its front facing three hundred li of the Gua-Sha postal road. In the sandy desert lands of Longyou, the terrain made it impossible to maintain the Central Plains’ standard of one relay station every thirty li, so stations were instead built wherever water could be found.
Bitter water flowed down from the mountains and pooled at their foot into a spring. Fish lived in the spring, and so it was called Fish Spring.
The Longyou Road was the Great Tang’s frontier; relay stations and beacon watchtowers were often combined into a single structure, and Fish Spring Relay Station was no exception. The station itself was a square fortress of pounded earth, its tamped-earth walls tremendously thick, the tops of which formed a flat walkway with corner towers at each of the four angles. On the hillside behind the station, two beacon towers rose high, garrisoned by a patrol of thirty soldiers. The beacons were used to guard the frontier — at the first sign of danger, smoke signals would be lit by day and fires by night. Along the three hundred li of the Gua-Sha postal road, eight beacon relay stations stood in succession, and within moments any alert could be transmitted to the prefectural city.
Frontier relay stations differed from those in the Central Plains. Because the territory was vast and hundred of li could pass without a soul in sight, these stations served not only as official government post relays but also as resting and watering points for merchants and travelers. However, travelers were required to present their identification documents and travel permits for verification — anyone whose identity was unclear was immediately arrested and sent to the authorities.
Just outside the gate of Fish Spring Relay Station lay the fish spring itself. Along its banks grew ancient poplar trees and red willows. Beneath the shade of the poplars, a dozen or more wool felt carpets had been spread out. A group of resting merchants and travelers sat on the carpets, eating and drinking while listening to a storyteller chant a transformation text.
The storyteller went by the name Liu Shilao and was about fifty years of age, lean-faced and clear-eyed, with three long wisps of beard, giving him something of the air of a celestial sage. He sat cross-legged on a felt carpet, a drum balanced across his knees, drumming with both hands, swaying his head as he sang. Behind him sat a young woman, eyes downcast, a pipa cradled in her arms. Whenever Liu Shilao reached a critical passage, the woman’s slender fingers would glide and pluck, and a stream of clear, ringing music would rise in response. She was his teaching assistant and also his disciple — Yan Niang.
The tale he told, The Dunhuang Transformation, concerned the Prefect of Dunhuang during the Eastern Jin dynasty who later established his capital there and founded the state of Western Liang — the founding ancestor and King Zhao of Martial Brilliance of Western Liang, Li Gao. Liu Shilao’s stark, resonant voice recounted the old events of Dunhuang from two hundred years past. When the tale grew fierce, the drum thundered; when it turned sorrowful, the pipa wailed. The listeners were utterly entranced.
The transformation text was long. When one section concluded and Liu Shilao paused to drink wine and rest, he asked: “Good guests, do you know — whose Dunhuang is this?”
“Naturally, it belongs to the court!” a scholar answered.
“Quite right,” Liu Shilao said with a smile. “But what is the court? To the prefectures and commanderies, the court is nothing more than a yamen.”
“Could it be the Dunhuang of the foreign peoples?” a merchant asked.
Liu Shilao gave a cold laugh. “This is not the Wude era. The Sogdians of the Nine Surnames of Zhaowu are merchants and nothing more. The Tuyuhun under the Murong clan dare not even look northward. The eastern and western Turks are blocked beyond the desert. What is so remarkable about the foreigners?”
He slapped the drum with a sharp boom. “The true masters of Dunhuang are, naturally, the eight great aristocratic clans!”
Some in the crowd chuckled in understanding; others looked genuinely puzzled. “I have come from Liangzhou,” one person said, “and am heading to Dunhuang on business. I would ask the elder to tell us something of Dunhuang’s prominent families.”
Liu Shilao smiled. “The eight great clans of Dunhuang are the Li, Zhang, Suo, Fan, Linghu, Song, Yin, and Zhai — these eight clans have served as high officials generation after generation since the two Han dynasties, and have continued unbroken in Dunhuang without end. You all know that in the eastern territories, there are the five great aristocratic families — Li, Cui, Lu, Zheng, and Wang — known as the Five-Surname Clans. But the Five-Surname system dates only from Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei, when the great families were evaluated and ranked into four tiers; it has barely been two hundred years. Consider the Zhang clan of Dunhuang: they descend from Zhang Xiang, Inspector-General of the Han dynasty. When Zhang Xiang fell afoul of the powerful minister Huo Guang, the entire family relocated to Dunhuang — and they have been here seven hundred years. The Suo clan descend from Suo Fu, Grand Counselor of Emperor Wu of Han, who was banished to the frontier for speaking blunt counsel — and they have been here seven hundred and forty years. The Fan clan descend from Fan Xiong, Censor-in-Chief under Emperor Cheng of Han, who also fell from favor at court and was sent to Dunhuang — six hundred and fifty years ago. And the Zhai clan’s ancestor was the Han dynasty Chancellor Zhai Fangjin. When Wang Mang usurped the Han throne, the Prefect of Dongjun, Zhai Yi, rose with Linghu Mai — ancestor of the Linghu clan, General Who Establishes Might — to resist Wang Mang. When the two men were defeated and killed, their descendants fled to Dunhuang. That was six hundred and twenty-one years ago…”
At that moment, a young monk who had been watering his horse at the spring led the animal over. He tied the horse to a tree branch, sat down cross-legged in the crowd, and listened with close attention.
Liu Shilao continued, “These eight great clans have held official positions for generations, their intermarriages spanning five hundred years, with their descendants spread across Dunhuang, Guazhou, and all of Longyou. From the prefectural governors and commandery administrators down to the minor yamen clerks — without exception, they are all men of these eight surnames, controlling the livestock herds, farmland, commerce and trade, and all the craft guilds. Two of the clans even established their own kingdoms and produced emperors!”
The young monk interjected, “You speak of the King Zhao of Martial Brilliance of Western Liang, Li Gao — but also of the Founding Ancestor, Zhang Gui, of Former Liang?”
Liu Shilao looked at him in surprise. “The Dharma Master is learned!”
The young monk reflected quietly. “The Great Tang imperial house traces its lineage back to Li Hu, one of the Eight Pillars of the Western Wei, who was posthumously honored with the temple name of Grand Progenitor and the title of Brilliant Emperor. And Li Hu himself claimed descent as the sixth-generation grandson of the King Zhao of Martial Brilliance of Western Liang, Li Gao. Does this not mean that the Dunhuang Li clan is also a branch of the Tang imperial family?”
Liu Shilao slapped his drum in excitement. “Precisely so! I have lived in Dunhuang for many years, traveling about Guazhou and the various parts of Western Shazhou to perform my tales. This time, I am returning to Dunhuang because the Li clan is building a shrine to the King Zhao of Martial Brilliance — and I have been invited to perform a few days of storytelling!”
A murmur of admiration and wonder rose from the merchants in the crowd.
“Which one of you monks is Xuanzang?”
While everyone was talking, the station master suddenly came striding over with several station workers, an official document in hand.
The young monk was silent for a moment, then smiled wryly. “This poor monk is the one.”
“So it really is you!”
The station master was delighted. “Men — seize him!”
The station workers swarmed forward and bound Xuanzang tightly with rope. The onlookers began to cry out in alarm. The station master cast a stern gaze over them all, then unrolled the document and read aloud: “There is a certain monk, Xuanzang, who intends to violate the frontier prohibition and secretly cross beyond the border into foreign lands. All prefectures and counties along the way are to conduct thorough searches, apprehend him, and deliver him to the authorities. Signed: Li Daoliang, Military Governor of Liangzhou.“
It turned out that after returning from Huoyi in Shanxi to Chang’an, Xuanzang had resolved to make the westward pilgrimage. He petitioned Emperor Li Shimin again and again, requesting permission to leave the passes, but Li Shimin would not even receive him, and simply ordered the relevant officials to reject his appeals.
With no other recourse, Xuanzang quietly left Chang’an and set out for the Western Regions. But upon reaching Liangzhou, certain people who had long heard of Xuanzang’s reputation invited him to give lectures on the Prajnaparamita Sutra, and Xuanzang had little choice but to open a teaching session there, which ran for a month and caused a great stir throughout Liangzhou. At that point, someone learned of Xuanzang’s intention to make the western pilgrimage and reported it in secret to the Military Governor of Liangzhou, Li Daoliang. The court had by then decided to launch a campaign against the Eastern Turks, and to prevent intelligence from leaking out, had issued a frontier prohibition forbidding anyone from crossing the passes without authorization. Li Daoliang was alarmed — a renowned monk such as Xuanzang, if he fell into the hands of the Turks, could lead to catastrophe — and immediately issued a strict order for Xuanzang to return to Chang’an.
Xuanzang was unwilling to give up. Under the protection of Liangzhou’s Buddhist community, he slipped away from the city in the dead of night. Li Daoliang was furious. He sent men to pursue and capture him, and also dispatched official documents to all the counties along the route. For the fifteen hundred or more li from Liangzhou to Guazhou, Xuanzang traveled by day in hiding and by night on the move, playing a cat-and-mouse game with Li Daoliang, slipping through the Liangzhou passes and making his way in secret to Guazhou.
Xuanzang received a warm welcome from Guazhou’s Prefect Dugu Da, who provided him with generous hospitality. But Xuanzang’s reputation was too great, and Dugu Da did not dare violate the prohibition and let him cross the border. After only a few days, Li Daoliang — having failed to catch Xuanzang — actually sent his official document to Guazhou as well. Dugu Da was now in a difficult position. He quietly instructed his trusted official Li Chang to find Xuanzang, let him read the document, and then tear it up in front of him. Xuanzang understood that the Guazhou authorities could no longer openly shield him, and asked Li Chang for advice on how to cross the border.
Li Chang told him that crossing the border from Guazhou was extremely perilous — not only would he have to ford the swift, wide Shule River, he would also have to slip past five beacon watchtowers, and then traverse eight hundred li of the Mohe Yan Desert. It was a nine-deaths-one-survival gamble.
Li Chang recommended he travel to Dunhuang, the seat of Western Shazhou Prefecture. From Dunhuang there was an ancient road called the Spear-Shaft Road that led directly west to the kingdom of Yiwu in the Western Regions. Li Daoliang would presumably not send his document all the way to Western Shazhou, and Xuanzang could thus avoid arrest by the authorities.
As Li Chang outlined this plan, Xuanzang suddenly recalled something: he had a good friend who was currently serving as an official in Dunhuang, and might perhaps be able to offer some assistance. Xuanzang immediately left Guazhou and followed the Gua-Sha postal road toward Dunhuang — only to find, here at Fish Spring Relay Station, the last stop within Guazhou’s jurisdiction, that Li Daoliang’s document had still managed to catch up with him.
The station master had just finished binding Xuanzang and was about to lead him away, when the merchants and travelers around them crowded in, one by one bowing in reverence toward Xuanzang. The storyteller Liu Shilao leaped to his feet, overcome with joy and astonishment: “So you are none other than the Dharma Master Xuanzang himself! I heard of your great name when I was in Liangzhou, yet who could have thought we would meet in this place!”
The merchants all chimed in: “Quite so! Station Master Lu, the document said that Dharma Master Xuanzang intended to slip across the border — well, he hasn’t crossed it, has he? Perhaps the venerable master was only on his way to pay his respects at the Mogao Caves!”
The station master flew into a rage. “What is all this noise? This is an order from Military Governor Li Daoliang of Liangzhou — who dares disobey?”
Everyone fell silent at once.
Just then, a cold laugh rang out from the gate of Fish Spring Relay Station: “Li Daoliang actually dares to meddle in my Gua-Sha-Su Three Prefectures — what splendid authority he thinks he has!”
Everyone was startled. They turned to look — and saw that before the gate of Fish Spring Relay Station, a mounted column had appeared, led by a military officer, numbering over a hundred men. Every man was fully armored and carried a straight sword, with bows and arrows across their backs. It was a crack military unit.
Several fine horses at the front carried men in everyday civilian dress. The foremost man appeared to be in his forties, wearing a round-collared robe with wide sleeves and broad lapels, made of purple silk woven with a large floral pattern. From his waist hung a jade belt hook. This was unmistakably the dress of a court official of the third rank or above. And the young man of about twenty beside him — his garments were also purple silk with a large pattern, also with a jade belt hook.
The crowd stared blankly for a time before noticing the banner the column was flying. Embroidered upon it were the words: Left Guard General of the Imperial Army; Supervisor of Military Affairs for the Three Prefectures of Gua, Sha, and Su; Prince of Linjiang Commandery.
The station master instantly understood. He threw himself to the ground in terror. “This lowly official pays his respects to the Great Prince!”
Everyone in the station hurried to kneel as well.
For this was none other than the Military Governor of Guazhou, Prince Li Yan of Linjiang Commandery!
Li Yan was a nephew of the Retired Emperor Li Yuan, and a cousin of Emperor Li Shimin. In the first year of Zhenguan, he had taken up his post as Military Governor of Guazhou, assuming overall command of military affairs in Guazhou, Western Shazhou, and Suzhou, responsible for defending the Great Tang’s western frontier. His command headquarters was in Guazhou, so every spring and autumn he made the rounds of the Western Shazhou and Suzhou prefectures under his jurisdiction, inspecting the military readiness of their various prefectures, garrisons, and defense posts — and on this occasion, he and Xuanzang had arrived at Fish Spring Relay Station one after the other.
The heir apparent, Li Chan, dismounted and helped his father down from the horse.
Li Yan came before the station master with a grave expression, snatched the document from his hands, glanced at it, and tore it into tiny pieces. The station master shook all over but did not dare to speak.
“Are you Dharma Master Xuanzang?”
Li Yan smiled and clasped his hands in greeting toward Xuanzang. “Last month when I was making my rounds in Suzhou, I heard that Li Daoliang was pursuing you. Later, when I learned you had gone to Guazhou, I left Suzhou in haste, hoping to pay my respects to you there. I asked Dugu Da, and he told me you had gone to Dunhuang — so I pressed on as quickly as I could, and thankfully have not missed you again!”
Xuanzang smiled ruefully. “This poor monk acts out of necessity — I ask the Great Prince’s forgiveness.”
“What wrong have you committed?”
Li Yan said loudly. “If they were worried about you crossing the border, they should have persuaded you with gentle words and treated you with generous hospitality. Li Daoliang — dispatching cavalry to pursue you, sending out official documents to have you arrested — it is simply outrageous!”
Beside him, the heir apparent Li Chan drew his straight sword from its scabbard and cut through the ropes, then interjected: “Dharma Master, you are His Majesty’s close acquaintance — you just rescued His Majesty at Huoyi, and are a benefactor of our Li family. How could you be treated in such a manner? Father, you must submit a memorial impeaching that Li Daoliang!”
“Of course I shall impeach him.”
Li Yan laughed. “But that must wait until the Dharma Master has left the border — otherwise, if His Majesty learns the Dharma Master is with me, would he not compel me to send you back to Chang’an?”
Xuanzang was both startled and delighted. “The Great Prince is willing to help this poor monk travel to Yiwu?”
Li Yan grew immediately awkward. “Well… Dharma Master, I will not conceal the truth from you. Li Daoliang dares to act as he has because he is probably reading His Majesty’s intentions — His Majesty is worried about your safety and will certainly not consent to you making this westward pilgrimage. If he learns I sent you off, that would be… difficult to account for.”
“This poor monk understands. I will certainly not implicate the Great Prince.”
Xuanzang smiled wryly.
Li Yan waved his hand, gestured for everyone kneeling to rise. The station master immediately set his men to work tidying the station, sweeping out the rooms, and arranging watering and feed for the soldiers’ horses. The kitchen also fell into a flurry of activity, preparing food and drink.
The station’s guest quarters were very simple, but Li Yan had passed through many times and was unbothered. He invited Xuanzang to sit with him in his room for a chat; Li Chan personally attended on the side. In the center of the room stood a square platform bed, about one chi high, without railings or corner posts, and spread with a bamboo mat — quite spartan. The station master personally brought some fruit and grape wine; Li Chan, being attentive by nature, knew that monks from the interior did not drink wine, and specifically asked someone to bring a jug of grape juice instead.
“In the seventh month eat melons, in the eighth month cut calabashes.”
Li Yan smiled. “This place of Guazhou has no other virtues, only that its honeydew melons are exceptionally fragrant — it was for that very thing that it came to be called Guazhou, ‘Melon Prefecture.'”
Though Li Yan’s speech was refined, his manner was forthright and unrestrained, with no care for appearances. He grabbed a melon and bit in, and ate so enthusiastically that juice ran down his chin. He ate two pieces before he was satisfied.
“Father,” Li Chan said, looking a bit uncomfortable, “the Dharma Master is here!”
Li Yan came to himself with a start. “Oh! Ah, Chan-er reminds me rightly — I quite forgot to offer the Dharma Master some. Come, eat, eat, eat!”
Li Chan was at his wit’s end, and cast a helpless glance at Xuanzang. Xuanzang smiled and grabbed a piece of honeydew melon himself. “This poor monk is also fond of honeydew melon. During my stay in Guazhou these past few days, watching so many people eat melon, I have actually come to some conclusions about the proper way to eat it.”
“Oh? Do tell,” Li Yan said with interest.
Xuanzang’s expression was solemn. “Take great bites. Let your lips smack. Chew it with all the flesh still on. Do not wipe your mouth.”
Li Yan and Li Chan stared at each other blankly — then burst into laughter. “Dharma Master, that is truly… the great truth in its most essential simplicity, enough to shake anyone from their ignorance.”
When the laughter subsided, Li Yan said with feeling, “In truth, I know perfectly well what Chan-er means — nothing more than the idea that a prince of the realm ought not to have such undignified table manners.”
“Your son would never dare,” Li Chan said with an apologetic smile.
Li Yan gave a quiet hmm. “Dharma Master, do you know what is different about how my Great Tang came to rule the realm, compared with dynasties past?”
“It was far more arduous,” Xuanzang said.
“That is the polite answer.”
Li Yan smiled. “Compared with the founding emperors of the two Han dynasties — Gaozu and Guangwu — our Great Tang came to power with considerably less difficulty. But here is one thing that was different: the Western Han fell to the usurpation of a powerful minister; the Eastern Han collapsed into the chaos of the warlords; the Western Jin perished in the rebellion of the eight princes; the Northern Wei was split by powerful ministers; the Northern Zhou fell to the usurpation of a powerful minister — only the Sui dynasty perished at the hands of the common people rising in rebellion!”
“That is indeed so,” Xuanzang agreed, nodding slowly.
“I followed the Retired Emperor from Taiyuan when he raised his banner. In the fourth year of Wude, I fought alongside the Prince of Jian against Xiao Xian, and then followed the Crown Prince — the Concealed Prince — to pacify Liu Heita’s rebellion in Hebei.”
Li Yan recalled those distant events. “Hebei — pacified, then uprising again, and again after that. Wave after wave of rebel commoners fought under Liu Heita’s banner, singing: Hair like chives — cut and it grows back; neck like a chicken — sever it and it still crows; officials need not be feared; the common people are never to be taken lightly. One after another they fought without fear of death, falling forward and pressing on. Those same rebel commoners defeated Prince Huai’an Li Shentong, the Youzhou Commander-General Luo Yi, killed Li Xuantong, defeated Li Ji, captured Xue Wanjun and Xue Wanche alive, and slew Luo Shixin and Li Daoxuan. Li Yuanji fled in terror at the very sound of their name — only when His Majesty and the Concealed Crown Prince launched two personal campaigns was the rebellion finally suppressed. I will not conceal it from you, Dharma Master: at the time, I too was routed by Liu Heita, and fled abandoning my city. I reflected deeply on that defeat, and from that day forward understood: after the Sui dynasty, this realm no longer belongs solely to the aristocratic clans and the noble and powerful.”
Xuanzang suddenly recalled that in the seventh year of Wude, there had been a close companion who had occupied the Great Xingshan Temple, challenging all the world’s debaters — Lv Sheng, born of humble origins, disdaining imperial power and the nobility, unwilling to trust even the imperial examinations, attempting to sweep the top positions across all six examination subjects to test the sincerity of the Great Tang’s commitment to transformation.
Xuanzang said quietly, “The vast floods surged and divided the land; overwhelming, they submerged the mountains and flooded the highlands; boundless, they reached even to the sky. It was precisely because the ancient sage-kings Yao and Shun recognized the power of the people that they dared not abuse them, and instead worked to harmonize all the states.”
“Yes, exactly!”
Li Yan said. “And so from that time forward, in the army I ate and lived alongside the common soldiers, eating meat freely and drinking wine by the bowl, using rough common speech without any concern for this so-called status as a prince of the realm. Since I have been sent by His Majesty to this sandy, yellow land of Longyou, then I am a man of Longyou, a man of Guazhou — eating honeydew melon, drinking sheep’s milk, living in mud-brick walls. That is the only way I feel settled in my heart.”
Li Chan suddenly bowed respectfully to his father. “Father, it is I who was narrow in my understanding. Thank you for this teaching.”
Li Yan shook his head. “I have nothing to teach you. You have never lived through it, so you do not know the terror of the great collapse at the end of the Sui. I only hope my descendants will hold the common people in reverence, and not press down so hard that the volcano erupts. Otherwise, when the dynasty changes, they could dig up even your old grandfather’s grave.”
Xuanzang laughed. “Great Prince, those are strong words. Our Great Tang is newly flourishing, and His Majesty is an enlightened ruler of his era — having himself lived through the chaos of the end of the Sui, he would certainly never take the people’s strength lightly.”
“That is true of him. As for His Majesty—”
Li Yan sighed. “Dharma Master, I would like to ask you — what exactly happened between you and His Majesty in Huoyi County back in the sixth month of this year?”
Xuanzang gave a general account of the events at Huoyi County. He glossed over the true or false nature of Ni Li Prison, and said absolutely nothing of the court officials such as Pei Ji who were implicated, speaking only of Cui Jue and Fa Ya’s treasonous plot.
Li Yan stared at him intently. “Dharma Master — did His Majesty truly have no intention of killing the Chief Counselor Pei at that time?”
Xuanzang saw the anxiety in Li Yan’s expression and felt a sudden shock of apprehension in his chest. He quickly replied, “His Majesty did not speak to me about Counselor Pei at all.”
“I understand.”
Li Yan’s enthusiasm suddenly drained away. But knowing that Xuanzang would absolutely not venture to guess at the Emperor’s thoughts, he let the matter drop.
The two chatted for a while longer, then Xuanzang took his leave. Li Yan ordered Li Chan to personally accompany Xuanzang and arrange his meals and lodging.
That night, Xuanzang rested at Fish Spring Relay Station.
The vast desert. The bright moon. The sandy wastes. The ancient fortress. Beacon towers lit on the Qilian peaks above; in the mountain spring below, moonlight danced on the water. Xuanzang sat at the edge of Fish Spring, gazing at the spring water in the desert and the starlight within the spring, the flickering light seeming to blur the boundary between the cosmos and the earth.
“Dharma Master,” Li Chan came out of the guesthouse and sat down beside Xuanzang. “Dharma Master, might I accompany you and study Buddhism?”
Xuanzang was taken aback. “You wish to become a monk?”
Li Chan looked embarrassed. “To become a monk… Father would certainly not allow that. But I have heard that you intend to leave the passes and travel west. I thought that if I could accompany you on part of the westward journey, and go to India, perhaps Father would agree.”
“If it comes down to a choice between that and the western journey, I fear Father would sooner agree to you becoming a monk.”
Xuanzang laughed.
“Why?” Li Chan was puzzled.
“Because the western journey is a nine-deaths-one-survival gamble, while entering monastic life carries no such mortal risk.”
Li Chan was stunned. He scratched his head. “Is it truly that dangerous?”
“It is!”
Xuanzang gazed toward the direction from which the bright moon was rising. “Since ancient times, the number of monks who have attempted the western pilgrimage is beyond reckoning. Yet in the end, we know of only Fa Xian — because all the others died along the road.”
Li Chan was also shaken, and said nothing for a long time.
“Heir Apparent, why do you wish to study Buddhism?”
Xuanzang asked.
Li Chan’s expression turned bitter. “Dharma Master, do you know why Father came to serve as Military Governor of Guazhou?”
Xuanzang considered. “For members of the Tang imperial house to hold the title of military governor of a local prefecture is customary enough. Guazhou is a key fortress on the western frontier, situated at the intersection where the eastern and western Turks meet the Great Tang’s territory — His Majesty must have wanted princes of the imperial house to hold it.”
“That is not wrong. But unfortunately, serving as Military Governor of Guazhou is not a mark of His Majesty’s trust in my father — it is banishment.”
Li Chan said with a bitter smile.
Xuanzang was somewhat surprised.
“Father is more than ten years older than His Majesty,” Li Chan said. “From a young age he was close to the Concealed Crown Prince, Li Jiancheng. Including the previous Military Governor of Liangzhou, Prince Li Youliang of Changle, and the Military Governor of Youzhou, Prince Li Yuan of Lujiang — His Majesty regarded them all as belonging to the Concealed Crown Prince’s faction. After the Xuanwu Gate Incident, Li Yuan plotted rebellion and was executed; Li Youliang was given a white silk rope in prison. Father, though banished to this remote place, at least kept his life. But Father is uneasy day and night. Every time a letter arrives from Chang’an, before he opens it his fingers tremble, as if a sword hangs over his head from the sky above Chang’an. As his son, I feel the pain of it on his behalf, while also finding the world’s affairs absurd. In an ordinary family, the same clan, cousins and brothers — what closeness there would be. But in the imperial house, a brother is the person you fear most. Dharma Master, can Buddhism offer me liberation?”
Xuanzang had no answer.
The very next morning, Li Yan invited Xuanzang to set out with him for Dunhuang. The storyteller Liu Shilao and a number of merchants also quietly joined the departure. The Gua-Sha region was not only subject to frequent raids by desert bandits, but also to Tuyuhun raiding parties crossing the Qilian Mountains from the southeast — traveling with a military escort was naturally the safest course. Over a hundred merchants and servants, pressing dozens of large carts, formed a magnificent column that set off toward the southwest.
The Gua-Sha postal road ran along the foothills of the major and minor mountain ranges on the western slopes of the Qilian Mountains. The sandy road was rough and treacherous, but fortunately water sources were plentiful. After two more days of travel, the party emerged from the brown-yellow wastes of the desert and into an oasis lush with trees. Outside Dunhuang city, a great river flowed out of the eastern Qilian Mountains and swept off to the northeast. Over hundreds of years, the people of Dunhuang had dug countless channels throughout the oasis, diverting the river water to irrigate this green land.
On both sides of the road, elm trees, poplar trees, and willows stretched out in endless succession, green shade spreading underfoot. Channel water flowed quietly, clear and sweet — to travelers long confined to the desert, the joy, gratitude, and awe of it was nearly enough to make one kneel down and press one’s lips to the fragrant earth.
Along the road were stretches of farmland, gardens, and vineyards. Many farmers were at work in the fields; now and then a shepherd’s song floated up, piercing through the canopy of leaves. Between the road and the gardens, a fortified compound would appear from time to time — pounded earth and timber, tall and solid, like a small city — and that was the village where the local people lived in community.
Li Yan, Li Chan, and Xuanzang rode on horseback, at the head of the column. Li Chan pointed out sights along the way: “Since Emperor Wu of Han opened these frontiers, Dunhuang has been the key lock and bolt of successive Central Plains dynasties — a paradise granted by Heaven. This vast oasis, stretching hundreds of li in every direction, is flanked on the east by the precipitous Qilian Mountains; on the remaining three sides are thousands of li of trackless Gobi desert. And yet in that great desert, there happen to be several passable routes that connect to the various kingdoms of the Western Regions.
“To the east, it connects with Guazhou and Longyou — that goes without saying. To the west, one can travel through the Han dynasty Jade Gate Pass or Yang Pass to reach Shanshan and Khotan; or take the Great Desert Road through the Han Jade Gate Pass and the ruins of Loulan to arrive at Yanqi. To the north, taking the Spear-Shaft Road, one can reach Yiwu and Gaochang. To the south, following the Southern Mountain Road, one can reach Tuyuhun.
“Now that our Great Tang’s power grows daily, the Silk Road is becoming ever more prosperous. Dunhuang, as a place with roads reaching in all four directions, sees an unbroken flow of merchants from China and the Western Regions. The rare and exotic wonders of East and West converge in this one city. When the Dharma Master arrives in the city, you will see for yourself.”
Xuanzang said with amazement, “The Heir Apparent is well-informed!”
Li Yan laughed. “Chan-er has been living with me in Guazhou for several years. He doesn’t like staying in the Military Governor’s compound — he prefers to roam about freely. Dharma Master, you may ask him freely about the westward routes.”
Xuanzang pressed his palms together in gratitude.
Chatting as they went, the party crossed one water channel and wooden bridge after another, and arrived at the last relay station on the Gua-Sha postal road, the Prefecture City Relay Station.
The Prefecture City Relay Station was five li from Dunhuang, separated from the city walls by a stretch of Sweet Spring water. The officials of Dunhuang made their formal farewells and received their official visitors at this station; families bade their loved ones farewell here as well.
Before Li Yan’s carriage even reached the Prefecture City Relay Station, the Prefect of Western Shazhou, Wang Junke, had already led the Chief Secretary, Assistant Prefect, Record-Keeping Adjutant, and County Magistrate of the prefectural yamen, along with the respected elders of the city’s great clans, to line the road in welcome. Wang Junke had even mobilized troops — a garrison force of five hundred men under the command of several military officers, establishing a strict cordon around the perimeter. The atmosphere was heavy with tension.
Li Yan sensed something amiss but did not let it show. With a smile, he completed the appropriate ceremonies with the welcoming officials and elders, and was ushered into the relay station by the assembled party to fulfill the customary formalities of official reception.
Li Chan had no appetite for this sort of occasion and slipped away early to accompany Xuanzang inside. The two bathed and changed their garments, washing off the road’s sand and sweat, and had just settled back in the inner hall when the sound of footsteps approached from outside. Li Yan came in with Wang Junke. Xuanzang quickly rose and pressed his palms together.
“This Dharma Master is—” Wang Junke looked somewhat puzzled.
Li Yan made the introduction. “This is the Dharma Master Xuanzang from Chang’an. This Prince had the good fortune to encounter the Dharma Master at Fish Spring Relay Station, and so we have come to Dunhuang together.”
“Dharma Master Xuanzang?”
Wang Junke was startled, and hesitated. “Would this be the same one who, in the sixth month… together with His Majesty…”
Li Yan smiled and cut him off. “The very same Dharma Master!”
Wang Junke immediately bowed deeply. “This official has long heard of the Dharma Master’s great name and has admired you immensely. To think we should meet in Dunhuang — truly a privilege beyond my wildest hope!”
Xuanzang studied Wang Junke carefully in return.
Wang Junke appeared to be about forty, with a powerfully built frame but a rather lean, angular face. His eyes blazed with sharp light, giving him an air of great keenness.
Xuanzang pressed his palms together. “This poor monk has long heard of the great blade hero of Waggang Stronghold, Wang Junke — thirteen men who routed an enemy force of ten thousand. As a historical example of overcoming superior numbers with a small force, Prefect Wang stands truly without precedent.”
These words filled Wang Junke with delight. He held back a pleased smile.
Wang Junke was a fierce general of Waggang Stronghold from the turbulent end of the Sui dynasty, famed across Waggang for wielding a polearm dozens of jin in weight. He had been a sworn brother through life and death with men such as Qin Shubao, Dan Xiongxin, Cheng Yaojin, and Li Ji. After Li Mi’s defeat, Wang Junke followed Qin Shubao, Cheng Yaojin, and others in submitting to Wang Shichong.
But Wang Shichong was partial to his own kin and did not trust them. Taking advantage of a moment when Li Shimin’s and Wang Shichong’s armies stood in opposition on the battlefield, Qin Shubao did something audacious that shook all who witnessed it: together with Cheng Yaojin, Wang Junke, Niu Jinda, and dozens of others, they rode out of Wang Shichong’s battle lines and halted in the open ground between the two armies. Every man dismounted and knelt toward Wang Shichong.
Qin Shubao said, “Though we have received your shelter, we cannot render you any service. We ask your permission to take our leave!”
Then they all treated the ten thousand soldiers around them as if they were nothing, calmly mounted their horses, and rode toward Li Shimin’s formation. Wang Shichong gnashed his teeth in fury but did not dare to stop them.
After Wang Junke came over to the Great Tang, he followed Li Shimin in crushing Wang Shichong. In the battle at Yanshi, Wang Junke first feigned defeat, then sprang an ambush, personally leading thirteen men to break into the enemy commander’s central formation, killing the general and seizing the banner, routing over ten thousand of Zheng’s troops. Afterward, Emperor Li Yuan personally issued an edict commending Wang Junke in high praise: With thirteen men, you broke an enemy of ten thousand. To overcome such a host with so few — such a thing has never before been heard of.
Wang Junke’s expression grew wistful. “Now that I have been stationed in this sandy Longyou wasteland for three years, when I think back to those days of spear and warhorse, they seem like a dream.”
The group smiled and settled onto the bed platforms. Wang Junke ordered refreshments of fruit and wine to be served, then dismissed everyone else.
Xuanzang, seeing that the two men appeared to have matters to discuss, rose to take his leave. Li Yan waved for him to stay. “It is of no consequence — this is nothing official.”
Xuanzang sat back down.
Li Yan drank a cup of grape wine and frowned. “Junke, I am only here on my routine autumn inspection of the prefectures. Why have you mobilized the prefecture’s garrison troops? This really makes things too conspicuous. Just now I saw that the officer commanding the troops is the Commander of Western Gate Garrison, Linghu Zhan — it seems as though the entire Western Gate Garrison has come out in full force.”
Wang Junke smiled. “Not only that. I also called up two hundred men from the Ziting Defense Post. The Defense Post Commander Zhai Shu is leading his troops on the outer perimeter.”
Li Yan stared at him without a word.
Wang Junke smiled ruefully. “This official knows it is conspicuous. But I truly have no other choice. Because recently, Dunhuang city has been… unsettled.”
“Unsettled?”
Li Chan was surprised. “With you holding the city, what ruffian would dare stir up trouble? Surely it is not a warning from the Tuyuhun or the Turks? We saw no beacon fires along the road!”
“Of course it is not the Tuyuhun or the Turks invading — that I would not worry about.”
Wang Junke sighed. “In Dunhuang city, the Heavenly Wolf has been killing people!”
Everyone fell silent.
Xuanzang was puzzled. “What do you mean by the Heavenly Wolf killing people?”
“Dharma Master, you may not know of this.”
Wang Junke explained patiently. “In the ninth year of Wude, when I had not yet arrived to take up my post, a demon creature appeared in Dunhuang — in the shape of a wolf. It devoured dozens of people and bathed Sweet Spring Avenue in blood. The Prefect and county yamen at the time sent men to hunt it down, and it devoured several of those as well. When troops were finally deployed, the wolf-demon escaped into the desert.”
“Ah, I know of this!”
Li Chan became animated and cut in eagerly. “In the first year of Zhenguan, when Father and I had just arrived in Guazhou, I heard about it — the demon wolf had taken up residence in the abandoned Han dynasty Jade Gate Pass out in the desert, and proclaimed itself Kui Mulang, claiming to be the Star of the Stride Mansion descended to the mortal world!”
“Kui Mulang?”
Xuanzang said with surprise. “That is a strange name. The Stride Mansion is the first of the seven Western White Tiger mansions among the twenty-eight lunar mansions. Yet how does it come to be associated with ‘Timber’ and ‘Wolf’?”
“That I do not know,” Li Chan said. “That creature possessed some strange and uncanny arts and magic. Gradually, some credulous Han and foreign people were bewitched and went off to join it. Within two or three years it had somehow assembled several hundred followers, and frequently harassed the Silk Road, plundering merchant caravans. I remember the Military Governor’s compound even sent an official document to Dunhuang ordering it to be eradicated.”
“Yes, yes,” Wang Junke said with some embarrassment. “This official received the Governor’s document and launched several suppression campaigns, but the desert terrain is treacherous — too few troops accomplished nothing, too many troops and it fled deeper into the Devil’s City to the west. Every expedition was a wasted effort with nothing to show for it.”
“So then…”
Li Yan said thoughtfully. “This Heavenly Wolf has now come to Dunhuang city to run amok?”
“Yes!”
Wang Junke furrowed his brow. “Half a month ago it appeared within the city, swallowed and killed several people. This official sent men to surround and capture it, but Kui Mulang’s abilities are strange and uncanny — it simply cannot be caught. The yamen’s constables were powerless, so this official had Commander Linghu Zhan’s Western Gate Garrison take over the city’s patrol and security duties. Since you have come this time, this official was concerned that Kui Mulang might mean you harm, so I also called up Defense Post Commander Zhai Shu’s Ziting Defense Post.”
Li Yan now understood. He knew full well that the court was suspicious of him, and in Guazhou he kept himself deliberately inconspicuous and low-key, never drawing attention. Today, seeing Wang Junke put on such a show of force, he had been deeply uneasy and called him in to ask about it. But given the situation, one could hardly say Wang Junke had done wrong — and surely the Emperor’s informants in the prefecture would not submit a report impeaching him over this — and so he settled his mind.
The group talked for a while longer. Xuanzang then took his leave of the two men. He wanted to make inquiries about smuggling himself across the border, and naturally it was inconvenient to remain constantly at Li Yan’s side. Better to take this opportunity to slip away, where his movements would be more free.
Li Yan guessed his intentions and did not try to stop him, personally seeing Xuanzang to the door of the relay station.
Li Chan saw Xuanzang leading a thin horse, alone and free, and could not help but feel a pang of envy. “Father, I would like to follow the Dharma Master for a while — would that be all right?”
“Chan-er…”
Li Yan looked at his son with a complicated expression. “Following me here to Guazhou for three years — you have truly suffered. The Dharma Master is broad-minded and perceptive, and following him will do you good. Only — he means to journey west to India, and you absolutely must not go along.”
Li Chan was overjoyed. “Your son understands!”
He quickly took hold of a horse and set off after Xuanzang, like a bird set free to fly.
“I had long heard of this monk, and meeting him today truly exceeds his reputation.”
Wang Junke said with feeling.
“Only a monk like that could win such favor from His Majesty.”
Li Yan smiled.
“Word has come from the capital — Counselor Pei had his household confiscated and has been exiled to Jingzhou.”
Wang Junke gazed steadily at Xuanzang’s retreating figure and said it quietly, without inflection.
Li Yan snapped his head around to stare at him. “When did this happen?”
“An urgent dispatch arrived from the capital yesterday — the matter occurred in mid-seventh month.”
Wang Junke sighed. “Counselor Pei struggled to hold his ground and could not escape this end after all. Of the eminent statesmen of the Wude era, only Xiao Yu remains in the central government — though even he is now being dismissed from the chancellorship for the third time.”
Li Yan’s face went pale as iron, and he said nothing.
Li Yan had been of the Crown Prince Jiancheng’s faction. During the Wude era, Pei Ji had wielded enormous power and enjoyed the Emperor Li Yuan’s extraordinary favor. Li Yan had been on good terms with Pei Ji, and it was he who had secretly brokered the connection between the Crown Prince and Pei Ji, so that Pei Ji had offered Li Jiancheng much support and protection. After the Xuanwu Gate Incident, with Prince Li Yuan of Lujiang and Prince Li Youliang of Changle both killed, it was largely thanks to Pei Ji that Li Yan had been merely banished to Guazhou — getting himself out of the political maelstrom at court.
But now, Pei Ji too had fallen.
Wang Junke seemed to be speaking to himself. “Since the third year of Zhenguan, Longyou has been utterly transformed. His Majesty ordered Li Daoliang to serve as Military Governor of Liangzhou, replacing Yuwen Shiji; then sent Zhang Bi to serve as Prefect of Ganzhou; then subsequently dispatched Niu Jinda to serve as Prefect of Suzhou. The entire Longyou officialdom has been thoroughly turned over from top to bottom.”
“This is merely to coordinate with the court’s campaign against the Eastern Turks.”
Li Yan was silent for a long while, then said calmly, “In the fourth month, Commandery Governor Zhang Gongjin of Daizhou submitted a memorial arguing that the Eastern Turks could be wiped out, and His Majesty has already indicated his intention to send out troops. Li Daoliang, Zhang Bi, and Niu Jinda are all fierce generals — having them come to Longyou is either to guard against a Turkish incursion on the border, or to send a surprise force from Longyou.”
“The Governor speaks rightly.”
Wang Junke smiled. “Speaking of Zhang Bi and Niu Jinda — both of them are my old Waggang comrades. When I followed Qin Shubao and Cheng Zhijie in breaking from Wang Shichong and submitting to His Majesty, those two were among us.”
“We have known each other for many years, yet I have never heard you speak of those times.”
Li Yan grew curious.
“There were so many heroes in those days — truly, I don’t know where to begin.”
Wang Junke gazed out at the vast desert with boundless feeling. “Speaking of this Zhang Bi, there is an interesting tale involving him and Li Daoliang.”
“Zhang Bi and Li Daoliang?”
Li Yan was surprised. “They knew each other before?”
“They did more than know each other!”
A meaningful expression appeared on Wang Junke’s face. “In those days, Zhang Bi was one of Li Mi’s trusted lieutenants. In the thirteenth year of Daye, Li Daoliang was serving under the Sui general Pang Yu in an attack on Waggang Stronghold; Pang Yu’s forces were defeated, and Li Daoliang was captured as well. For reasons no one can quite explain, the moment Zhang Bi laid eyes on Li Daoliang, he was extraordinarily struck by him. He ordered all the other hundred-some Sui soldiers who had been captured to be executed, but spared Li Daoliang alone.”
Li Yan’s face showed utter disbelief. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“I asked Zhang Bi about it myself at the time.”
Wang Junke said. “Zhang Bi only said that the moment he saw this man, he felt a strong liking for him and could not bring himself to harm him. Afterward, Zhang Bi sheltered Li Daoliang within Waggang Stronghold for six full months, and the two became the closest of friends. Later, when Waggang Stronghold suffered several defeats and the situation grew dire, Zhang Bi secretly released Li Daoliang on his own authority and let him go to submit to the Retired Emperor.”
Li Yan drew a sharp breath. “I am hearing of this for the first time.”
“Later, after Zhang Bi and the rest of us submitted to the current Emperor, we of the Waggang faction were reluctant to associate too closely with one another in private, and he and I gradually drifted apart.”
Wang Junke shook his head repeatedly. “I hear that Li Daoliang and Zhang Bi have few public dealings on the surface — but in private they remain deeply close.”
“That is the most natural thing in the world.”
Li Yan said without much thought. “When all is said and done, Zhang Bi is Li Daoliang’s savior.”
“Indeed!”
Wang Junke said without any particular emphasis, “And so His Majesty has arranged three men with deep ties to Waggang in Longyou. Adding myself, that makes four. It shows how much weight His Majesty places on Longyou.”
In that instant, it struck Li Yan like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, like cold water poured over his head. His whole body trembled. He shot a glance at Wang Junke, and saw that this former hero of Waggang looked perfectly serene, as if merely making idle conversation.
Li Yan closed his eyes. A sudden dizziness swept through him, and before his mind’s eye the map of Longyou appeared: west from the great hub of Liangzhou — Ganzhou, Suzhou, Guazhou, Western Shazhou — and he, the Military Governor of Guazhou, was locked and hemmed in on all sides by three former Waggang generals!