That night, Xuanzang’s own heart was far from settled. The Bodhi Courtyard had fallen quiet without the ceaseless chattering of Lu Luo, and though the stillness was welcome, he could not stop himself from feeling a measure of concern for the girl’s illness. With so much violence in this child’s nature — losing Cui Jue to suicide had clearly been a deep blow to her. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of vengeance day and night — how could she grow up as a normal child would?

But for Xuanzang, beyond reciting more of the Great Compassion Mantra and praying to the Buddha for her safety, there was little else he could do.

It was deep into the night, close to the hour of Zi. Xuanzang was seated in meditation in the Buddha hall when hurried footsteps suddenly sounded in the courtyard, and Boluoye came crashing in. “Master — Mas… Master…”

Xuanzang saw him drenched in sweat and could not help but frown. “Were you not resting in your room?”

Boluoye blinked — he had indeed told Xuanzang more than an hour ago that he was going to sleep, but there was no time to explain now. He said urgently, “Master, the cage… it is gone!”

“What cage?” Xuanzang was baffled.

“Kong Cheng’s… suspended cage…” Boluoye knelt before Xuanzang and said in a low voice, “I have always felt, that something was, wrong with Kong Cheng. The man Lu Luo killed, was clearly, Kong Cheng — yet how is he, still alive? There must be, a secret. So I have been, watching him.”

Xuanzang’s face remained calm, and he said slowly, “And so you have been keeping him under surveillance?”

Boluoye gave a start. He — like Lu Luo — had been feeling increasingly lately that this monk who appeared so simple and somewhat foolish was, in truth, unfathomably deep, with a will of iron, and a gaze so keen it made one’s whole body uneasy. It was as though in his presence there were no secrets to be had, as though everything in the world took on its true form beneath his compassionate and tranquil eyes.

Seeing that Boluoye had not answered, Xuanzang shook his head and said calmly, “You have been watching him since the day Lu Luo stabbed Kong Cheng, haven’t you? You have been going out every night, and although this poor monk did not know the reason, during the day you were always yawning. Someone with your level of yogic training, capable of suspending your breathing for hours at a time, would not drain your reserves this badly unless you were staying awake the entire night.”

Boluoye lowered his head. “Nothing can, be hidden, from the Master.”

“Tell me — what have you discovered?” Xuanzang said.

“Master, do you remember, the ‘suspended cage,’ in Kong Cheng’s, courtyard?” Boluoye said. “All these days, I have been, watching Kong Cheng, but found nothing, unusual. Today, however, I noticed, the cage, is gone.”

Xuanzang’s brow furrowed deeply. He had a strong impression of that “suspended cage” — not because of its unusual design, but because Kong Cheng sat inside it each day for meditation. He nodded. “In the days you have been watching Kong Cheng, did you ever see him go into the cage to meditate?”

“No,” Boluoye said. “Not once. Every evening, he entered, his meditation chamber, and did not, come back out.”

Xuanzang’s expression grew grave. He rose to his feet. “Take me to look.”

“Good!” Boluoye was excited.

The two left the Bodhi Courtyard and made their way through the ancient monastery in the dark. The moonlight was dim, obscured by thick layers of cloud. They carried no lantern, but Boluoye had been running back and forth for days and knew the path well. He led Xuanzang along, and before long they reached the wall of Kong Cheng’s courtyard.

“Master, I am afraid, you will have to, climb a tree.” Boluoye said with an awkward expression.

Xuanzang gave him a look. He knew this fellow spent his nights doing exactly this sort of climbing over walls. The courtyard wall was not high — Guo Zai could probably see over it with a good jump — but neither of them was tall enough to reach the top of the wall even with arms stretched overhead. Fortunately, just outside the wall was a pine grove, and one ancient pine had a branch jutting out at just the right angle for climbing.

Boluoye crouched down to let Xuanzang step on his shoulders to get up into the tree, then scrambled up the trunk himself with the agility of a monkey. The two balanced on the wall and then Boluoye leaped down inside, catching Xuanzang as he followed.

The courtyard was pitch dark. The disciples in the side rooms on both sides were presumably fast asleep. Boluoye led Xuanzang confidently along the wall, using the garden plants as cover, and brought them to the cliff edge — where both of them stopped dead. Below, mountain winds howled, cold waves of air rising from the depths, and the “suspended cage” stood solidly at the cliff’s edge, exactly as before.

“Impossible, impossible—” Boluoye murmured. “Master, it clearly, was not here!”

Xuanzang said nothing. He walked to the cage, crouched down, felt around the ground nearby for a moment, then opened the small door and crawled inside. Boluoye followed. “Master, have you found something?”

Xuanzang shook his head and pressed his hands against the walls of the cage, feeling around. The cage was made of wood, simple inside — no furnishings of any kind — only a meditation cushion in the center and wood paneling all around. Xuanzang moved the cushion aside, and in the dim light they could just make out something below it — something that resembled a flower.

Xuanzang reached down and touched it, and found it was a lotus flower carved in wood. Boluoye found it odd — why had the old monk placed a cushion over a carved lotus? Did he think that made him like the Bodhisattva Guanyin?

Xuanzang frowned in thought for a moment, then pressed his hand against the petals and turned them left and right. Remarkably, the carved wooden lotus began to move slightly. Both of them jolted, exchanged a glance, and their faces showed shock and fear. Xuanzang steeled himself, and following what Lu Luo had described before, turned it left three times and right four times with a firm twist.

A faint trembling rose from beneath their feet, and the entire structure began to shake. Both of them lost their balance and collapsed in a heap — and their hearts leaped into their mouths. They were at the edge of a cliff!

While they were still frightened, they realized with astonishment that the structure had begun to move — slowly, steadily sliding. Boluoye was about to speak, but Xuanzang clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head firmly. They went quiet, watching as the structure slid almost soundlessly along the cliff’s edge. Xuanzang even pulled the door of the cage shut. Boluoye’s scalp went numb — here was a man who appeared gentle and bookish, yet who was utterly, breathtakingly bold. If this thing went over the cliff, there would be no escaping it.

But Xuanzang’s expression was deeply grave. He was not worried for himself — his thoughts were on Kong Cheng, and the grief of seeing a monk who had studied under the eminent Fa Ya and who bore the reputation of a man of virtue, now entangled in something so strange and sinister. Why had the man done this?

The structure began moving at a rapid pace toward the towering cliff face to one side. Both of them felt a flash of tension. They watched as the cage shot toward the rock wall in an instant — and just as they braced for the collision, the structure plunged into the stone with a rush!

Both stared, wide-eyed, and realized that the cliff face contained a hidden door. When the cage arrived, the door opened — precisely the same dimensions as the cage — and swallowed it inside.

Before they could recover from their astonishment, a click sounded from above, followed by a powerful sensation of weightlessness, as though they had plummeted into a bottomless abyss. Even two bold men like these went pale to the point of bloodlessness. The wind shrieked past their ears, and the entire cage plunged downward into the depths…

“We are dead, we are dead…” Boluoye murmured.

Xuanzang dug his fingers sharply into Boluoye’s thigh. “Open your eyes and look!”

Boluoye opened his eyes and stared in astonishment. They were descending at a steep diagonal along the cliff face — and the speed was far less terrifying than a straight drop. Surrounding rock and darkness rushed past their faces…

“This cage has a mechanism,” Xuanzang said quietly. “If this poor monk is not mistaken, there must be hooks at the top of the cage, and what we just heard click was the groove engaging. And there must be an iron chain on the cliff face — the cage is sliding downward along the chain.”

Boluoye wiped the sweat from his forehead and murmured, “Where will we, stop?”

“I don’t know,” Xuanzang said evenly. “Wherever the destination is, there must be a braking mechanism — otherwise even at this speed, the impact would kill us. The moment we start to slow down, we should be alert.”

He spoke lightly, but his heart was weighted with gravity. It was not concern for his own safety — it was sorrow for Kong Cheng. Born a disciple of the eminent Fa Ya, he had been a monk of true virtue in the dharma world. Why had he come to conduct himself in ways so strange and shadowed?

The cage slid rapidly along the cliff with a faint creaking sound. The abyss below seemed bottomless — they descended for what felt like half an incense stick’s time without reaching the bottom. Boluoye said with wonder, “No cliff, could be this, deep!”

Xuanzang nodded. “Indeed, no cliff would be this deep. We are certainly traveling along an iron-chain track to some specific destination.”

“What destination?” Boluoye asked.

“The place Kong Cheng just visited,” Xuanzang explained. “When you first looked, the cage was not in its place, but when we arrived it was. This cage is, in truth, a secret mode of transport. That tells us someone rode it out once and came back. Because the inner mechanism of the lotus in this cage is not particularly hidden, the disciples in Kong Cheng’s courtyard likely know of it — so we cannot determine who made the trip.”

Just then, a faint glimmer of lamplight became visible ahead. In the surrounding darkness and depths, that small flicker stood out unmistakably. The two exchanged a glance and began to feel tense. Where there was lamplight, there were people. If this was truly some secret refuge below, arriving so openly would be walking right into a trap.

And at this moment they both felt that the cage was moving far, far too fast.

The glow ahead expanded gradually. Looking down from their height, they could see it was a farmhouse-style compound built against the mountain. It had two successive courtyards, roofed with blue-grey tiles that were nearly the same color as the rock — extremely well concealed. The cage began to slow. A grinding friction sound rose, mixed with the clatter of machinery. The speed dropped steadily, and the cage glided along the cliff face in the dark and settled quietly into the gap between the last courtyard and the mountain wall.

Xuanzang whispered a few instructions to Boluoye. Boluoye broke into an eager grin. “Understood, Master.”

The cage came to a smooth halt on the ground. Just as the two were about to step out, they heard hurried footsteps from the rear courtyard — someone coming to investigate the sound. Xuanzang stepped in front of Boluoye to meet the newcomer. It was a middle-aged man dressed like a woodcutter. In the extreme darkness, the man could not make out Xuanzang’s features — he saw only a shaved head gleaming in the faint light.

“Where is Elder Brother?” Xuanzang pressed his palms together and asked.

“He went to the stable, saddled a horse, and headed toward the county town,” the woodcutter answered automatically, then suddenly noticed that Xuanzang’s face was unfamiliar and frowned. “Which Elder Brother are you, sir? I’ve never seen you before.”

Xuanzang smiled. Boluoye materialized from behind him like a wisp of smoke and delivered a swift chop to the back of the man’s neck. The man’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he crumpled silently to the ground. Xuanzang frowned. “That strike was not too heavy? You did not take his life?”

“In your, presence, how would I dare, commit killing?” Boluoye shook his head. “He will wake up, in three or five hours.”

The two slipped quietly through a small door into the second courtyard, and immediately heard a fluttering sound. By the faint light spilling from a room, they found a row of neat pigeon lofts along the wall, housing more than twenty white pigeons.

“These must be carrier pigeons — used for sending messages,” Xuanzang thought to himself.

Proceeding further, they were hit by the strong smell of horse dung. It was a stable, housing more than ten tall horses resting quietly, their occasional soft snorts the only sound. The saddles had been removed and stacked in neat order on the wooden racks alongside. Xuanzang felt increasingly puzzled. The rear courtyard had three rooms, and only the one nearest the stable was lit. The other two were dark, and from them came the overlapping sounds of snoring.

Boluoye said in a low voice, “Master, judging from the breathing, those two dark rooms have seven or eight people in them. The lit room has only one person.”

Xuanzang nodded and walked quietly to the window, where he pressed a fingertip through the paper to make a peephole and looked inside. Boluoye thought admiringly from behind: “The Master truly is remarkable — not only is his command of the dharma profound, he is even practiced in these street arts and skills…”

Inside the room sat a man in his mid-twenties, dressed in ordinary civilian clothing, sprawled across the table and yawning. On the table were two small dishes of food and a jug of old wine. The man was muttering to himself, “This fellow — why isn’t he back yet?”

Xuanzang beckoned to Boluoye, and the two gently pushed open the door. The man inside did not look up. “What took you so long? Which Elder Brother came down?”

Silence greeted him. He raised his head in puzzlement — and immediately froze at the sight of Xuanzang and Boluoye.

Boluoye was about to move, but the man suddenly gave Xuanzang a deep, respectful bow. “Why, it is the great Master! Little man Xu San pays his respects.”

Xuanzang was taken aback. He gave Boluoye a look and said cautiously, “You know this poor monk?”

“Six years ago, this little man had the good fortune of seeing the Master from afar,” the man said, his face full of reverence. “I would not have expected that after so many years the Master’s bearing remains unchanged.”

Xuanzang felt a sinking in his heart. The man had mistaken him for someone else — and the only person who could be mistaken for him was his own brother, Chang Jie. The grief of it was hard to bear. Chang Jie had clearly been involved in this terrible and sinister affair. Where was he? What secret business was he engaged in?

His heart ached, but his face showed nothing. He nodded calmly. “Ah, I am afraid this poor monk has forgotten. You are Xu San? When were you assigned here, and what is your duty?”

“In reply to the Master,” Xu San said, “this little man came to this Flying Feather Courtyard five years ago. My duty is tending to the horses.”

So this place was called the Flying Feather Courtyard. Xuanzang turned the name over in his mind for a moment and asked, “What were you doing before?”

“This little man is a stonecutter,” Xu San said. “I once helped build Xingtang Temple. Afterward, Master Kong Cheng learned that I had once tended horses for the Turks and recruited me to come here.”

Xuanzang continued to ask indirect questions and learned that the Flying Feather Courtyard maintained fast horses and carrier pigeons and served as a secret communications base — a relay hub for messages, handling liaison between Xingtang Temple and the outside world. A steel-cable track had been constructed between this base and the core meditation courtyards within Xingtang Temple, with the suspended cage capable of traveling back and forth — not only transporting people in secret, but also conveying bulky objects that could not pass through the main gate.

This Xu San only handled the outer work of the compound and knew nothing more of its inner workings.

Xuanzang nodded. “This poor monk has urgent business with Elder Brother Kong Cheng, but he is not in his meditation courtyard. I saw the cage had been used just now and thought he had come down the mountain, so I followed to ask. Where he might be — do you know? This poor monk must find him as quickly as possible.”

“Hmm…” Xu San thought for a moment. “Whatever Master Kong Cheng does and where he goes, he naturally would not tell us underlings. But this little man heard the direction of his horse’s hoofbeats — it sounded as though he headed toward the county town.”

Xuanzang feared giving himself away if he probed too closely, and so nodded. “Bring this poor monk two horses.”

“Yes.” Evidently Chang Jie’s standing was very high — high enough to command the Flying Feather Courtyard’s resources. Xu San agreed without hesitation and went to the stable to bring out two horses.

At that moment Boluoye wandered over smiling and beckoned the man over with a wave. “You — come here.”

Xu San walked over with a puzzled look at this Western man. Boluoye said with a grin, “Our, great Master’s, whereabouts, are an absolute, secret. You people, here, cannot know. Understand?”

Xu San thought of the organization’s harsh methods of discipline, and his face instantly went white. He dropped to his knees, nearly weeping aloud. “Master — great Master — please spare this little man! Please spare this little man!”

Boluoye hauled him up. “Do not, be afraid. The Master is merciful, and does not, kill people. Let me, knock you out, and when you wake up, just act, as though you know nothing. Understand?”

“Understood, understood.” Xu San was sweating all over. He voluntarily bowed his head toward Boluoye for the blow.

Just as Boluoye raised his hand to strike, Xuanzang said, “In the rear courtyard there is someone my attendant knocked out. When you wake, explain the situation to him and tell him not to make a commotion.”

“This little man understands, this little man understands,” Xu San was still bowing and scraping when Boluoye knocked him out without further ceremony. Boluoye carried him and the other unconscious man inside and deposited them both on a bed, extinguished the lamp, and slipped quietly out of the Flying Feather Courtyard with Xuanzang, leading their horses.

The Flying Feather Courtyard was extremely well concealed — its back was to the cliff, and its front was blocked by a hill, surrounded by thick forest on all sides. Even walking into the woods, one would not be able to see the compound. A narrow path wound through the trees. The two mounted and set off, and Boluoye asked, “Master — where, are we going?”

“The county town. The people in the Flying Feather Courtyard are only servants — they know nothing of the core secrets. To find the truth, we must track down Kong Cheng.” Xuanzang said lightly. He shook the reins and urged his horse forward at a gallop.

Hooves struck the mountain rock, the sound ringing clear and bright. A cold crescent moon buried itself in cloud and mountain ridge, making the path ahead dim and difficult to read. The mountain peaks all around rose into great dark shapes that pressed down overhead. From time to time, the sound of jackals carried through the dark — desolate, deep, and frightening.

They were in a mountain valley, so there was little risk of straying from the path. The two rode side by side, the night wind whistling past their ears. The hoofbeats shifted between hollow and crisp sounds as they galloped for nearly half an hour before finally leaving the Huo Mountains behind, with only a little less than twenty li left to the county town. Looking around, the night was black as ink in every direction, with only the nearby trees swaying in the hazy moonlight.

They picked out the path ahead, and very soon found the road they had traveled half a month ago on their arrival, and then dared gallop full speed. Another half hour of riding brought them to the outskirts of the county town. Huoyi County was famous for its formidable terrain — in the past, when Li Yuan was campaigning to defeat the Sui, Song Laosheng had held the city, and Li Yuan’s tens of thousands of troops could do nothing against it. If he had not lured Song Laosheng out by stratagem, the fate of the realm might have been decided very differently.

In the dark of night, the towering walls of Huoyi County rose before them like a dense cloud, its black mass covering half the sky. It was already past midnight. The city gates were locked, the drawbridge raised, the moat two or three zhang wide. Both of them stared and felt at a loss.

“Master, the gate, has long since closed. Kong Cheng, could not possibly, have gotten in!” Boluoye said.

Xuanzang frowned and looked around. They were at the east gate, which was desolate — only a scattering of households, all dark and lightless.

Huoyi was a military stronghold. Before the defeat of Liu Wuzhou, who had been based in Shuozhou, the countryside outside the city walls had been too dangerous for settled habitation. For the six years since Liu Wuzhou’s fall in the third year of Wude, the people’s livelihoods in Hedong had gradually recovered, and communities had begun to form along the two main roads leading north and south from the city. But to the east, the only destination was the Huo Mountains, and beyond the city gate lay open wilderness.

Xuanzang straightened in the saddle and looked around. A short distance to the north he thought he could make out what seemed to be a dark and unlit temple. He gestured to Boluoye, and the two nudged their horses quietly in that direction. Arriving there, he found it was indeed a small earth god temple — a structure from the Sui dynasty, by the look of it, long since abandoned after the years of warfare. Even the temple gate was gone, and the front roof had a gaping hole, utterly dark inside.

The two exchanged a glance, shook their heads, and were about to leave when they suddenly heard the faint sound of a horse blowing its nose. Xuanzang’s eyes sharpened. He gestured to Boluoye, and they tethered both horses to an old elm in front of the temple and slipped inside.

Inside the temple it was pitch dark, filled with the smell of rot. The earth god figure on the main altar was half broken away, draped entirely in cobwebs. As soon as the two entered, a bat startled from its roost and swept past their ears with a rush, giving them both a fright. The two circled the deity figure but found nothing. They went through the back door and into the rear courtyard, which was even more derelict. Two of the side rooms had largely caved in, and the remaining one was also on the verge of collapse.

Yet in the courtyard, tethered to an old elm in the corner of the wall, was a horse!

The horse looked up at the two of them, blew a soft breath through its nostrils, then turned back to chewing leaves from the elm tree. Xuanzang walked over and felt the horse’s back — the sweat had not yet dried, and the cushion on the saddle still held a trace of warmth. Xuanzang felt a sharp jolt of alarm. He scanned all around with grave attention, but strangely, there was only the horse and nothing else suspicious — and certainly no sign of a person.

Boluoye said softly, “Master, by the look of things, this must be, Kong Cheng’s, horse. He arrived here, not long ago. The horse is tethered, here, which means the person, cannot have, gone far.”

Xuanzang stared at the surroundings for a long while, then slowly shook his head and said in a low voice, “This place is very remote — there are almost no households within four or five li. Kong Cheng is unlikely to have set off on foot. If this poor monk’s guess is right, there must be a hidden passage here!”

“A hidden passage?” Boluoye was stunned.

Xuanzang nodded, gazing at the dark city walls in the distance. “In times of chaos, when one’s life is uncertain from day to day, and an entire clan lives within the city — if enemy forces were to lay siege, would not the whole family face destruction? For this reason, some high officials and even wealthy households would secretly build a passage to the outside of the city, and it is by no means unusual. Once there was danger, the whole household would slip through the passage — either to escape or to hide inside for a time until the situation settled.”

Boluoye knew little of the history and customs of the East — this land was too different from Tianzhu. He had heard that a single prefecture here was larger than the great cities of Tianzhu, like Kanyakubja or Pataliputra. Hearing Xuanzang explain it this way, and recalling the passage Lu Luo had described, his interest was sparked at once. The two began a careful search of the earth god temple.

The main hall was the primary focus. The half-broken earth god figure seemed unlikely to conceal a passage entrance, and the crumbling side rooms in the rear courtyard were even less likely. After a long search, they suddenly found a well in the corner of the rear courtyard. The well mouth was about two feet across. Xuanzang leaned over and looked down, and Boluoye drew out a fire-starting stick from his bosom, struck a light, and handed it to him. Xuanzang had not expected him to be carrying such a thing, but said nothing, and held the flame close to the four walls. The well’s interior was lined with blue bricks, worn and moss-covered after many years, with some sections crumbled away.

Xuanzang studied it in silence, then beckoned to Boluoye. “Look at these damaged bricks — do they not leave just enough space for a person to climb?”

Boluoye leaned over and looked. He nodded. “Master, let me, go down first, and see?”

Xuanzang nodded. Boluoye descended nimbly, gripping the gaps between the bricks — one hand, then one foot, alternating downward. Sure enough, the damaged bricks provided just enough footholds. About two zhang down, Boluoye’s figure disappeared from view, with only the faint gleam of the fire-starter visible below.

Xuanzang feared Boluoye might slip and fall, and was watching anxiously, when from below came a hollow, echoing voice: “Master, your, extraordinary, foresight is, on the mark again! There really is, a passage, in the well wall!”

Xuanzang was overjoyed and said quietly, “Go in and wait for me. I am coming down.”

He extinguished the fire-starter and began to climb down. Fortunately, years of wandering had left him in far better physical condition than those monks who had long resided in monasteries, and he made his way down without mishap. Two zhang down, there was indeed a passage in the well wall — about two feet high. Boluoye stretched out from the entrance and caught him, carefully drawing him inside.

The two rekindled the fire-starter and found that a narrow, deep passage stretched ahead of them into the darkness, with no end in sight. They exchanged a glance, hearts simultaneously tightening. What astonishing discovery awaited at the far end of this passage?

The courtyard lay in silence, the night dark as death-black ink.

From Huoyi County’s main street came the clear sound of the night watch drum — it was already past the second hour of the Ox watch, deep in the night. The bedchamber of the county magistrate’s residence was utterly still after the night’s revels. Guo Zai and Li Youniang slept soundly in their bed, the heavy sound of snoring reverberating through the room. And at the very edge of their bed, a black shadow stood motionless, blending seamlessly into the quiet darkness, with only two eyes burning like embers.

The shadow seemed thoroughly familiar with the layout of the room, and moved lightly toward the lamp stand. There it scraped a fire-starter alight — and in the flash of stone and fire, a hideous, leering mask appeared and disappeared in the light. After a moment the fire-starter stayed lit. There was a candle on the stand, and it was gently touched to flame. Candlelight leaped up at once, flickering through the room.

The figure walked to the bedside and looked. Guo Zai’s huge, dark, heavyset body lay bare beside the woman — only a pair of short underclothes below. Li Youniang wore only a chest-wrap, and her lower undergarments barely covered her hips and thighs — a great expanse of snow-white skin lay openly exposed, a sight of quiet beauty and intimacy.

The eyes behind the mask seemed about to shoot flames. The figure drew from within its robe a small white ceramic vial, opened it, and with a fingernail scooped out a trace of vivid green paste, then gently held it beneath Li Youniang’s nose. Li Youniang gave a sudden sneeze and slowly opened her eyes.

At the sight of this person, she showed no shock or fear whatsoever — it was only when she realized her own near-undressed state that she gave a soft, startled exclamation and pulled the blanket to cover herself.

“Stop pretending. You arranged for me to see this, did you not?” the figure said coldly.

Li Youniang paused, then suddenly smiled. She gracefully pushed the blanket aside, allowing her beautiful form to be fully visible to that person’s gaze, and said in a soft and languid voice, “Of course I wanted you to see. Do I still need to hide anything from you?”

From within the mask came the sound of grinding teeth, and a cold laugh. “You are deliberately provoking me!”

“Yes!” Li Youniang sat up just like that, unclothed, and stretched her arms wide. Her lovely figure was in full display. “Are you afraid of being provoked? You have cultivated for so long, your heart as still as a dried-up well, with such profound command of the dharma — to your eyes I am nothing but a painted skeleton.”

The face behind the mask was shaved clean and bore the tattoos of a fully ordained monk — this person was a monk!

“You know that is not true!” the figure said furiously.

“Then why won’t you take me away?” Li Youniang would not relent and said coldly, “You can watch me lie beneath this man’s body in compliance, as the wife of the Guo household — and say nothing. Yet you cannot endure a little provocation? I gave you what you wanted from me, and in return what I wanted was for you to see this.”

“I…” The figure was beside itself with fury. With a leap, it was on the bed. It drove a foot hard into Guo Zai’s back. Guo Zai went on snoring without the slightest response. His body was simply so enormous that he trembled with the blow but would not be moved. The figure, infuriated, kicked twice more, then crouched down and pushed hard to roll him toward the edge.

Li Youniang watched coldly, not stirring.

The figure panted and strained for a long while before finally pushing Guo Zai to the edge, then delivered two more fierce kicks, and at last Guo Zai tumbled off the bed with a thunderous crash to the floor.

Even this commotion did not disturb his snoring.

The figure turned back and looked at Li Youniang with a fierce and terrifying expression, then suddenly lunged, and with two sharp sounds ripped away her chest-wrap and underclothes. It threw open its own robe and began to brutally violate her. Li Youniang lay completely still, like a corpse beneath the figure’s movements. Only two crystal teardrops slid silently from the corners of her eyes.

“You…” The figure rolled off her, its excitement gone.

Li Youniang shifted, pulled herself to the inner edge of the bed, curled up with her knees to her chest, her white form folded small.

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then the figure said, “Have you spoken to Guo Zai about what I told you to arrange?”

Li Youniang nodded woodenly. The figure pressed eagerly, “And has he agreed?”

“How could he not agree?” Li Youniang’s face showed a look of cold contempt. “Who are you? Your schemes encompass all under heaven — let alone this man, whom you think such a foolish, filthy pig. You dangled Xingtang Temple as bait, and he had nowhere left to turn. He had no choice but to take it.”

“Very good, very good.” There was eagerness in the figure’s voice. “Once the Emperor takes up residence in Xingtang Temple, my plan will be completely accomplished. Then I will take you far from here, and we will live like immortals!”

Li Youniang’s face remained expressionless. “You have cultivated the dharma for so many years — you are an esteemed monk of high attainment. Are you still envious of immortals? With a woman as impure as me accompanying you, would that not obstruct a great teacher such as yourself from achieving the rank of Arhat?”

The figure said in fury, “No matter how I explain it to you, you refuse to hear it! I have been laying this plan for so many years, and success is only days away. Can you not wait? All right, all right! Stop throwing a child’s tantrum — I still have important business to attend to, and cannot stay here long.”

“You obtained what you came for, and released what you needed to release,” Li Youniang said. “Naturally it is time to go.”

“You…” The figure was full of fury, yet helpless. “One more thing — the Five-Sense Incense I gave you — you must keep it carefully hidden. It was your carelessness that let Lu Luo find it. She nearly caused a catastrophe.”

Li Youniang glanced at him. “To you, what catastrophe was that? It was effortlessly dealt with and erased. A hundred or so lives, after all — it is not as though you haven’t killed before.”

“You…” The figure was left with nothing to say. “Fine, fine, enough of this. That girl is growing up, and she is frighteningly shrewd. Be more careful with her. And — I am going to look in on Lu Luo. That little thing gave me a real fright last time — hiding by the door and nearly killing me with that blade.”

“You…” Li Youniang’s expression flashed with alarm. “Don’t go.”

“It’s all right. Everyone in this house is sleeping deeply. No one will notice.” The figure was indifferent.

“No!” Li Youniang’s voice was firm. “I forbid you to see her. Finish what you came to do and leave my home at once!”

The figure was furious. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know who you are speaking to?”

Li Youniang was absolutely resolved, staring him down without yielding. The figure finally backed down. It gave a contemptuous sound, turned, and walked away.

“Wait!” Li Youniang suddenly called.

“Now what?” the figure said impatiently.

“Get him back up.” Li Youniang pointed at Guo Zai on the floor, watching the figure with a look of cool amusement. “Don’t tell me you expect me to haul him up by myself?”

The figure was speechless.

Guo Zai must have weighed well over three hundred catties. The two of them, between hauling and carrying, barely managed to hoist him back onto the bed, leaving them both drenched in sweat. The figure muttered, “Why go to all this trouble.”

Without another look at Li Youniang, the figure turned and headed toward the door. Li Youniang was immediately alarmed. “Where are you going?”

“To look in on Lu Luo. That girl’s killing instincts have been too strong lately. She is bound to cause trouble. I need to think of something.” As the figure spoke, it reached out and drew back the door bolt.

“No.” Li Youniang scrambled off the bed, only then realizing she was completely unclothed. She hastily snatched an outer robe from the clothing rack and draped it over herself before chasing after the figure.

The figure went straight to Lu Luo’s room, knowing exactly where it was. From within its robe, it drew a blade thin as a cicada’s wing, slipped it into the door crack, and with a light motion, the door came open. At that same moment Li Youniang caught up, and the two jostled briefly in the doorway — when suddenly from inside the room came a murmured word. Both of them immediately went rigid.

Lu Luo was talking in her sleep.

The figure’s expression became strange. It pressed an ear to the doorframe and listened for a moment, then realized it was only sleep-talking.

“Why does the Five-Sense Incense, have so little effect, on this girl?” the figure murmured, then shot Li Youniang a sharp look and said quietly, “This is because of you. She got hold of the Five-Sense Incense and used it on herself — she probably even has the antidote by now.”

Li Youniang argued, “Even if she has the antidote, she wouldn’t take it by herself every night before sleeping…”

The figure’s eyes seemed about to flame. “What do you know? With repeated use of the antidote, even without taking it, one develops a resistance to the Five-Sense Incense. Keep it locked away from now on.”

Li Youniang said nothing. The figure pushed the door open and walked inside. Even knowing Lu Luo was only lightly under, the figure was unconcerned about waking her. It lit the candle without hesitation. The Five-Sense Incense was an extraordinarily potent narcotic — the five senses being sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Once one was affected by the incense, sight went dark, hearing went deaf, smell went blind, taste went numb, touch went still. Mixed into the incense was also hemp — once inhaled, all external sensation vanished completely, but one’s consciousness would sink into a state of blissful, hazy intoxication, in which one’s deepest, most hidden desires would play out like a vivid reality, enacting themselves in an illusory world.

On the day Xuanzang had been caught by the incense, he had dreamed of going to pay respects before Rulai the Buddha. The dozens of pilgrims at the Magistrate’s Temple had each experienced their own grand dream. And Guo Zai had entered blissful visions again and again, even while his wife carried on her trysts with another man.

The figure carried the candle to the bedside. Lu Luo lay deep in sleep, drenched in sweat, her face flushed and feverish. Her small and delicate body was twisted in the brocade blanket, a smile at the corner of her lips, murmuring softly.

“Elder Brother Xuanzang, don’t leave — stay with me a little longer… Mm, are you reciting a sutra? Can you recite the Kama Sutra for me?… If a woman always turns away her lover’s advances, then even the birds of spring will stop their singing, and the cicadas of summer will fall silent. Do you think she doesn’t want to yield? Wrong! In her heart, she has long since silently consented.”

The two stared at each other, both completely stunned.

“Yes — because shame prevents a woman from being the first to caress a man, when a man takes the initiative and caresses a woman first, that woman is exceedingly pleased by it. In matters of love, it is the man who must begin things — it is he who must first petition the woman. And when the man petitions, the woman will listen well and receive him gladly.

“Elder Brother Xuanzang, do you hear — doesn’t the Kama Sutra speak beautifully? You have read so many scriptures — why can you not read the Kama Sutra to me here at my ear?”

The girl’s lovely face bore a gentle smile, her lips murmuring softly, her eyes still faintly holding what might have been tears — whether in her dream it was tenderness or sorrow, no one could say.

“Good heavens—” Li Youniang clapped a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes going wide as she stared at the figure. “Lu Luo — she — she — she has actually fallen in love with Xuanzang…”

The figure’s face turned iron-grey. The fire blazed in its eyes. It let out a heavy, furious sound through its nose, shoved the candle into Li Youniang’s hands, and without a word turned and walked out.

Li Youniang watched his departing figure in a daze, then looked again at her daughter’s dreaming face — so tender, so fragile. Her own slight body could no longer hold itself up. She slowly sank to the floor, both hands pressed over her mouth, and wept in silent, soundless sobs.