In the seventh month one eats melons, in the eighth month one cuts gourds, in the ninth month one prepares winter clothing.

In early August in Dunhuang, walking beneath the shade of trees already carried a touch of cold, though when the blazing sun was directly overhead, one could still walk until drenched in sweat. Xuanzang led Li Chan wandering among the shops of the West Market, and they had already been searching for half an hour.

The West Market occupied the northwestern corner of Dunhuang City, the section carved off diagonally by the inner city wall. The western and northern sides were both city walls, and within them shops stood in rows — a trading ground where goods from the Central Plains and the Western Regions were bought and sold. Merchants from the Western Regions were the majority, and so the buildings were largely in a Western style. Along both sides of the streets were one- or two-story mud-brick houses with very small windows set very high from the ground. The courtyards before the doorways were large or small, with flagpoles flying the banner of each establishment.

The West Market was exceedingly prosperous, the crowds dense as woven cloth, mules and camels carrying goods coming and going, and large carts loaded with merchandise rumbled past, causing brief moments of congestion.

The two emerged from the crowd of livestock, turned into a more secluded alley, and at the mouth of the alley spotted a narrow little shop front with no courtyard at all. At the door hung a single flag embroidered with the characters “Suo Family Divination Shop.”

“This must be the place.”

Li Chan let out a breath of relief.

Xuanzang pushed open the mottled, ancient jujube-wood door. Inside the thick mud-brick house it was dim and gloomy, and the daylight filtering in through the small window near the ceiling had condensed into a column of light, illuminating a single corner, shining down onto a floor mat in the very center of the room.

An old man sat on the mat, head bowed, arranging several stalks of yarrow. Without raising his head, the old man said: “Have you come for a divination?”

Xuanzang said nothing, taking in the room. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dimness, he could make out ritual implements piled everywhere, and strung along the walls on grass-rope were rows and rows of talismans. Xuanzang walked over and picked one up — it was unmistakably a Six Ding Six Jia talisman.

“So it really is you!”

Xuanzang gave a quiet sigh.

The old man looked up in astonishment, studying the two men carefully, then was silent for a moment. “This morning when I woke, I felt a restlessness of spirit. I cast a hexagram, yet the workings of Heaven were obscured, the reading unclear — and now I see why. It is because of a dharma master.”

“Are you the diviner Suo Yi?”

Xuanzang asked.

Suo Yi waved his hand with a bitter expression. “Indeed I am. I have practiced divination for thirty years, and from peering too often into the mechanisms of Heaven, I have long known that a tribulation is fated for me. It seems it has now arrived in the form of a dharma master.”

“I would not presume such a thing.”

Xuanzang sat cross-legged across from him. “This humble monk has only come to ask about certain matters.”

“The flying bird that loses its moment falls into the cage; though it beats its wings to soar, it cannot rise. Now is the time only to hold to one’s station; vain ambition to climb above one’s place will never succeed.”

Suo Yi gazed at the yarrow in his palm and spoke with feeling: “This is the hexagram I received today — the hexagram of Innocence. Since I cannot escape what is fated, dharma master, ask whatever you wish.”

Li Chan gripped the hilt of the saber at his side and stood guard at the doorway.

Xuanzang smiled. “Yesterday, this humble monk visited the old Lv family residence in Chenghua Ward, and within it discovered a triple formation of arrays — a fusion of shamanic, Daoist, and mechanical arts. Among them, the Daoist formation bore a notable resemblance to the Orthodox Unity method of the Longhu Mountain Celestial Masters. I had heard that the formations were laid by practitioners from the Yin family and the Suo family. The Yin family cultivates the Louguang sect of Daoist arts, while the Suo family cultivates the yin-yang divination passed down from Suo Chen of the Western Jin, using talismans and formations that draw inclusively from many Daoist traditions — rather eclectic. And so I came here to take a look, and indeed the handiwork is entirely consistent with what was found in the old Lv residence.”

Suo Yi was already dumbstruck, and murmured: “So it is this matter! ‘To proceed without purpose — where is one going? Heaven’s mandate does not favor it — should one still act?’ No wonder I drew the hexagram of Innocence!”

Xuanzang said nothing, waiting in silence. The daylight sifting through the small window fell upon both of them, and all around was darkness.

“Dharma master’s deduction is correct. The Daoist formation in the old Lv residence — I laid it.”

Suo Yi admitted this with a bitter smile. “But the details behind it are not something I can easily share with the dharma master. Even in my current fallen circumstances, I cannot bring calamity upon the Suo family.”

“Bring calamity upon the Suo family?”

Xuanzang was startled. “The Suo family is among the established gentry of Dunhuang — who could bring calamity upon it?”

Suo Yi shook his head repeatedly. “Though the Suo family is gentry and once had its glory, times and circumstances have changed, and it has long been in decline. In the eyes of commoners it is still an imposing force, but among the Dunhuang gentry it now ranks at the very bottom.”

Xuanzang frowned in thought for a moment. “This humble monk would never coerce you, and I will set aside the details for now. But can you at least tell me: who was it that commissioned you to lay the formation back then?”

Suo Yi turned the yarrow stalks in his hands, as if waging a battle within himself, then finally said: “Linghu Demao!”

“The head of the Linghu clan?”

Xuanzang was greatly startled. “Why would the Linghu clan do such a thing?”

“Because the Dunhuang Lv family and the Linghu clan are enemies of a hundred years!”

Suo Yi said, one word at a time.

Xuanzang was taken aback. “The Dunhuang Lv family? Is not Adjutant Lv from Bozhou in Shandong?”

“It is not untrue that Adjutant Lv claims Bozhou in Shandong — his ancestral home is Dunhuang, and his family only fled to Bozhou in the early years of the Western Wei.”

Suo Yi explained. “And the reason the Dunhuang Lv family was annihilated to the last person was that they were defeated in a struggle with the Linghu clan.”

Xuanzang was about to ask more when Suo Yi rose to his feet. “Dharma master, I have been invited today to make a trip to the Mogao Caves. If you have leisure, you are welcome to come along, and we can talk slowly on the road.”

“But this humble monk still has things to attend to here, and the Mogao Caves are over fifty li from the city — I fear we would not be able to return tonight.”

Xuanzang considered. “Would it be possible for this humble monk to come visit again tomorrow?”

Suo Yi smiled. “I fear that after this visit, my bones will be buried at the Mogao Caves. You may not find me here tomorrow.”

Xuanzang’s expression changed.

Yet Suo Yi remained composed. “Tonight in the Shengjiao Temple at the Mogao Caves there is also an auction. This auction came from the Western Regions — the goods to be auctioned are displayed before the crowd, people bid in competition, and the highest bidder wins. Those coming to bid are all bringing rare treasures from Great Tang, the Western Regions, and even India, Persia, and Byzantium — seldom seen under ordinary circumstances.”

“This humble monk has no money to speak of.”

Xuanzang said with a rueful smile.

Li Chan interjected: “Master, if you see anything you want, I will pay.”

Xuanzang shook his head. “For one who has left the household life to cultivate the Way, the robe on one’s back and the begging bowl in one’s hand are sufficient.”

“Dharma master,”

Suo Yi said gravely, “tonight’s auction, it is said, will feature a fragment of the Buddha’s relics!”

“What?”

Xuanzang was visibly shaken.

The Buddha’s relics were what had been gathered from the ashes after Shakyamuni entered nirvana and was cremated — including crown bone relics, tooth relics, finger bone relics, and more than eighty thousand relic beads. Wherever the relics reside, so too resides the dharma body. For Buddhists, the Buddha’s relics were the supreme sacred objects.

“How could such a sacred object be put up for auction?”

Xuanzang was astonished.

Suo Yi shook his head repeatedly. “It was brought by a Sogdian merchant from Gandhara. Gandhara lies to the west of India and was once a Buddhist holy land with over a thousand monasteries, but after the Hephthalites destroyed it two hundred years ago, they smashed temples and suppressed Buddhism, and today no one there believes in the faith anymore. The relics venerated in those monasteries and by the faithful have mostly scattered into common hands. Sogdian merchants follow Zoroastrianism; sacred Buddhist objects are to them merely things to profit from. Many merchants comb Gandhara for relics and transport them to our Great Tang to turn a profit. Tonight the temple will be full of high officials and wealthy magnates, great fortunes gathering, and many are coming specifically for this Buddha relic.”

Li Chan suddenly slapped his hands together. “Master! Abbot Zhai Faran is selling off the monastery’s property — it’s because he wants to bid on the Buddha relic!”

Xuanzang silently nodded. No wonder Abbot Zhai Faran had sold off nearly every last asset the monastery owned, even refusing grain, sheep, and wine. It meant the entire monastic community would be tightening their belts. But for a Buddhist monastery, if it could receive and enshrine the Buddha’s relics within a stupa, that would be a foundation lasting a thousand years.

“Not only Zhai Faran — it is said that Linghu Demao will also be there tonight.”

Suo Yi said. “Tonight, dharma master, you are certain to encounter some truths.”

Xuanzang and Li Chan accompanied Suo Yi as he closed up the divination shop. They mounted their horses and rode out through the north gate of the city, heading straight for the Mogao Caves.

The Mogao Caves lay at the foot of the Sanwei Mountains, fifty li to the southeast of Dunhuang City. The three rode out through the north gate, taking the old road by which Xuanzang had arrived, first crossing the wooden bridge over the Ganquan River, passing the Prefectural Post Station, and then following a road through the sandy wastes southward.

The entire way was desolate sandy wasteland, dotted throughout with earthen-mounded tombs.

The people of Dunhuang lived their lives alongside yellow sand and were buried in it when they died.

Along the road, Suo Yi told the story of the century-old enmity between the Lv family and the Linghu clan.

“In the Western Jin period, the Lv family rose through livestock herding. Two hundred years later the family had grown and become a great clan of Dunhuang. But Dunhuang has always been rather unusual — it is far from the wars of the Central Plains, and the successive dynasties rose and fell like a revolving lantern, often unable to extend their rule as far as Dunhuang, and so the gentry families were allowed to grow unchecked. Especially around the time of the Wei and Jin transition, when the Central Plains were thrown into upheaval and the road east was cut off, the Dunhuang Commandery went twenty years without a governor. Powerful clans and great families seized the opportunity to annex land, and common people had nowhere to stand. After the Western Jin fell, this corner of Longright saw small kingdoms springing up everywhere — the Former Liang, the Later Liang, the Western Liang, the Northern Liang — and all of them were founded with the support of the great clans. The Former Liang under the Zhang family, the Western Liang under the Li family — these were all established and backed by the Dunhuang gentry. It was simply that in times of upheaval, the great clans would elevate one family to step forward, build a state, and protect the shared interests of all the great clans. These gentry families controlled Dunhuang’s governance, military, farmland, livestock, money and silk, trade, and guilds of every industry. After seven hundred years of growth and propagation, their clan members and descendants blanketed Dunhuang, their spheres of influence interlocking and divided, and though they competed with one another, they tacitly agreed to suppress the rise of those of humble origin, in order to preserve the undefeated rule of the aristocratic clans for a thousand years.”

Suo Yi narrated in an even tone, but Li Chan listened with curiosity. “You yourself belong to the Suo clan, which is also gentry — yet the way you speak of it, there seems to be quite a bit of resentment in your words.”

“The Suo family is of course gentry, but that does not mean that I, Suo Yi, am gentry.”

Suo Yi said with self-mockery. “A family line stretching nearly a thousand years, with descendants spread throughout Dunhuang — once you are anything but the direct main line, after several hundred years even blood ties grow thin. Look at me now: I run a divination shop, surviving on an ancestral gift for divination. Do I look anything like a great aristocratic family?”

Li Chan was at a loss for words.

“So the Lv family were commoners who rose from humble origins?”

Xuanzang asked.

“Exactly. After the Lv family rose through livestock herding, every further step upward was immensely difficult. One needed ancestors who had served in official positions of the fifth rank or above for three or more generations — at minimum the rank of Commandery Governor — before one could even stand at the threshold of the gentry. The Lv family had produced no officials; how could they possibly stand as equals to the gentry clans on the basis of wealth alone? Under the suppression of those clans, the Lv family grew increasingly straitened. Then, in the final years of the Northern Wei, Lv Xing — the then head of the Lv family — seized what seemed a rare, once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity. At that time, the powerful minister of the Northern Wei, Yuwen Tai, had poisoned Emperor Xiaowu, Yuan Xiu, and installed Yuan Baoju as emperor, establishing the Western Wei. There was great disorder throughout the He River West region. The Governor of Liangzhou, Yuwen Zhonghe, did not recognize Yuwen Tai’s authority and sought to carve out his own independent state. Lv Xing judged that the moment had come: if he could assist Yuwen Zhonghe in founding a new state, the Lv family would be elevated into the gentry in one stroke. Lv Xing and his sworn brother Zhang Bao secretly plotted an uprising to respond to Yuwen Zhonghe. Zhang Bao killed the Governor of Guazhou, Cheng Qing, and occupied Guazhou, while Lv Xing killed the Dunhuang Commandery Governor, Guo Si, and occupied Dunhuang, dreaming of becoming a founding minister in a new dynasty.”

Xuanzang remarked with some feeling: “Is this really the only way for great families to seize what they desire?”

Li Chan laughed. “Master, which aristocratic clan did not establish its position by choosing the right lord in a change of dynasty? Even our Longxi Li family’s ancestor, the Great-Founder August Emperor, followed Yuwen Tai in establishing the Western Wei, received enfeoffment as one of the Eight Pillars, and thus founded the Li clan.”

Only now did Suo Yi realize that the young man before him was a descendant of the imperial house. He dared not comment on this, and quickly pressed on: “Lv Xing thought to rise in one bound by supporting Yuwen Zhonghe, but he found himself instead turned into a stepping stone by another.”

“Are you referring to the Linghu clan?”

Xuanzang asked.

“Exactly. The head of the Linghu clan at that time — Linghu Zheng.”

Suo Yi said.

Xuanzang understood at once. This Linghu Zheng was Linghu Demao’s grandfather; his biography appeared clearly in the Book of Wei. Linghu Zheng’s great-grandfather, grandfather, and father had all served as Commandery Governors — he was truly of a family that had produced distinguished officials for generations. By nature deep and deliberate, skilled in riding and archery, renowned throughout Longright, he had once been summoned by the Eastern Yang Prince and Governor of Guazhou, Yuan Rong, and appointed as Guazhou Chief Secretary and General Who Quells the Bandits.

“Linghu Zheng would never permit Lv Xing to succeed; he even intended to put down the rebellion of Lv Xing and Zhang Bao and use it as his own stepping stone to advancement. So he feigned allegiance to Zhang Bao while secretly plotting against him. He secretly sent a man to persuade Zhang Bao, saying that he and Yuwen Zhonghe were as closely bound as lips and teeth — now that the court’s armies were pressing on Liangzhou, Yuwen Zhonghe likely could not hold out. Better to send crack troops through the night to relieve Liangzhou and combine forces to defeat the court armies. Zhang Bao agreed completely, yet did not know whom to send. Linghu Zheng then sent another man to advise Zhang Bao that Linghu Zheng was capable in both civil and military matters, most suited to command the troops in the field, and that since his parents and family were within the city, he would never betray him. Zhang Bao fell for it and sent Linghu Zheng to lead troops to relieve Liangzhou. With military command in hand, Linghu Zheng quietly turned back once he reached Yumen Commandery. Using Zhang Bao’s troops as his guise, he reversed course back to Dunhuang and launched a surprise attack on the city. Lv Xing had not imagined that Zhang Bao’s army had fallen into Linghu Zheng’s hands and was caught completely off guard. Linghu Zheng broke through the city walls and killed him on the spot. With the support of the Dunhuang gentry clans, Linghu Zheng’s forces grew powerful, and he then advanced into Guazhou and dealt Zhang Bao such a defeat that he fled to Tuyuhun.”

Xuanzang drew a long breath. “This Linghu Zheng was truly a man of iron will and cunning! Every one of these treacherous maneuvers was flawless!”

“Citing the charge that ‘Lv Xing had plotted treason, bringing ruin upon the innocent, and all in the prefecture had thereby fallen into dishonor,’ Linghu Zheng exterminated the three branches of the Lv family to the last person, and simultaneously hung Lv Xing’s head from the city gates as a public display.”

Suo Yi said.

Xuanzang pressed his palms together and let out a long sigh. “For hundreds of years, those of humble origin who sought to rise did so on a treacherous road — some soared to the sky, some had their whole families destroyed. Hundreds of years later, when one opens the history books, it is all nothing more than a dream, a bubble, a shadow — as fleeting as dew, as brief as lightning.”

Suo Yi also sighed. “Indeed! The blood of the entire Lv family was the stepping stone upon which the Linghu clan rose. At the time the gentry clans wanted to appoint Linghu Zheng as Governor, but Linghu Zheng was unwilling to receive the position through private arrangement. He therefore offered Guazhou and Dunhuang to the court. Yuwen Tai appointed him Pacification General and Grand Commander. Linghu Zheng truly was a man of iron and cunning — he actually led two thousand men of his clan into the court and joined Yuwen Tai’s campaigns. Yuwen Tai, moved by his loyalty, said: ‘Your distant ancestor left in a spirit of loyalty; now you have come in that same spirit of loyalty.’ He not only granted him the imperial surname Yuwen, but also listed his family of over two hundred households among the Western Wei imperial clan register. Before this, even though the Linghu clan was gentry, it was nothing more than a regional clan of a remote and obscure corner of Longright. It was from Linghu Zheng onward that the Linghu clan entered the central court, and only then could it be called a clan of renown throughout the realm.”

Xuanzang was silent for a long while. The party rode on through the yellow sand, the Singing Sand Mountains stretching endlessly before them in tawny gold, the mounds of the burial grounds rising in an unbroken line. Xuanzang stared blankly at the ground beneath his horse’s hooves. The burial mounds were silent and lonely, yet what they interred was glory — and every handful of this sand beneath his feet had likely been soaked in the blood of those who had failed.

“Then Lv Sheng’s family were members of the Lv clan who managed to escape by luck?”

Xuanzang was somewhat puzzled. “If they had such a blood feud with the Linghu clan, why did Lv Sheng still accept a posting to Dunhuang?”

Suo Yi thought for a moment. “Of this I only know a little. Apparently it was because of his aged father — Lv’s father, fearing his days were running short, wished to die in his homeland, and so Lv Sheng accompanied him back to Dunhuang.”

“If that is so, then Dunhuang is little short of a death trap for Lv Sheng. The moment he set foot in Dunhuang, he would surely come into open conflict with the Linghu clan.”

Li Chan frowned. “That Lv Sheng earned top marks in both examination subjects — how could he act so rashly?”

Suo Yi said with a bitter smile: “These things are beyond my knowledge. The Linghu clan’s power among the Dunhuang gentry is now firmly preeminent. Linghu Demao’s third son, Linghu Zhan, is the General of the West Pass Garrison, stationed right at the West Pass in the county town, and clan members fill official posts throughout the prefectural and county offices. As for the court, there is the younger brother Linghu Defen, who is Vice Minister of Rites and a great scholar of history and literature. If I were Lv Sheng, I would never dare set foot in Dunhuang.”

Xuanzang understood that Suo Yi was wary of the Linghu clan’s power and reluctant to say more, and so pressed no further.

He raised his head, and was suddenly met with a scene of overwhelming splendor.

Across the broad river, a cliff face stretching several li stood before them, running along the riverbank and soaring into the sky. Above the cliff was a sand dune; the setting sun illuminated it in a brilliant golden glow that shimmered against an infinite expanse of blue sky, as if a streak of lapis lazuli pigment had been poured across the heavens. On the cliff face, layer upon layer of walkways wound their way along, with caves clustered among them, dense as honeycombs. Dimly visible, many of the caves were still being excavated — craftsmen hung from the cliff face on ropes, working away, and on the walkways countless artisans carried timber and clay upward.

From a distance, the entire cliff face seemed to writhe and move.

They had arrived at the Mogao Caves.

In the inner city’s Guihe Ward, at the rear quarters of the Prefectural Governor’s residence.

It was just past sunset, the sky in that twilight between day and dark, a crescent moon already risen and hanging at the far end of a long street. The curfew had already taken effect; the inner city was all government offices, and the streets were empty and still. The hurried drumbeat of hoofbeats shattered the silence and the moonlight. Wang Lishe, Military Affairs Adjutant of the Commander’s Office, rode at full gallop down the main thoroughfare with two attendants, reining in his horse with a sharp cry before the rear gate of the Prefectural Governor’s residence — the horse gave a long whinny and came to a sudden stop.

The Governor’s residence maintained the traditional Central Plains arrangement of official hall in front and living quarters behind. The front housed the prefectural offices; in the rear, the central unit was the Governor’s own dwelling, with the Senior Administrator’s residence to the left and the Prefectural Marshal’s to the right — three great officials living side by side.

The steward of the Governor’s residence, Wang Junsheng, cousin of Wang Junke, waited at the main gate with Lieutenant Zhao Ding and four personal guards to receive him. The two men exchanged bows without a word and were escorted inside, heading toward the main hall.

They walked at a quick pace; tree shadows loomed dark in the courtyard, a wind blew with a rustling sound, and the atmosphere felt somehow strange.

Wang Junke descended the steps to receive his guest. Wang Lishe quickly bent in a bow. “This subordinate greets Lord Wang!”

“Adjutant Wang need not stand on ceremony. You are a close associate of the Prince, and I, as a subordinate of the Commander’s Office, must ask you to look after me in many things.”

Wang Junke personally accompanied Wang Lishe into the main hall, where they sat down in the positions of host and guest.

On the mats was a low food table with wine, food, and fine fruit. Wang Junsheng personally poured wine for both men, then stood to one side to attend.

“Adjutant Wang, to come calling so late at night—”

Wang Junke had just spoken his first words when Wang Junsheng grimaced and leaned close to whisper in his ear: “The expression ‘late at night’ refers to the hour of yin — the third watch.”

Wang Junke’s expression did not change; he carried on serenely: “…to come calling so urgently this evening — could it be that the Prince has some instructions?”

Wang Lishe acted as if he had not noticed, and smiled. “The Prince and Lord Wang are old comrades-in-arms, and there is nothing that cannot be said openly between you. Today’s matter is a private one. Properly, one ought to invite the elders of Dunhuang to call in person — but for fear of causing awkwardness, he sent me to pay a visit first.”

Wang Junke and Wang Junsheng exchanged a glance, both somewhat puzzled.

Wang Junke hesitated. “The Prince and I have known one another for many years, and he is my superior — even if it is inconvenient for the Prince to speak directly, he could simply send an official dispatch. There is nothing this subordinate would fail to comply with. What need is there for elders to come forward?”

“This matter cannot be sent in an official dispatch.”

Wang Lishe smiled ruefully and thought for a long moment, at a loss for how to begin. “Has Lord Wang met our young master the heir?”

“I met him today at the Prefectural Post Station.”

Wang Junke said. “The heir is impressive and striking; these three years in the harsh land of Guazhou attending the Prince, I understand he has been most…”

Wang Junke cast a glance at Wang Junsheng, who silently mouthed two words.

“…most dutiful in his morning and evening greetings — truly a blessing for the Prince.”

“Indeed! The heir is gentle in temperament, exceptionally clever, well-versed in the Three Classics, and conversant with Buddhism and Daoism. Were it not for his imperial birth, he could certainly sit the Scholar Examination.”

Wang Lishe took a sip of wine. “I have heard that Lord Wang’s twelfth daughter is gentle and virtuous and most filial toward her parents?”

Wang Junke and Wang Junsheng both suddenly understood: this Wang Lishe had come to propose marriage! Both men’s expressions immediately became grave. Even Wang Junke, who had always been a man of a hundred stratagems, found himself momentarily at a loss for what to say.

Wang Junsheng thought for a moment. “Our twelfth daughter will be nineteen this year. She should have been betrothed long ago, but these years in Dunhuang have delayed things. Adjutant Wang, you have known our lord for many years, so there is no shame in telling you: the twelfth daughter is filial, that much is true, but ‘gentle and virtuous’ is another matter entirely.”

“Oh…”

Wang Lishe was taken aback. “How so?”

Wang Junsheng shook his head. “Our lord has spent long years on campaign in the military, and our family’s ways are those of the martial. The twelfth daughter absorbed this influence from childhood; though she has studied poetry and letters for several years, from young she has loved brandishing spears and clubs, drawing hard bows, riding fierce horses, wielding long lances — she can even wield a thirty-jin battle blade without a drop getting through, and quite a few formidable soldiers in the army have been bested by her hand.”

Wang Lishe was stunned for a long moment, staring at Wang Junke, speechless.

“Do excuse us for making you laugh, Adjutant Wang.”

Wang Junke smiled ruefully. “As you know, I grew up poor and did not marry until I was nearly thirty, after joining Wagang. The son and daughter I had both grew up at Wagang from a young age. My son Yong’an is fine enough — he has some literary talent — but the twelfth daughter is another matter entirely. The people around her growing up were heroic figures like Uncle Shubao and Uncle Yaojin, and what she absorbed was all bows and horses, spears and clubs. After we entered Chang’an I found great Confucian scholars to give her a proper grounding in poetry and letters, but it could not be undone.”

Wang Lishe listened to the end with a rueful smile, then steeled himself and slapped his hand down decisively. “Excellent! Now that is a tiger-daughter of a military family!”

Wang Junke and Wang Junsheng looked at each other, baffled.

“Let me speak plainly,”

Wang Lishe laughed heartily. “Lord Wang, the heir will turn twenty-one this coming twelfth month — and just like your daughter, he has long been stationed in Guazhou and to this day has not yet been matched. Last month the Princess Consort wrote from the capital about the heir’s marriage, listing several noble daughters from Duke and Chief Minister households and asking the Prince to make a decision. The Prince, being a man of easy temperament who has spent these years removed from the intrigues of the court and been quite content, has no wish to become entangled again with the various Dukes and Chief Ministers at court. The Prince has known Lord Wang for many years, knows you well, and the children of both families happen to be at hand — the Prince therefore had the idea of forming a lasting bond through marriage. What does Lord Wang think?”

Wang Junsheng was making insistent eyes at Wang Junke; Wang Junke acted as if he saw nothing, clasped his hands and bowed. “I am deeply honored by the Prince’s regard — it is a blessing for my daughter. Yet my daughter’s temperament… The Prince’s lineage is noble, and the family’s manner is proper and dignified. I wonder whether it would suit the heir?”

Wang Lishe had come to seal this matter no matter what — even if Wang Yuzao were a fierce tigress of a woman, he would see this match made. He laughed heartily at once. “Lord Wang does not know — the Prince is most fond of this kind of spirited, heroic woman! The Li family rose from Longright on horseback and won the realm in the saddle. If one’s own descendants were to be softened by the hands of a delicate woman, would that not be a disgrace to the martial heritage of our founding ancestor, the Great-Founder August Emperor? A perfect match! A perfect match! The most perfect of matches!”

Wang Junke smiled. “In that case, please have the Prince send a matchmaker to present betrothal gifts and inquire into her birth data. So long as their eight characters are compatible, this subordinate has no reason to decline.”

Wang Lishe, seeing Wang Junke agree on the spot, was greatly pleased. “This subordinate will go at once to the Mogao Caves to inform the Prince, and we shall choose an auspicious day to call with betrothal gifts!”

“The Prince is at the Mogao Caves?”

Wang Junke’s expression changed.

“Does Lord Wang not know?”

Wang Lishe explained. “Tonight there is an auction at the Shengjiao Temple. Since the city is under curfew, the wealthy and prominent of the prefecture arranged to hold the auction at the Shengjiao Temple for convenience, with revelry through the night. They say rare treasures from every country of the Western Regions are gathered, and there is even a fragment of the Buddha’s relics, and so the Prince acted on a sudden impulse and set off to attend.”

Wang Junke leaped to his feet in alarm. “Where is the Prince now?”

“He should be about halfway there.”

Wang Lishe thought for a moment. “When this subordinate left, the Prince was just preparing to depart the city before the curfew.”

Wang Junke gritted his teeth, speaking word by word. “Adjutant Wang, go immediately and intercept the Prince. Escort him back to Changle Temple. Zhao Ding!”

From outside came the sound of armored soldiers; personal guard Lieutenant Zhao Ding responded and stepped inside with a stride. “Reporting to the General!”

Wang Junke said: “Deploy a company of armored troops to protect the Prince back to Changle Temple. Tonight you are not to return — stand guard in Changle Temple. If anything should happen to the Prince, military law will be enforced without exception!”

“Yes, sir!”

Zhao Ding bellowed.

“Lord… Lord Wang, what has happened?”

Wang Lishe was so frightened his limbs went weak. A full company was one hundred soldiers, and elite armored troops at that — what terrible enemy required such precautions?

Wang Junke drew a deep breath, his expression grave. “Adjutant Wang, tell the Prince: he must on no account venture into danger. Tonight the Mogao Caves are already a dragon’s pool and tiger’s den, filled with deadly peril — it will be a bloodbath!”

Wang Lishe cried out in alarm, wasted no time on further questions, leaped up, and charged out. Zhao Ding followed close on his heels. The courtyard then filled with the dense, pattering sound of footsteps, the clash of armor plates like a sudden storm, receding swiftly into the distance.

Wang Junke stared at the retreating figures, his expression shifting between shadow and light.

“Fourth Brother,”

Wang Junsheng said in a low voice, “do you want to go in person?”

Wang Junke shook his head. “The situation at the Mogao Caves is extremely complex. We shall watch from the sidelines.”

“Yes.”

Wang Junsheng hesitated for a moment. “Fourth Brother, do you truly intend to give Yuzao in marriage to the Li family? That Li Yan is deeply suspected by His Majesty — if His Majesty moves against him, will not our Wang family be implicated? You yourself said that His Majesty’s reshuffling of the Longright officialdom clearly amounts to a four-way encirclement of Li Yan. If… if Li Yan is removed, what will become of Yuzao?”

Wang Junke, hands clasped behind his back, paced back and forth through the main hall — he too was clearly finding the decision difficult.

“Junsheng, you know what I am trying to do. Our Bingzhou Wang clan is of low and humble stock. I grew up poor and orphaned, making my living selling horses. Yet at the Great Tang court, pedigree and lineage are everything, and men of low birth are looked down upon everywhere. The court is full of officials from aristocratic clans with legacies of a hundred or even a thousand years. Even though I earned the rank of County Duke and Grand Pillar of the State through military merit, I still have no roots at all and am treated with disdain. Do you know what they call men like me? They call us upstarts!”

Wang Junke clenched his fists, his teeth grinding. “If we want to become gentry, we need successive generations in official service — continuous, unbroken — and in three generations there must always be someone serving in positions of the fifth rank or above before we can establish the Wang clan’s aristocratic standing. That is too slow, Junsheng — far too slow!”

Wang Junsheng’s face was also full of indignation. “Those rats and curs! If not for you and your comrades bathing the land in blood to carve out this realm, they would have long since been wiped out to the last man by those rebel kings!”

“Indeed! When Big Chief Zhai led us in gathering at Wagang, it was only because life had become impossible that we set out to win the realm. Nine out of ten of our comrades from those days died or fell — yet the realm we won is still the realm of the aristocratic clans. These men cannot pacify the state in civil governance, cannot settle it in war, mere dried bones in a coffin — yet they still pride themselves on their bloodlines and maintain a wall between the nobility and the commons.”

Wang Junke was bitter. “So if our Bingzhou Wang clan wants to avoid being looked down upon and to build a foundation for our descendants, we must become gentry ourselves. But these gentry families intermarry only among themselves, maintaining the purity of their bloodlines. If anyone marries outside the nobility into common families, they risk being collectively attacked and demoted in clan standing. Even now that I am County Duke and Grand Pillar of the State, it is impossible for me to marry a daughter from the five great Shandong clans — the Cui, Lu, Zheng, or Wang families. But today the Longxi Li clan has come seeking marriage ties with us. If Yuzao marries into the Prince of Linjiang’s household, she will be the heir’s consort — and in time, the Princess of Linjiang. Who would then dare say our Wang clan’s standing is low?”

“There is certainly nothing wrong with that reasoning — our Bingzhou Wang clan cannot wait three generations to become gentry.”

Wang Junsheng hesitated. “But the Prince of Linjiang is barely keeping himself afloat. If His Majesty moves against him — in the worst case, death; in the mildest, demotion to commoner status — then Yuzao’s marriage would amount to drawing water with a bamboo basket: all for nothing.”

Wang Junke laughed loudly and clapped Wang Junsheng on the shoulder. “Rest easy! With my planning, I won’t allow that to happen. The moment Yuzao is married into the household, it will be the hour of our Bingzhou Wang clan’s rise! Now go and find Yuzao!”

Wang Junsheng left the main hall and hurried toward the inner quarters, but a moment later came running back, his face pale with alarm.

“Fourth Brother! Yuzao is gone! And your two-stone hard bow and your thirty-jin battle blade — all gone as well!”

At the Mogao Caves, Xuanzang held a torch and stood inside one of the cave grottos, enraptured by the Buddhist statues and murals. It was not until Li Chan called from the grotto entrance that he finally came back to his senses. Though Xuanzang had traveled ten thousand li these past years and seen countless temples and murals, he was still left completely overwhelmed.

The Mogao Caves had been carved in the Former Qin period. At that time a monk named Yue Zun came westward to Dunhuang and arrived at the edge of this sheer cliff. It was just at sunset; the setting sun cast its light on the Sanwei Mountains, and he saw ten thousand rays of golden light — auspicious beyond measure — and ten thousand peaks like ten thousand Buddha figures. Yue Zun was instantly enlightened on the spot and began carving a stone cave in the cliff face for his cultivation. Other monks followed in succession to carve their own grottos.

The Northern Liang, Northern Wei, Western Wei, Northern Zhou, Sui, and Tang dynasties that followed each brought monks, great aristocratic families, prominent officials, and even common people flocking to the Mogao Caves to carve grottos, create images, and build temples. The Mogao Caves became the sacred ground of Dunhuang Buddhism. Most of these grottos were family caves; the grandest were built by great clans — some a single grotto per family, some multiple grottos for a single clan — while some commoners pooled resources to carve grottos together. The Zhai, Li, Linghu, Zhang, Cao, and Yin families all had their own stone grottos.

The grottos were magnificent in form, their murals exquisite, and the statuary inside was delicate and vivid. The front chambers of the grottos had carved eaves that formed temple halls rising from the cliff face. Each was connected by walkways, layer upon layer lying across the cliff. From the walkways, the Dangquan River glittered far below, with the yellow sand piled in dunes beyond, the scene vast and grand.

By now the sky had grown dark and lamps had been lit in the caves. From a distance, tiny sparks of lamplight dotted the cliff face, as if one were looking up at the Buddha-land of the heavens. Xuanzang emerged from the Zhai family grotto with his torch, and Li Chan said: “Master, the auction at the Shengjiao Temple has already begun.”

Xuanzang nodded, and the two carefully made their way down the cliff walkways. Alongside stood some simple mud-brick quarters; the craftsmen who carved the grottos had already finished for the day and were eating their evening meal. Some were discussing the auction at the Shengjiao Temple, planning to go watch the excitement after dinner.

The Shengjiao Temple stood at the base of the cliff. It was one of the three great temples of Dunhuang and, though not the largest, was the oldest. The plaque above the mountain gate was inscribed by the great Western Jin calligrapher Suo Jing.

The auction was held in the Boundless Yard of the Shengjiao Temple.

The Boundless Yard was laid out much like a secular dwelling’s courtyard: a square, enclosed rectangular arrangement with a tall main hall in the center. The main hall, however, had no walls on any of its four sides; four enormous columns supported the roof, and gauze curtains hung all around, like an open-air stage. And indeed the main hall of the Boundless Yard served precisely as the venue for performing variety entertainments and popular storytelling.

Around the main hall were arranged more than thirty rope chairs. Abbot Zhai Faran sat in the place of honor. To his right sat a solemn-faced elder in formal fifth-rank official robes; to his left sat a long-bearded elder in a round-collar robe. Zhai Chang sat just below Abbot Zhai Faran. In descending order sat a crowd of wealthy merchants and prominent officials, their food tables laden with wine and delicacies, exchanging pleasantries and drinking merrily together.

In the center of the main hall stood a two-tiered wooden platform — the first tier a foot off the ground, the second three feet — with eight lengths of silk hanging from the top. On the lower tier, eight young and beautiful female musicians sat on either side, dressed and made up as Apsaras, playing their instruments: pipa, konghou harp, hourglass drum, and bamboo flute, each with a different instrument. Before them, a troupe of Apsara dancers in light gauze robes with long floating sashes, each carrying a flower basket, chased one another around the platform in a flowing circle, scattering fresh flowers as they went, graceful as immortals.

On the upper tier, spread with a carpet bearing a coffered-ceiling pattern in wool, another troupe of Apsara dancers performed their enchanting movements — crowned with jeweled headdresses, bejeweled at the neck with pearl collars, green long skirts at the waist, trousers below, dancing in pairs, fluttering like startled wild geese, sinuous as gliding dragons. Vaguely they seemed like wisps of cloud veiling the moon; lightly they drifted like snow in a swirling wind. The music and dance unfolded across two levels, high and low interlocking, flowers flying on all sides and long ribbons filling the air — as if the murals had come to life and the Buddha’s realm had descended into the world.

In the courtyard below the main hall were set out more than a hundred folding stools, already full of people: some craftsmen from the various guilds, some Dunhuang townspeople who had come to watch the excitement. Since the curfew had already fallen and they could not return home, everyone had come prepared, each bringing their own food, drink, and seat, planning to stay the night and lodge in the Mahayana Temple after the spectacle.

Xuanzang and Li Chan squeezed in through the crowd and unexpectedly spotted Liu Shilao, the popular storyteller they had met at the Fishspring Post Station. His female disciple Yan Niang stood behind him, quietly holding her pipa. Liu Shilao saw Xuanzang and quickly pressed his palms together. “Dharma master, you have come as well!”

“This humble monk has come to broaden his horizons.”

Xuanzang asked, “Master Liu, are you here to perform a lecture-chant?”

“I would not dare be called Master Liu!”

Liu Shilao was flustered and flattered. “My performance is already finished — I am also here just to watch the excitement.”

While the two were exchanging pleasantries, Zhai Chang sat in the elevated position of the hall and caught sight of Xuanzang. He immediately rose and came down to greet the two, first giving instructions for the music and dancing to be stopped; the dancers and musicians filed out.

“Dharma master, allow me to make some introductions.”

Zhai Chang drew Xuanzang to the side of the official in fifth-rank robes. “This gentleman is the Senior Administrator of West Shazhou, surnamed Sun and named Chalie.”

Those present all knew Xuanzang’s identity, and Sun Chalie did not dare be lax — he rose and bowed respectfully. Xuanzang had seen this man at the Prefectural Post Station as well; he was a capital official who had been demoted and sent here, known for his principled integrity, a figure Wang Junke found deeply troublesome but could not remove.

Zhai Chang then introduced the long-bearded elder in a round-collar robe to Abbot Zhai Faran’s left. “Dharma master, this is the head of Dunhuang’s Linghu clan — Lord Demao.”

Xuanzang had come precisely to see this man. He looked Linghu Demao over carefully. The man was about sixty years of age, tall and large in stature, with a face hard as a plank of wood from which it was difficult to read any expression, yet carrying the unhurried poise of a great aristocratic family.

Linghu Demao gave Xuanzang a penetrating look. “I hear the dharma master wishes to travel west to India, yet has been obstructed by others?”

Xuanzang smiled. “It is merely an aspiration I hold.”

Linghu Demao’s tone was decisive. “Though our Linghu clan is a family of poetry and letters, we too are wholeheartedly devoted to Buddhism. If the dharma master is willing to set out, within three days our Linghu clan is prepared to assist the master through the border passes and escort him all the way to Yiwu. As for Governor Li in Liangzhou, I will speak to him on your behalf.”

Xuanzang was silent for a moment, then smiled. “Once this humble monk has settled the private matter in Dunhuang, he will come to seek your help, Lord Linghu.”

“Within three days.”

Linghu Demao held Xuanzang’s gaze for a silent moment, then held up one finger. “Beyond that time, I fear the sandy wastes will be impassable, the passes and barriers difficult — and the dharma master will never be able to reach the Western Regions.”

In an instant the air between them crackled with sparks, each word carrying the edge of a blade. Even Zhai Chang sensed the tension and was momentarily unsure what to do.

Xuanzang still wore his gentle smile. “A few days ago this humble monk said something to his disciple: countless monks have journeyed westward throughout history, yet in the end the world knows only Faxian — why? Because all the others died on the road. This humble monk is willing to become the bare bones of a pilgrim who sought the dharma on the road.”

Linghu Demao simply fell silent and said nothing more.

Zhai Chang hastily drew Xuanzang away to introduce him to a few others — all wealthy grandees of Dunhuang.

Abbot Zhai Faran had servants arrange two rope chairs beside himself and invited Xuanzang and Li Chan to sit. Then four serving women came forward to dismantle the upper tier of the wooden platform and set up a five-foot-tall foreign stand in its place, carefully spreading a woolen felt mat on top. A man with a round, beaming face, plump as a ball, stepped up onto the platform and gently raised both arms and pressed them downward — and the noise around him subsided.

“My name is Ding Shouzhong, and I serve as the temple administrator of the Shengjiao Temple, managing various secular affairs for the monastery.”

Ding Shouzhong said cheerfully. “Thanks to the esteem in which you worthies hold me, you have nominated me to serve as the host of tonight’s auction. I am overcome with trepidation — two hundred or so jin of weight on legs that are already trembling. With rare and priceless treasures before us and everyone impatient to be seated too long, and me impatient to stand too long — let us begin the auction!”

The crowd in the courtyard erupted in cheers.

Ding Shouzhong called out loudly: “Each merchant’s representative and principal who has an item to auction was given a bamboo token in advance. The number on the token is the order in which you will come up to display your goods. Please step up in order, display your goods before those assembled, and let people bid. There are no other rules — the highest bidder wins!”

Xuanzang was witnessing an auction for the first time and watched with great interest.

The first to mount the platform was a merchant from the Western Regions, who by his appearance and dress seemed to be a Sogdian. Two Western Region women with golden hair and blue eyes each held a wooden box; when the boxes were opened, their contents blazed with light under the lamplight, dazzling and radiant.

“Esteemed guests, these are red glass and green crystal!”

The merchant walked the two women before the high officials and grandees in the main hall, showing off the objects one by one.

Xuanzang took one in his hands to get a feel for it. The red glass was crimson throughout, transparent as water; looking through it one could see the lines of one’s palm clearly, smooth to the touch, glowing with radiance. The green crystal, on the other hand, was not green at all — it was a translucent pale white, with a faint greenish glow within, gentle and cool, as if it held a soft clear moon.

“In the first year of Zhenguan, when our Great Tang’s reigning Son of Heaven ascended the throne, these two treasures were among the tributes sent by the Byzantine emperor.”

The merchant knew well how to sell his goods, leading with narrative and sentiment. “These two objects are exceedingly rare. The red glass grows in the earth, formed from ice that has accumulated for a thousand years. The green crystal is jade crystal from mountain peaks, which over ten million years has absorbed the essence of the sun and moon condensed within it, forming this faint greenish glow — truly a divine gift to the mortal world, presented by the gods… ah, that is, by immortals!”

Xuanzang gave a rueful smile. Abbot Zhai Faran beside him asked in a low voice: “Dharma master, do you recognize these treasures?”

“The red glass does indeed grow in the earth, but it is not formed from thousand-year-old ice — it is simply a kind of transparent glazed glass.”

Xuanzang explained quietly. “It is recorded in Ge Hong’s Master Who Embraces Simplicity that it is made from sand and soil using five materials in a smelting process, though the exact details this humble monk does not know. But according to historical records, the raw materials come from the Kingdom of Jibin; there is also blue glass from Fergana, red glass from Tokharistan, while the red glass before us indeed comes from Byzantium.”

Zhai Chang grew curious as well. “Dharma master, your learning is impressive! What of the green crystal? Can it truly have absorbed the essence of the sun and moon?”

“Absolutely not.”

Xuanzang hesitated a moment. “By its appearance, this gemstone bears some resemblance to what is called qudicijia in the Buddhist scriptures. This object should come from an island nation to the south of India called Lion Country — like jade, it is extracted from mineral ore.”

“Hmph — these Sogdians, wherever there is profit, there is nothing they won’t do.”

Zhai Chang snorted coldly. “For the sake of money, they are willing to make up any nonsense.”

“It is all because the Li clan has corrupted the standards of conduct!”

Linghu Demao said with a cold laugh. “Descendants of the great King Wu Zhao, and they model themselves after the Sogdians, organizing merchant caravans to trade for profit!”

Those nearby — Abbot Zhai Faran, Zhai Chang, Sun Chalie — exchanged glances. Zhai Chang showed an expression of embarrassment and acted as if he had heard nothing.

The surrounding voices were clamorous. Setting aside the celestial aura of the red glass and green crystal, the mere fact that these were tributes from the Byzantine emperor to the Tang emperor was enough to make countless wealthy young sons of great families scramble eagerly for them. After a round of competitive bidding, a principal member of the Yin clan won them for the high price of seven hundred and forty strings of copper cash.

The second item was also brought by a merchant from the Western Regions and was not particularly unusual — ten oak barrels containing a full ten kapich of wine transported all the way from Samarkand, reportedly stored in a cellar for ten years. The merchant opened a barrel and poured a small amount for the guests to taste. It was far superior to what was brewed locally in Dunhuang, its color amber, its fragrance intoxicating.

A wealthy merchant won it for five hundred strings per barrel.

The third treasure had not even been brought up to the main hall before it caused a commotion throughout the assembled company. A principal of the Li clan merchant house actually led onto the platform a horse standing eight chi at the shoulder, a Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse! The horse was a pale gold all over, with a fine head and high neck, long slender legs, and well-proportioned frame, and below its back were dark stripes — tiger markings.

A later poem would say: The heavenly horse comes from the caves of Yuezhi; its back bears tiger stripes and dragon-wing bones.

Sun Chalie, who loved horses to a degree bordering on obsession, could not maintain his composure. He rushed forward to feel the horse’s back, and there on either side of its spine could be seen two ridges of raised flesh.

“Dragon-wing bones! It truly is a Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse!”

Sun Chalie said in a trembling voice. “In all my life spent with horses, I have never seen a genuine tiger-stripe and dragon-wing — a true Heavenly Horse! How… how was this obtained?”

“In reply to Administrator Sun,”

the merchant said with respectful courtesy, bowing and speaking to all present, “this horse was brought by merchant friends of our Li clan: they journeyed westward over the Great Snowy Mountains last year, traveling ten thousand li to Samarkand, where they were received by the King of Kang, Daishipi, and exchanged a thousand bolts of purple-dyed silk to obtain this Heavenly Horse!”

The assembled company drew a collective sharp breath. What the Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse meant to people of the Central Plains was clearly recorded in the history books — had not Emperor Wu of Han launched two expeditions to pierce through the Western Regions, sending armies on great campaigns, precisely for the sake of these Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horses? The horse bore particular significance for Dunhuang: it was Emperor Wu’s campaign sending General Li Guangli to attack Ferghana for the Heavenly Horses that had led to the colonization of this region and the establishment of Dunhuang Commandery!

“A thousand bolts of purple silk — does that not mean this horse would cost over two thousand six hundred strings?”

Sun Chalie mused. “Though the price is steep, it is worth it!”

The merchant respectfully replied: “That is one thousand bolts of purple silk at Kang country’s prices. The rate of two strings six hundred per bolt you mention is the Dunhuang price. After being transported over ten thousand li of desert and mountains to Kang country, the price multiplied tenfold.”

“Twenty thousand strings!”

Sun Chalie’s eyes went wide.

“To transport the horse back to Dunhuang, two slaves perished crossing the mountains, and ten large carts were needed to haul water and fodder across the great desert.”

The merchant remained respectfully attentive.

Sun Chalie, however confused he might be in other matters, understood perfectly well that twenty thousand strings would never be enough for this horse.

“Quite so!”

Sun Chalie stroked the horse’s back with reluctant longing. “Emperor Wu of Han led two great campaigns against Ferghana for the Blood-Sweating Horses, campaigns stretching over several years with forces numbering in the tens of thousands — and won only thirty horses. Such a divine creature is not something money can truly buy. I have no predestined connection to this beast!”

Sun Chalie returned to his rope chair, looking forlorn.

The merchant smiled. “Esteemed guests, though the Heavenly Horse is precious, it does in fact have a price. This noble steed will begin at twenty thousand strings, with each subsequent bid no less than one thousand strings!”

A middle-aged man in the main hall immediately bellowed: “I bid—”

“Wait!”

Linghu Demao suddenly leaped from his rope chair and strode to the center of the hall. “This horse should not be auctioned!”

“Lord Linghu, why… why not?”

The merchant was somewhat baffled. Those around him were equally puzzled.

Linghu Demao wore something like a cold smile, though the muscles of his face did not move. “Lord Sun’s words were quite right — the Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse is a divine creature. It is said the Western Sea’s Heavenly Horse was born of a dragon coupling with a mare and is therefore of dragon lineage. In the early Eastern Han, the Western Regions presented a Blood-Sweating Horse to Emperor Guangwu; in the Western Jin, Ferghana presented a Heavenly Horse to Emperor Wu. Since Emperor Wu of Han pierced through the Western Regions, the Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse has in every dynasty been offered as tribute to the emperor. Through the ages Ferghana and Kangju have presented Heavenly Horses to the founding ruler of the Former Liang, the founding ruler of the Later Liang, Fujian of the Former Qin, Emperor Xiaowu of the Eastern Jin, Emperor Ming of the Southern Dynasties, and Emperors Taiwu, Wencheng, Xiaowen, and Xuanwu of the Northern Wei, and the founding emperor of the preceding Sui. Emperor Yang of Sui, in his determination to obtain a Blood-Sweating Horse, even specially dispatched Court Attendant Cui Yi to the Khan of the Western Turks to request one.”

Linghu Demao spoke with impassioned force, citing precedent after precedent from history. The assembled company listened, thoroughly confused.

“Lord Demao, what exactly are you trying to say?”

Zhai Chang could not help asking.

“Sir Zhai, please listen carefully.”

Linghu Demao said patiently. “To come to the point: in the Wude years of our dynasty, the King of Kang sent envoys to present a Heavenly Horse to the Retired Emperor, and yet during the Zhenguan reign, no Sogdian envoy has yet brought a Blood-Sweating Horse as tribute to His Majesty. The Dunhuang Li clan claims descent from the great King Wu Zhao — sharing the same lineage as the imperial family, in a manner of speaking. Having been fortunate enough to obtain a Heavenly Horse after a journey of ten thousand li, rather than presenting it to His Majesty, they intend to sell it for cash. I truly cannot fathom how the Li clan could value a few strings of copper cash above the duty of honoring the imperial family!”

At these words, the entire Boundless Yard fell absolutely silent. Not a single person dared speak. Linghu Demao had not only shown his hand but had leveled his blade directly at the Li clan, one of the eight great aristocratic families, implicating them in the grave charge of disrespecting the imperial family.

“Linghu — you make vile accusations!”

In the silence came a sudden furious roar.

An elder charged out of one of the meditation rooms of the Boundless Yard, pressed through the crowd, and strode onto the platform, pointing at Linghu Demao, his face ablaze with rage, beard and hair bristling.

“How is it that you are here, Brother Chengyu?”

Zhai Chang was startled and came down from his rope chair, moving to stand between the two men — but was shoved aside.

“This is the head of the Dunhuang Li clan, Li Zhi, courtesy name Chengyu.”

Abbot Zhai Faran murmured to Xuanzang.

Xuanzang nodded in silence. He had known that there were conflicts among the Dunhuang gentry clans, but had not imagined they were this acute — Linghu Demao had launched an attack on the Li clan with a single killing blow, right in front of everyone.

“So, Brother Chengyu, you were hiding here all along.”

Linghu Demao sneered. “And one wonders who you intended to use this Heavenly Horse against?”

“You—”

Li Zhi’s face turned the color of pig liver with rage, yet he had no way to defend himself. His status was too high to appear at the auction in person with his own merchant goods up for bidding, yet his concern for the outcome of the Heavenly Horse auction was so intense that he had concealed himself in the Boundless Yard to await news. The problem was that he could not explain this openly, and so the knife landed without resistance.

“Linghu the Third!”

Li Zhi bellowed. “What are your true intentions?”

Linghu Demao’s cold smile was unmoved. “My true intentions? I am trying to rescue the person you would implicate, and also to rescue your Li clan!”

“Utter nonsense — you are making use of a pretext to trap and harm my Li clan! What a venomous heart!”

Li Zhi said through gritted teeth.

“Trap and harm you?”

Linghu Demao laughed broadly, but his eyes were cold as ice. “Let me ask you then: from ancient times to the present, which minister has dared to receive a Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse?”

“This—”

Li Zhi was momentarily dumbstruck. Linghu Demao had just cited more than ten dynasties, all historically verifiable, and from the standpoint of ritual and law the argument was certainly valid. Of course the history books would only record Heavenly Horses being presented to emperors — but that did not mean no high official had ever owned one…

Li Zhi hesitated for a moment, then retorted loudly: “Through the dynasties, it is true that the Heavenly Horses offered by Kangju and Ferghana were always presented to the emperor — but nor has it ever been said that a minister may not ride one! For the emperor to bestow one on his subjects is also a commonplace.”

“What the Son of Heaven bestows, one may not refuse — quite right, it is a commonplace.”

Linghu Demao wore a smile that was no smile. “But apart from what the emperor bestows, which minister would dare receive a Heavenly Horse as a gift from another? In the reign of Emperor Zhang, Li Huan served as Deputy Protector General of the Western Regions, and the nations of the Western Regions offered a Heavenly Horse to Li Huan. Why did Li Huan refuse to accept? Because he was carefully observing the propriety due to a minister! In the Later Han, the people of Ferghana offered a Heavenly Horse to Cao Cao, and Cao Cao accepted it. Why? Because he was a powerful minister holding the Son of Heaven hostage! After Cao Pi ascended the throne, Cao Zhi received a Heavenly Horse and dared not keep it, presenting it to Cao Pi. In the reign of Emperor Zhi of the Eastern Han, Grand General Liang Ji demanded Blood-Sweating fine horses from the Western Regions for his private grounds — and his entire clan was exterminated! Let me ask all those present: who among you dares to receive this Heavenly Horse?”

Li Zhi was sweating on his forehead and could not rebut a word.

“Our reigning emperor adores fine horses — he has had his Six Steeds, yet has never obtained a genuine Blood-Sweating Horse. In the final years of Wude, the King of Kang presented a Heavenly Horse to the Retired Emperor, while His Majesty in the current Zhenguan reign has yet to receive a tribute of Heavenly Horses. Your Li clan claims descent from the great King Wu Zhao, sharing the imperial family’s lineage. Having been fortunate enough to obtain a Heavenly Horse, you do not present it to His Majesty; instead you sell it for money. Is it possible that in the eyes of your Li clan, a few strings of copper cash matter more than revering the imperial family?”

These words left Li Zhi dripping with cold sweat, without a word of rebuttal.

“And so I intervene to stop this auction — out of pity for the bidder as well.”

Linghu Demao declared to all present. “When the Son of Heaven rules over all under heaven and yet cannot possess this object, are you prepared to ride it with a clear conscience?”

Those who had intended to bid were left with a cold chill running down their spines, greatly alarmed. Some things do not bear close scrutiny: once examined, they come down to the crime of overstepping one’s station. In fact the Tang imperial family was rather enlightened, and few were ever convicted on trumped-up charges. Yet the political logic Linghu Demao had constructed was formidable and not easily overturned. Add to this the fact that the Li clan claimed descent from the imperial bloodline — scrutinized this deeply, the danger was lurking on all sides and made the skin crawl.

Xuanzang too was smiling ruefully and biting his lip. This Linghu Demao, with a single speech, had rendered the horse useless: the Li clan dared not sell it, no one else dared buy it, and a horse worth a king’s ransom had been turned into an ornament.

“Very well, very well — well played, Linghu the Third!”

Li Zhi shook with fury. He spun around and bellowed: “Take the horse — back home!”

At once servants came to lead the horse away, and the merchant said under his breath: “Master, the city gates have already closed.”

“To the old country residence!”

Li Zhi roared, turned on his heel, and left.

The clash between the Linghu clan and the Li clan left the auction in something of a lull. Ding Shouzhong hastily arranged for other merchants to come forward, but what followed were only frankincense, turmeric, storax, and other aromatics, along with goods like yuenuo cloth and red doe skin — though valuable, they were not particularly unusual.

It was not until two iron cages were brought in by a great merchant from the Western Regions, each containing a lion, that the auction grew lively again. Lions were also historically a tribute gift from Western Region nations to the court, though they lacked the same symbolic significance as the Blood-Sweating Heavenly Horse. Since the early Sui dynasty, wealthy merchants and grandees had enjoyed keeping exotic animals like cheetahs and rhinoceroses, and this was not prohibited. A wealthy merchant from Liangzhou spent a fortune to carry both away.

At this point a merchant from the Western Regions stepped up to the main hall, followed by two pretty young women from the Western Regions. One of them held a tray on which sat a jade box the size of a palm.

The merchant pressed his hand to his chest and bowed to all around. “My name is Mi Kangli. Today I bring a treasure. Permit me to withhold its provenance for now, and let those present see if they recognize it.”

Mi Kangli waved a hand and the two young women walked before Abbot Zhai Faran in the place of honor — one holding the tray, the other slowly opening the jade box. The assembled company craned their necks to look and were all somewhat startled: nothing unusual appeared in the jade box, nor did any light emanate from it, yet judging by Mi Kangli’s solemn expression, everyone understood it was something extraordinary.

Abbot Zhai Faran narrowed his eyes and examined it for a long while, then said in bewilderment: “Master Xuanzang, why don’t you come and look?”

Xuanzang rose and walked over. Li Chan and Zhai Chang also crowded forward out of curiosity, and the assembled company gathered to peer at the jade box together. Inside the jade box was a small stack of something extremely fine and thin, semi-transparent — like a pile of silk, yet dozens of times finer and thinner than silk; like a spider’s web, yet more densely woven, with patterns running through it; like a gelatinous substance, yet clearly layered. The whole stack was very thin, and at its edges it appeared to have been torn, the fringe uneven and irregular.

“This humble monk does not recognize this object.”

Xuanzang shook his head.

The two young women circled the main hall to show the item to each person in turn; all shook their heads in bewilderment, except for one Han merchant who studied it for a long while, hesitant.

Ding Shouzhong asked: “Guild Master Zhao, do you recognize this object?”

It turned out this man was the guild master of the silk merchants.

Guild Master Zhao shook his head. “I do not recognize it myself, but something comes to mind. Merchant Mi, are you from Paikend?”

Mi Kangli’s expression remained neutral as he nodded. “Worthy of the senior merchant of the Dunhuang guilds to know of Paikend. Indeed, that is where I am from.”

“Among the nine Sogdian clans, the people of Kang and Shi are most commonly seen. Mi clan merchants trading in Dunhuang are somewhat rarer.”

Guild Master Zhao shook his head. “Three years ago there was a Mi clan merchant named Mi Laiheng — do you know him?”

Mi Kangli’s face contorted with a flash of barely suppressed emotion. He forced a smile. “He was my father.”

“You are Mi Laiheng’s son?”

Guild Master Zhao slapped the armrest of his rope chair and leaped to his feet. “Then I know what this object is! A Heavenly Garment! This is a Heavenly Garment!”

“A Heavenly Garment?”

The assembled company looked at one another, clearly none of them having heard the term. Xuanzang was equally at a loss.

“Guild Master Zhao,”

Sun Chalie said, “explain yourself clearly!”

“Yes, Administrator Sun.”

Guild Master Zhao said. “Three years ago, a Sogdian merchant caravan came to Dunhuang. The leader was this young gentleman’s father, Mi Laiheng. After they sold the gemstones and aromatics they had brought in the West Market, they also came to my place and purchased some silk. Mi Laiheng at that time produced a jade box, saying he had one truly extraordinary treasure: a Heavenly Garment come down from the Trayastrimsha Heaven. When unfolded, he said, it measured forty li in length and weighed only six zhu. He said that wearing the Heavenly Garment, one would be free of suffering through a hundred kalpas, impure spirits would retreat on their own, one would not enter the realm of sinking, not fall into hell, not encounter the disasters of poisonous evil, not meet the calamity of tigers and wolves.”

The assembled company looked at one another. This was truly beyond belief — a garment forty li long weighing only six zhu? Bear in mind that twenty-four zhu make one liang; this garment would weigh only two qian and five li?

“Dharma master,”

Abbot Zhai Faran frowned. “This Trayastrimsha Heavenly Garment he speaks of — is it the Heavenly Garment from the Sutra on Infinite Life?”

“That would seem to be it.”

Xuanzang considered. “The Buddhist sutras say that the Heavenly Garment of the Trayastrimsha is forty li long and weighs six zhu. However, the garments worn by the heavenly beings are naturally something no mortal has ever seen.”

Sun Chalie and the others grew curious as well. “Dharma master, please explain this to us in detail.”

Xuanzang said: “The Heavenly Garments are the garments worn by the heavenly beings of the six heavens of the realm of desire. According to the sutras, the Heavenly Garment of the Four Heavenly Kings is twenty li long and weighs half a liang; the Heavenly Garment of the Trayastrimsha is forty li long and weighs six zhu; the Heavenly Garment of the Yama Heaven is eighty li long and weighs three zhu; the Heavenly Garment of the Tusita Heaven is one hundred and sixty li long and weighs one and a half zhu; the Heavenly Garment of the Nirmanarati Heaven is three hundred and twenty li long and weighs one zhu; and the Heavenly Garment of the Paranirmitavasavartin Heaven is six hundred and forty li long and weighs half a zhu.”

“Do the Buddhist sutras describe what the Trayastrimsha Heavenly Garment looks like?”

Li Chan asked.

Xuanzang shook his head. “Among the Forty-Eight Vows of Amitabha, the thirty-eighth vow says: ‘If I attain Buddhahood, and the heavenly beings in my land desire garments, they shall appear at their thought, just as praised by the Buddha — wonderfully appropriate robes shall naturally clothe their bodies. If there be any who seek to cut, sew, pound, dye, or wash, may I not attain enlightenment.’ This means that the heavenly beings of the Trayastrimsha need only think of clothing, and the garment naturally falls upon them. It is soft, delicate, and wondrous, surpassing the Heavenly Garments of all other worlds. According to each heavenly being’s taste, the Heavenly Garment naturally fits the body — its size, material, color, and style accommodating itself to the heart’s desire, requiring no tailoring. And when one no longer wishes to wear it, it dissolves on its own, with no need for washing. So what this Heavenly Garment looks like, it is truly impossible to say.”

The assembled company made sounds of admiration, and without exception looked up at the flickering lamps of the Mogao Caves, yearning for those heavenly vistas.

“The dharma master’s learning is truly impressive.”

Guild Master Zhao pressed his palms together in appreciation. “At the time, Mi Laiheng said the same thing.”

“Did Mi Laiheng say how he came to possess this Heavenly Garment of the realm of desire?”

Xuanzang asked. “In principle, the Heavenly Garment is something that comes and goes of its own accord — it appears and dissolves at will. How could it be contained in a box and appear in the mortal world?”

“I asked him that as well at the time, and he would not say.”

Guild Master Zhao shook his head. “Mi Laiheng wanted to sell it and asked me to find some wealthy buyers. But people raised the question of wanting to try on the Heavenly Garment to see if it could be worn. Mi Laiheng refused. As he said, and as you have now explained: the garment accommodates itself naturally — putting it on would pollute the Heavenly Garment, and if it decided not to be worn, he would have no way to sell it afterward. And so from Dunhuang to Guazhou, no one was willing to buy it.”

“Merchant Mi, are you here to sell this object?”

Xuanzang asked.

“Naturally.”

Mi Kangli said curtly.

“And how do you intend to prove that this is a genuine Heavenly Garment?”

Xuanzang asked.

“No proof is needed.”

Mi Kangli said with a cold laugh. “The man who killed my father and seized the Heavenly Garment will naturally know whether it is real!”

The assembled company immediately erupted in commotion. Sun Chalie said in surprise: “Your father is dead? Who killed him? Was it reported to the authorities?”

Guild Master Zhao bowed and said: “Administrator Sun, Mi Laiheng died three years ago, before you had taken up your post.”

“What happened?”

Sun Chalie relaxed slightly and asked.

“At that time Mi Laiheng had not sold the Heavenly Garment. After completing his purchases he led his caravan back to Mi. A month later some merchants returning from the Western Regions brought news that a massacred caravan had been found in the sandy wastes of the White Dragon Heap — Mi clan members, with Mi Laiheng as their leader.”

Guild Master Zhao said. “Because the White Dragon Heap desert lies west of the old Yumen Pass, already beyond the borders of Great Tang, no one looked into the matter.”

Mi Kangli gritted his teeth. “One slave escaped from my father’s caravan and brought this jade box back to Paikend. He reported that they had been ambushed and massacred in the White Dragon Heap by bandits whose sole aim was to seize the Heavenly Garment. My father fought them and was struck by multiple blades, but managed to recover only half of the Heavenly Garment before sending the slave back with it to Paikend. I swore by the Sacred Fire that I would avenge this blood. After two years of preparation, I assembled a merchant caravan and came to Dunhuang. By showing this half of the Heavenly Garment publicly, I announce to all of Dunhuang: to the one who seized the Heavenly Garment — come and take it!”

The assembled company drew in a sharp breath, looking at one another.

Linghu Demao suddenly asked: “You declare openly before a great crowd that you are here for revenge — do you think the killer would still dare come for the Heavenly Garment?”

“He has no choice but to come!”

Mi Kangli said with a cold laugh. “The Heavenly Garment is a divine object. Wearing it, one is free from suffering through a hundred kalpas, all impure spirits retreating on their own. But if one puts on an incomplete, damaged half, one will suffer divine retribution and endure torment beyond measure. If my reckoning is right, this person has been tormented for three years — living a life worse than death!”

At that very moment, from the distance came a tremendous boom, as if some great weight had been hurled against the temple gates, a thunderous crash. Then came several more booms in succession, with the rumbling sound of something collapsing. Then a single agonized shriek, and in an instant cries erupted one after another, heartrending and filled with terror and despair.

A runner covered in blood came sprinting into the Boundless Yard, bellowing: “A demon… a demon! It has come—”

Annotation: A rope chair is a type of seat. The Mogao Caves murals depict their precise form. The Comprehensive Mirror in Aid of Governance, volume 242: “A rope chair is made of planks. The person sits upon it; its breadth is just enough in front to rest the knees, behind there is a backrest, and on both sides are armrests for the elbows, with four legs supporting it from below.”

The folding stool.

According to Edward Schafer’s The Golden Peaches of Samarkand, the green crystal presented by Byzantium is likely moonstone.

Lion Country, i.e., present-day Sri Lanka, renowned for its gemstones. The finest quality moonstone comes from Sri Lanka.

Sogdian unit of measurement: 1 kapich is approximately 10 liters.

Paikend is the capital of Mi, one of the nine Sogdian kingdoms. Its site lies to the southeast of present-day Penjikent in Tajikistan.