The nineteenth year of the Zhenguan reign era, the first month. Xuanzang entered Chang’an.
The previous year, Li Shimin had moved his court to Luoyang to prepare for the campaign against Goguryeo. Such a war of annihilation consumed enormous resources, and preparations had begun more than a year in advance, the entire resources of Great Tang set in motion. Li Shimin was deeply invested in this — he was determined to destroy Goguryeo and in one stroke eliminate the greatest threat on the northeastern border. There was no shortage of dissenting voices at court; senior officials like Chu Suiliang objected, but Li Shimin overruled them all, and so many matters required his personal attention.
Upon hearing that Xuanzang had returned to the country, Li Shimin issued a special decree from Luoyang ordering Fang Xuanling and the others to arrange a reception. As Xuanzang approached the outskirts of Chang’an, he found he could proceed no further. He had been away in the West for seventeen years, traversing life and death, traveling fifty thousand li alone, passing through one hundred and ten countries, and becoming renowned throughout the Five Indias, returning with six hundred and fifty-seven volumes of scriptures and treatises. This legendary experience had been trickling back to Great Tang over the years, piece by piece, arousing the fervent admiration of the people. When the populace of Chang’an received word, the entire city was in uproar. Of the nearly one million inhabitants, several hundred thousand turned out to receive him. The crowds lining both sides of the road stretched for dozens of li; all along the way, incense was burned and flowers were scattered, and even the welcoming officials could barely make their way through. Fang Xuanling hastily dispatched the Grand General of the Right Wuhou Guard and others to escort Xuanzang into the city.
From the outskirts all the way to Hongfu Temple, for dozens of li, the people of Chang’an were packed densely on both sides of the road, holding flowers and incense candles to receive him. The great elephant presented by King Harsha had long since tumbled into a river and drowned; now Xuanzang sat on a white horse, followed by more than twenty carts loaded with scriptures and Buddhist images, the procession moving in grand and solemn array. Faced with the cheers and adoration of these hundreds of thousands, Xuanzang found himself in something of a trance. He had set out alone from the pass to journey to the West; now he returned to the cheers of tens of thousands. This seemed to be the triumph of a tenacious seeker of the dharma — it could not be called a triumph of the dharma itself.
Xuanzang rested for one night at Hongfu Temple. The next day, Wang Xuance arrived from Luoyang, dusty from the road, to pay his respects to Xuanzang.
Wang Xuance dropped to both knees and performed a full prostration: “Your disciple Wang Xuance pays his respects to Master!”
Xuanzang quickly helped him to his feet and looked him over carefully. It had been three years since the two of them had been together, since Wang Xuance had left the city of Kanauj.
“Xuance, I heard you accompanied His Majesty on his eastern campaign — why have you come back to Chang’an?” Xuanzang knew his identity as Chief Constable, and while glad to see him, could not help but find it somewhat puzzling.
“Master,” Wang Xuance explained, “His Majesty will shortly be departing Luoyang for the eastern campaign and hopes you will make your way to Luoyang as soon as possible to see him. He has specially sent your disciple to come and receive you.”
Xuanzang clasped his hands together and bowed toward the east in thanks, then asked: “Xuance, how have you fared in Great Tang these past three years?”
Wang Xuance let out a rueful smile: “Master, these two years of mine — it is impossible to put into words. First I went through the rebellion of the Prince of Qi, then the rebellion of the Crown Prince; I nearly died amid the fighting.”
Wang Xuance then gave a full account of the rebellion of the Three Princes. Listening, Xuanzang was deeply shaken.
Since the emperor’s campaign was imminent, Xuanzang, having seen to the safe storage of the Buddhist scriptures, set out through wind and snow for Luoyang. On this journey to Luoyang, Xuanzang kept a very low profile — accompanied by Wang Xuance, he traveled light, going straight to the imperial palace without stirring the slightest stir of commotion.
Li Shimin received Xuanzang in the Qianyuan Hall, where the court held its grand ceremonies — an indication of the great honor bestowed. As Xuanzang entered the Qianyuan Hall, Li Shimin personally rose to greet him and offered him a seat. The two men looked at each other: since their parting at Huoyi in the third year of Zhenguan, seventeen years had passed without meeting. Now, gazing at each other, Xuanzang’s stubble was already tinged with white and his skin darkened; Li Shimin, for his part, was no longer the man of vigorous and confident bearing he had once been — he was aged and haggard, showing unmistakably the look of a man growing old.
“You and We differ by only one year in age, do you not?” — this was the first question Li Shimin asked.
“Yes,” Xuanzang said with feeling. “Your Majesty is one year my senior.”
“The Master still appears in the prime of life, full of spirit and vigor — yet We have grown old,” Li Shimin said with deep emotion.
“The embroidered rivers and mountains of Great Tang, the flourishing Zhenguan age — one need only glance at Your Majesty’s countenance to know at once how much heart’s blood and youth it has consumed,” Xuanzang said.
Li Shimin gave a wry laugh; in his heart, the weight of the years was beyond bearing — indeed, Great Tang had consumed all his strength. The Zhenguan age of great flourishing was at hand, and how could a man not grow old?
“When the Master wished to journey West in search of the dharma, why did you not inform Us in advance?” Li Shimin asked.
Xuanzang rose and begged forgiveness: “At the time, this humble monk submitted memorial after memorial — but my sincerity was insufficient and my aspirations shallow, and I did not receive permission. I had no choice but to defy the laws of the realm and depart through the pass without authorization. For this act of presumption, I beg Your Majesty’s pardon.”
Li Shimin smiled and asked him to rise: “In those early years, Great Tang had indeed issued a prohibition on crossing the border. But you are a monk — naturally different from ordinary people — and what’s more, you undertook the journey at the risk of your life, in order to bring salvation to all living beings. We greatly admire you for it. From now on there is no need to dwell on this matter.”
Li Shimin had long harbored ambitions regarding the Western Regions and was deeply interested in the affairs, customs, and political-religious systems of those lands. He inquired about them one by one. Xuanzang had traversed one hundred and ten countries, and those he had not personally visited he still knew well by heart; he answered each question in turn, sketching them out in detail. The senior officials present for the first time felt their eyes opened wide, as if perceiving the shape of the whole world.
“The Master has journeyed through so many countries, yet the national histories contain hardly any records of them. Could the Master compose a memoir that would allow us of the Central Plain to understand the customs and conditions of distant lands?” Li Shimin said. “Let it be called ‘Great Tang Records of the Western Regions!'”
Xuanzang naturally agreed at once.
Li Shimin looked at Xuanzang with growing delight and said: “Master, when you and We first met at Huoyi, We already felt that your bearing, talent, and wisdom were that of a superior talent for governance. Why not return to lay life, Master, and participate in state affairs?”
Xuanzang was startled and hastily replied: “This humble monk understands only the Buddhist scriptures and has never studied the Confucian arts. It would be like a boat that travels by the current abandoning the water to go ashore — not only of no use, but sure to rot and decay. This humble monk hopes to serve the nation and repay Your Majesty’s grace through the cultivation of the dharma.”
Li Shimin nodded silently, as if contemplating something: “Since the Master insists, so be it. In these years We have encountered many matters and hope to be able to discuss them with you frequently. But as We campaign in the east imminently, there is no leisure. Would the Master be willing to accompany Our armies on campaign? On the road there would be more time for me to seek instruction.”
Xuanzang hesitated a moment: “This humble monk traveled from India back to Great Tang through great hardship — my health has suffered some minor ailments, and I fear I would be unable to accompany Your Majesty.”
Li Shimin laughed, pointing at him: “Master, you journeyed alone to the farthest reaches of the world. Following Us to Liaodong — a small place like that — is but a matter of wiggling your toes. That is no excuse.”
Xuanzang gave a pained smile: “Your Majesty, please pardon me — truly, the Buddhist precepts forbid monks from observing warfare and combat.”
Li Shimin sighed: “If it is a rule of Buddhist discipline, We shall not press you.”
Xuanzang then said: “Your Majesty, this humble monk has one request. I have brought back over six hundred volumes of scriptures and treatises from India and wish to go to Shaolin Monastery on Mount Song to translate them into Chinese.”
Li Shimin thought for a moment: “Translation of scriptures is certainly a great undertaking — but there is no need for the Master to go to Mount Song. Hongfu Temple in Chang’an has a quiet, secluded meditation courtyard, very suitable for translating scriptures. The Master should take up residence at Hongfu Temple.”
Xuanzang looked quietly at Li Shimin for a moment and said: “Since it is so, this humble monk will naturally follow your command. However, the capital is a place of great bustle, and the people of Chang’an, knowing I have returned from the Western Regions, are all curious and will want to come and see me. This may disturb the peace and hinder the translation work. I would ask Your Majesty to send some soldiers to guard the gates and prevent the entry of idlers.”
Li Shimin laughed heartily: “Of course — no problem. We grant this request.”
There was still time remaining, and Li Shimin had one matter of state following another. After receiving Xuanzang, Li Shimin was still lingering with interest, and asked Wang Xuance to accompany Xuanzang to the eastern imperial garden to wait.
The Eastern Imperial Garden lay to the west of the palace compound; passing through the Shangyang Palace, one reached the vast Eastern Imperial Garden, where the Gu River and the Luo River joined within the garden, then merged into the Luo River and ran east and west through Luoyang.
“Master, when you were presenting to His Majesty, why did you ask him to send men to guard the gates of Hongfu Temple?” The two of them were strolling along the bank of the Luo River, no one nearby; only now did Wang Xuance ask.
Xuanzang let out a long sigh: “What do you make of His Majesty’s character?”
Wang Xuance recalled how Li Shimin had admonished him during the Crown Prince’s rebellion, and shuddered slightly. He said in a low voice: “Master, the two of us are alone — your disciple will speak frankly. His Majesty appears magnanimous and lofty, yet in truth he harbors a deep suspicion of others. Only, he has considerable patience and a long view, which allows him to conceal it quite well.”
Xuanzang nodded: “On that day at Huoyi, I perceived as much. Now think: why did His Majesty refuse to allow me to go to Mount Song to translate the scriptures?”
“This —” Wang Xuance thought about it. “Could he harbor some wariness toward you?”
Xuanzang was silent for quite a long while before speaking: “When I entered Chang’an, hundreds of thousands of people lined the roads to receive me; the markets and streets were emptied. Any emperor confronted with a monk of such renown would be reluctant to let him go to a remote place. Once suspicion has arisen, even my remaining in Chang’an would leave His Majesty ill at ease — so I asked him to send men to guard the gates, in order to confine myself within the temple and set his mind at rest.”
Wang Xuance thought it through carefully: sure enough, when Xuanzang had made his request for guards at the gates, Li Shimin had visibly heaved a great sigh of relief, his satisfaction impossible to conceal. Cold sweat broke out on Wang Xuance instantly.
“Master, what is to be done?” Wang Xuance said anxiously.
Xuanzang glanced at him: “This humble monk has no plans to start a rebellion — what is there to be done? Soldiers guarding the gate, or a young novice guarding the gate — what great difference is there? His Majesty cannot sleep soundly, and neither can I. This way, he can sleep in peace, and I can translate in peace. What is wrong with that?”
Wang Xuance gave a rueful smile: “Only someone with your openness of heart and spirit, Master, could be so broad-minded.”
Xuanzang said nothing, only smiled.
Near the hour of You, Li Shimin at last finished his work and came to the Eastern Imperial Garden surrounded by palace guards and attendants. He dismissed his entourage and walked alone with Xuanzang and Wang Xuance along the embankment. By this time, the sun’s color had sunk into the Luo River, red clouds filling the sky, and the snow and ice from the previous days still covered the treetops and riverbanks.
The two men chatted idly for a moment. Li Shimin inquired about Xuanzang’s experiences in India, and then said: “Master, there is a matter We would like to ask about — We hope the Master will instruct Us.”
Xuanzang immediately clasped his hands together: “Your Majesty speaks too highly of me — this humble monk will say everything he knows.”
“Six months ago, King Harsha of India sent an envoy mission to Great Tang and passed along his regards to the Master — at that time, the Master had not yet returned to the country. We also had some curiosity about India and inquired about various things,” Li Shimin’s expression grew serious. “In the course of our conversation, the envoy mentioned that King Harsha seems to be seeking a medicine of immortality.”
“A medicine of immortality?” Xuanzang was startled.
Li Shimin fixed his gaze on Xuanzang intently: “The Master is on good terms with King Harsha — are you aware of anything regarding this medicine of immortality?”
Xuanzang was shaken: “How did Your Majesty come to know of this?”
Li Shimin said: “As related by those Indian envoys, King Harsha is older than Us, and his health is poor as well. He appears to have obtained the medicine of immortality — it is said to have been refined by a sorcerer called Posomi. Does the Master know the specifics?”
A tempest surged instantly in Xuanzang’s heart. He deliberated for a long time: “I have some slight knowledge of this.”
“Oh?” Li Shimin grew excited. “Please, Master, tell Us!”
“Your Majesty!” Xuanzang looked at Li Shimin’s earnest expression and himself grew grave. He decided to speak the truth fully. “This humble monk has some slight knowledge of this matter. King Harsha has indeed been seeking such a medicine. He summoned an Indian sorcerer called Posomi, whose years of life are said to reach two hundred. For some years past, Posomi has been refining this medicine for him. It is cultivated within a man and a woman — the specific details this humble monk does not fully know. Posomi calls it the ‘Great Medicine of the Human World.’ However, this humble monk believes there is no medicine of immortality in this world. This Posomi has had some dealings with me; the man is vain and unreliable, not to be trusted.”
“We know the Master’s character well — you are a man of the Buddhist faith, walking the straight and upright path, and you have always refused to speak of strange powers and unruly spirits. Yet there are in this world certain matters that human strength cannot explain,” Li Shimin said. “As to whether Posomi has truly lived two hundred years — is that true or false?”
Xuanzang let out a sigh, withholding nothing: “This Posomi was originally of Nalanda Monastery, a contemporary of the Bodhisattva Dharmapala. This humble monk did at one time have doubts about his age, yet found no flaw in the evidence.”
“Then there we have it,” Li Shimin said, clapping his hands. “What kind of person is the Master? You perceive the breadth of the universe with the sharpness of autumn. If even you have found no flaw, then it is surely possible that Posomi has lived past two hundred years!”
Xuanzang and Wang Xuance exchanged a glance. Unable to refute this, they could only remain silent.
“How is this Great Medicine of the Human World refined?” Li Shimin pressed.
This time Xuanzang found himself in genuine difficulty. He said gravely: “Regarding this so-called Great Medicine of the Human World, this humble monk is convinced it is a fraud. Twenty years ago, Posomi began its refinement. He selected a man and a woman and instilled within them the story of thirty-three reincarnated lives, causing them to enact it. In truth, the two of them were merely performing a play — but after more than twenty years of performing, they gradually became absorbed by the roles they played, until they truly believed they had passed through thirty-three lives of reincarnation. Later, because of pressure from this humble monk, Posomi had no choice but to abandon the plan. This matter is too vain and absurd — Your Majesty must not believe it.”
“Posomi abandoned it?” Li Shimin was surprised. “But those Indian envoys said the Great Medicine of the Human World is on the verge of completion!”
Xuanzang’s expression changed. He had been three years on the road — could it be that Posomi had broken his promise and once again taken control of Na Shun and Lianhua Ye?
Li Shimin frowned deeply in thought: “Making people enact thirty-three reincarnated lives until those reincarnations penetrate the two persons’ innermost hearts — that does sound quite reasonable. Does this not mean that Posomi is cultivating reincarnation within human bodies? And then, through the tempering of thirty-three lives, ultimately forming a kind of great medicine that can shatter the cycle of reincarnation and grant immortality?”
Xuanzang was genuinely horrified. “Your Majesty — why would you think in this way?”
“This is not something We could have thought of on Our own,” Li Shimin said, looking slightly embarrassed. “After hearing only a few words from the envoy mission, We once summoned a number of sorcerers of Great Tang and had them carefully analyze the feasibility of this Great Medicine of the Human World. In the end, these sorcerers did not negate the idea, saying only that the so-called arts of immortality must certainly be profoundly mysterious — and that is the gateway to all wonders. Since this remarkable man in India has devised such a method, it must have its reasons.”
“Your Majesty, this humble monk considers it a preposterous notion,” Xuanzang said gravely, knowing that on this point he must not lead Li Shimin astray. “Where in this world is there anyone who lives without dying? Where is there a person who truly lives forever? Even the Buddha is subject to the catastrophe of decay and emptiness. If all living beings could take a single pill and achieve immortality, the balance of life and death in this world would have long since been overturned. I implore Your Majesty to reflect deeply upon this!”
“Master,” Li Shimin sighed, “when We were young, We read extensively in the histories and saw how Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, Emperor Ming, Emperor Ai — all exhausted the people’s resources in pursuit of the medicine of immortality, were deceived by charlatans, and ultimately became objects of ridicule in the historical records. How could We not have laughed at them at the time? Yet once one becomes an emperor, one discovers that immortality is the greatest temptation in the world. In recent years, Great Tang has entered a period of great flourishing — and yet how much of my ambition remains unfulfilled, and already I am old and unwell. I am not resigned to it! To realize the grand vision in my heart, the only obstacle is time, and the only method is immortality!” Xuanzang was about to interject, but Li Shimin raised a hand and stopped him. “Master, rest assured — We will exercise very great restraint, and will certainly not be deceived as Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu were, to ultimately become a laughingstock of history. We wish to send someone to India, under the pretext of a return visit to King Harsha, to secretly investigate the truth or falsehood of this medicine of immortality.”
Xuanzang opened his mouth but could not find the words to dissuade him.
Li Shimin gazed at the long river and the setting sun, the snowy plains and high slopes; the moments of this life passed before his eyes — Jiancheng, Yuanji, the ten nephews, the Retired Emperor in his final days, Chengqian, Li Zhu, Noble Consort Yang… If there were still a place for reunion, they were all waiting for him there.
“Master — We are not resigned!” Li Shimin murmured. “We are master of the four seas, sovereign over all under heaven — yet when the day comes that We pass on, We will enter the cycle of rebirth alone. No armies, no power, nothing at all — even a petty ghost would dare to bully Us! We are absolutely not resigned. We desire immortality!” Li Shimin suddenly made up his mind and said through gritted teeth: “Wang, since you have already been to India once, this time you shall go again.”
“Your minister…” Wang Xuance had no choice but to bow. “As you command.”
“In a few days’ time, We shall set out on the personal campaign against Goguryeo,” Li Shimin gazed to the north. A flush gradually rose on his face, and an exhilarated energy kindled his dreams. “Remote garrison beacons blaze and flare; layer upon layer of peaks lead to lofty crests. Standards and banners unfurl in the distance; We water our horses at the passes of the Great Wall… We shall lead the iron cavalry of Great Tang to conquer in all directions, so that the descendants of Great Tang will never again see beacon fires. We shall surpass the First Qin Emperor and Emperor Wu of Han. Even if a hundred generations of dynasties come after, they shall all speak Our name. We wish to tell the blue annals of a hundred generations that even if We have committed every sin in the world, We are still the greatest emperor in history!” He turned suddenly and looked intently at Xuanzang and Wang Xuance. “Therefore, We do not wish to grow old. When We return from the eastern campaign, We will see immortality.”
After departing Luoyang, Xuanzang and Wang Xuance returned to Chang’an. Wang Xuance began making preparations for the mission to India, while Xuanzang faced the task of translating the scriptures.
Since ancient times, translating scriptures had always been a vast undertaking — all the more so since Xuanzang had brought back over six hundred volumes. While in India, his worry had been that a human life is finite, with few years remaining; though he had retrieved many scriptures, he did not know how many he would be able to translate. It was precisely for this reason that a person of Xuanzang’s character had become so entangled with the court — at bottom, all of it was for the sake of securing the court’s support for his great work of scriptural translation.
Li Shimin had earlier promised to support Xuanzang’s translation work. This would require a vast expenditure of human and material resources. When Dao’an had translated Buddhist scriptures in earlier times, his translation hall had often housed more than a thousand people; the number Xuanzang would need was likely greater still. After Li Shimin left Luoyang for the eastern campaign, he continued to take an interest in Xuanzang’s translation work, issuing decrees through Fang Xuanling that summoned virtually every eminent monk and master of Great Tang to join Xuanzang’s translation hall.
For Xuanzang, translating scriptures was his true mission in this life. In others’ eyes — traveling alone for tens of thousands of li across seventeen years to the West — the legend was remarkable; but in truth, it had only been preparation for the work of this day. When the translation hall opened, the most radiant era of Xuanzang’s life arrived at last.
After the translation hall was organized, Xuanzang was walking among the halls of scripture when he looked upon the mountain-high piles of texts and treatises and could not help but recall one scene after another from his time in India — Venerable Silabhadra, Posomi, King Harsha, Na Shun, Lianhua Ye… Suddenly he stopped, as if struck, and rushed out the door immediately, sweat breaking out on his brow, an expression of unmistakable alarm on his face.
His newly received disciple Bianji had been at his side the whole time. Seeing his master in such agitation, he hurried over: “Master — what has happened?”
“Quickly —” It was the first time in this life that Xuanzang had shown such panic; even his fingers were trembling slightly. He pointed in the direction of the imperial palace. “Go… go find Xuance. Tell him to come see me immediately. He is setting out for India today — if he has already left, pursue him on horseback at full speed!”
Bianji dared not delay. He immediately had a horse prepared and rode to the Court of State Ceremonial in the imperial district. When he arrived, Wang Xuance and his deputy Jiang Shiren were just about to set out. Hearing Bianji’s message, Wang Xuance was also greatly alarmed and immediately spurred his horse to Hongfu Temple.
The moment Xuanzang saw him, he said urgently: “Your master has made a grave error! Xuance, you must make your way to India as quickly as possible and rescue King Harsha!”
“Rescue King Harsha?” Wang Xuance was puzzled. “Is King Harsha in danger?”
“I fear the day of his death is not far off,” Xuance — he closed his eyes, his eye sockets reddening with self-reproach. “I once told you of Posomi’s scheme — how he planted the Great Medicine of the Human World within Na Shun and Lianhua Ye, and how he was later forced to abandon the plan when I exposed it.”
“Yes,” Wang Xuance said with puzzlement. “You said Posomi’s purpose in planting this Great Medicine of the Human World was to let King Harsha witness reincarnation, and thereby intimidate the kings of India.”
“Wrong — utterly wrong!” Xuanzang struck his chest and stamped his feet in anguished regret. “That was never Posomi’s ultimate plan at all. The ultimate plan was not intimidation — it was temptation!”
Wang Xuance looked on in bewilderment. Bianji had been following Xuanzang in composing the “Great Tang Records of the Western Regions” and knew the affairs of India quite well; unable to restrain himself, he said: “Master, but at the time you said Posomi wished King Harsha to witness reincarnation.”
“In actual fact, this humble monk had it backward,” Xuanzang said bitterly. “What this Great Medicine of the Human World cultivates is not reincarnation — it is immortality! The core of this plan is not reincarnation either — it is immortality!”
Seeing that the two still did not understand, Xuanzang explained: “Originally, this humble monk also failed to grasp this, and assumed that Posomi’s plan was to select Na Shun and Lianhua Ye, instill within them thirty-three reincarnated lives, and thereby intimidate kings and all living beings in order to reverse Buddhism’s declining fortunes. This level of the plan I broke at that time, forcing Posomi to release the two of them and terminate the plan. But a few days ago, after going to Luoyang to see the Emperor, I finally understood: for an emperor, reincarnation — whether in the sense of karmic retribution or divine judgment — is all abstract and unreal. What holds a truly fatal temptation for them is immortality! Whether it be King Harsha or the Emperor of Great Tang, so long as they are rulers of the human world, none can escape the temptation of immortality. Posomi has lived two hundred years — he understands this perfectly. He knows what King Harsha desires. And so what I broke was only the first layer of his plan. The ultimate purpose of this plan was to tempt King Harsha into immortality, and the medicine — is Na Shun and Lianhua Ye. This, then, is the true meaning of the ‘Great Medicine of the Human World.'”
“Then why is King Harsha’s life in danger?” Wang Xuance asked.
“To seek immortality, one must enter reincarnation — and once one enters reincarnation, how can one not die?” Xuanzang closed his eyes and sighed long. “Though I do not know the specific details, I know King Harsha is in great peril. Xuance, what we can do now is for you to reach India as quickly as possible. Every day you are early, King Harsha will have one more day of chance for survival. If you are too late — it is unthinkable.”
“Yes, Master. Your disciple will reach India as soon as possible,” Wang Xuance said. “But this Posomi is such a formidable man — if your disciple should encounter him, how can he be overcome?”
Xuanzang was silent for a moment, then said: “Posomi is wildly arrogant, overconfident, and vain. These eight qualities — use them, and he can surely be overcome.”
Wang Xuance silently repeated these eight qualities in his mind, then made a long bow toward Xuanzang: “Your disciple will remember this.”
Xuanzang walked him to the temple gate. By this time, the deputy envoy Jiang Shiren had brought the mission to wait outside the gate. Xuanzang urged him: “My dharma-brother Na Shun has lived a life of loneliness and hardship. When you go, look after him well. If he is in any danger, be sure to protect him.”
Wang Xuance agreed, swung into the saddle, and led the mission away.
Xuanzang watched their departing figures with a gaze that seemed to penetrate all the ten thousand things of the world — the dust of the Ganges, the realm of Brahma — and to see within it the foolish men and resentful women, the sorrows of kings and emperors.
Xuanzang clasped his hands and bowed in the direction of the Western Heaven, murmuring: “Subhuti — when the Tathagata says there is a self, that is not a self; it is only that ordinary people regard it as a self. Subhuti — ordinary people, as the Tathagata says, are not truly ordinary people — that is merely the name we give them.”
At just that moment, there suddenly arose a commotion within Hongfu Temple. Several monks were gathered before the main gate, calling out in alarm. A young novice was heard to say: “Strange, so strange! No wind has blown tonight — why have the treetops all turned this way?”
Xuanzang looked from a distance and saw that the boughs of several pine trees before the main gate of Hongfu Temple had all turned with their tips pointing east.
Then he heard Bianji say with a gentle laugh: “That is because my master has returned.”
The other monks asked: “Why do you say that?”
Bianji replied: “When the master departed to journey west in search of the scriptures, he once said to a certain person: ‘After I leave, whether it is three or five years, or six or seven years, look only to see whether the pine boughs are pointing east — if so, then I have returned. If not, I shall never return.'”
Xuanzang was taken aback. He fixed his gaze and looked clearly — those pine trees had all their other boughs cut away, only the eastward-pointing ones remaining. Within his heart of stone and ancient well, lightning and thunder suddenly struck; Xuanzang was utterly transfixed. He stared at those eastward-pointing boughs, and his eyes brimmed over with tears that streamed down, soaking his robe at the chest.