Incense smoke curled through the spacious meditation chamber.

Through the misty azure smoke, Yao Ying and Tanmoluojia’s eyes met. After a moment’s gaze, she felt dazed, an inexplicable feeling welling up from deep within.

Tanmoluojia’s expression was cool and detached, without a trace of worldly warmth. Such a gaze seemed unlike him.

“My King.”

Bisuo bowed to Tanmoluojia, breaking the stillness. “Princess Wenzhao is unharmed.”

Yao Ying came back to her senses, her eyes curving slightly as she smiled at Tanmoluojia, indicating she was fine.

She had already escaped danger when the monk soldiers found her.

Her eyes were large and graceful; even without smiling, they sparkled with life. When she did smile, the corners of her eyes lifted slightly, like a gentle breeze bringing spring. Under the snow-capped peaks, thousands of peach and apricot trees bloomed in competition, suddenly painting the landscape in spring’s splendor.

The royal court’s winters were cold and long, but when spring came with its flowers, it was just as brilliant and dazzling.

Tanmoluojia shifted his gaze to the long table, where an unrolled scripture lay open, its golden characters still fresh.

In the silence, hurried footsteps sounded outside the meditation chamber. Yuanjue clasped his hands in salute at the door: “My King, we’ve caught them all, not one escaped.”

Yao Ying sighed in relief and said, “Since they’ve been caught, I’ll return now and not disturb the Master and General.”

Tanmoluojia and Bisuo would surely need to interrogate the guards about who had ordered them, and since she was safe now, she could return to her quarters to await news.

She turned to leave.

“Princess, please stay.”

Yao Ying turned back. Tanmoluojia, who had just asked her to remain, didn’t look at her but instead addressed Bisuo: “Since they are your subordinates, question them yourself.”

Bisuo paused, then respectfully acknowledged. He gave Yao Ying a long look before withdrawing. Before descending the steps, he glanced back at the meditation chamber.

Yao Ying still stood by the door, fingers clutching the white cloak he had draped around her, her eyelashes fluttering with uncertainty.

Tanmoluojia walked toward her step by step.

Yao Ying looked up at him, unconsciously stepping back.

Yuanjue lowered the felt curtain, its golden scroll patterns flowing, cutting off Bisuo’s view.

Bisuo’s expression was complex as he stood lost in thought for a moment before quickly leaving.

As the curtain fell, the meditation chamber plunged into dimness, with only the faint fragrance of incense.

Tanmoluojia approached Yao Ying, his gaze like moonlight on a quiet night – deep and serene, gentle yet cool. Though not overbearing, it carried an undeniable force, as if able to pierce through all her thoughts to her deepest heart.

This version of Tanmoluojia made Yao Ying feel somewhat breathless. She watched him, unconsciously straightening her spine.

Tanmoluojia lowered his gaze to look at her, his eyes sweeping over her disheveled hair.

She loved beauty – even in the snow mountains she would check her reflection in the ice, keeping herself neat every day.

If she hadn’t drifted to this far-off foreign land, she should have been a carefree young lady surrounded by family.

“Are you injured?” he asked softly.

Before his question, she hadn’t noticed, but now her shoulder and neck began to ache. Earlier, when the guard caught up with her, he had gripped her shoulder and dragged her a long way.

Tanmoluojia didn’t miss the flash of pain across her face. He gestured with his chin for her to sit by the table.

As he returned to his gentle manner, Yao Ying relaxed and walked to the long table. She sat cross-legged, curiously glancing at the scripture on the table, noting it was in his handwriting.

Tanmoluojia stood behind her and bent down.

A breath of cool incense drew near. Yao Ying froze, then realized he was examining the marks on her neck. She lowered her head, gathering up her scattered braid.

“Is it broken skin?”

Yao Ying couldn’t see her neck and turned to ask Tanmoluojia, her bright eyes full of trust – a kind of closeness and admiration like that shown to an elder.

When others looked at him, their gazes held reverence, worship, fervor, and veneration.

Her gaze lacked others’ intensity, containing something different that he couldn’t quite name.

Tanmoluojia made a sound of acknowledgment as he examined her neck.

Purple bruises marked her snow-white skin, the fingerprints stark against her jade-like complexion. The marks extended from her neck into her collar, evidence of how roughly she had been grabbed and dragged.

Tanmoluojia turned away, returning shortly with a gilt shell box which he placed on the table.

Yao Ying thanked him and took the box, gathering her braid to one side as she twisted to apply the medicine. After struggling for a while, unsure if she was reaching the right spots, her neck burning and making her hiss in pain.

After a moment, a cool breeze swept past her.

Tanmoluojia sat beside her, his kasaya sleeve brushing as he took the shell box from her hands. He leaned forward, raising his hand to untie her white cloak.

Yao Ying looked up in surprise, turning her neck and crying out in pain.

“Don’t move.”

Tanmoluojia spoke softly as he removed the white cloak and tossed it onto the carpet beside them. His fingers parted her collar.

As he had suspected, while her neck showed only bruising, her shoulder bore deeper fingerprints that had broken the skin.

Unable to see her injuries clearly, she applied most of the medicine to uninjured areas.

Tanmoluojia apologized for the impropriety, then pulled her collar slightly open, placing a cloth to cover the unmarked skin. He dipped his fingers in the medicine and applied it to her wounds, his gaze straight ahead, his breathing steady.

Yao Ying lowered her head to make it easier for him.

“Why did the Master ask me to stay?”

She asked.

Tanmoluojia remained silent.

Up close, his presence remained faint, barely perceptible.

Yao Ying raised her eyes to look at him. From the side, his brow was full and well-defined, his features clear and distinct. The short stubble on his head looked like pale lotus roots, appearing somewhat prickly.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it felt as prickly as lotus stems when touched.

She immediately caught herself: what sacrilege – she wouldn’t dare touch the Buddha’s Son’s head. Prajña would be furious.

As her thoughts wandered, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over her. Her consciousness grew hazy. Yao Ying shook her head slightly, forcing herself to stay alert as she slowly recounted what had happened earlier.

Tanmoluojia must have kept her behind to ask about the guards.

“General Ashina mentioned questioning the guards yesterday. Someone must have leaked information before for the Regent to have been ambushed. When A’qing and the others returned last night, I questioned them carefully – they shouldn’t have made any mistakes earlier.”

“The person who leaked the information was likely someone from the Holy City. I was planning to inform the General, so when the guards came with the bronze token, I thought they were sent by him… I became suspicious when they acted furtively, and sure enough, the guard had ill intentions, throwing powder at me, but I dodged…”

“A’qing held off three of them; I just needed to reach somewhere with monk soldiers to call for help…”

Toward the end of her account, Yao Ying’s spirit lifted slightly as she added, “Oh right, thanks to Garuda, and thanks to the bronze whistle General Ashina gave me.”

She looked down, pulling a bronze whistle from her sleeve and holding it out for Tanmoluojia to see.

“Master, this is…”

Before she could finish speaking, her vision darkened and her hands fell limply as her body collapsed.

Tanmoluojia’s wrist lifted to catch her arm.

Yao Ying fell into his embrace, her forehead brushing his chin. Though it lasted only an instant, the soft touch of skin lingered.

Tanmoluojia held Yao Ying, the young woman’s body soft in his arms, her face buried in his crimson kasaya, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

Even through several thick layers of clothing, a faint fragrance seeped through.

Soft and delicate in his arms, her form perfectly proportioned.

“Master…”

Yao Ying murmured.

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes, remaining perfectly still.

The room’s fragrance rose and fell.

After a while, Tanmoluojia released Yao Ying, his hand supporting her neck as he laid her on the felt carpet. He brought quilts and soft pillows to make the sleeping woman comfortable, gazed at her for a moment, then gently rolled up her sleeve to check her pulse.

She had said the guard threw powder at her – she must have inhaled some, and now the drug was taking effect.

Tanmoluojia’s jade eyes lowered as he quietly watched her.

Yao Ying’s brows furrowed slightly.

Tanmoluojia lifted her, placing several soft pillows behind her so she could sleep on her side without pressing on her injured shoulder.

She curled into a ball, her brows gradually smoothing.

Tanmoluojia stood up and retrieved the bronze whistle that had rolled from her palm.

This whistle was his old possession. Last night he had instructed Yuanjue to send it to her, having the falconer teach her how to use it. If Garuda lost his temper with her hawk again, she could blow the whistle to warn him.

Tanmoluojia placed the whistle in the small brocade bag at her waist.

It was good that it had proved useful.

…

After questioning the guards, Bisuo returned to report to the meditation chamber.

Yuanjue told him Yao Ying hadn’t left.

“Princess Wenzhao is still inside? All this time, she hasn’t come out?”

Yuanjue nodded.

Bisuo looked at the tightly closed curtain, his brows deeply furrowed.

A guard went in to announce him. The curtain lifted as Tanmoluojia came out, his eyes indicating Bisuo should follow him to the small hall at the other end of the corridor.

Bisuo was startled but followed.

“The investigation is clear – it was indeed my subordinate. Someone bribed him to hide Princess Wenzhao. He knew he couldn’t take the Princess out of the temple, so he planned to drug her and hide her in an abandoned cave.”

At this point, Bisuo paused and smiled slightly.

“The Princess was very alert. When Xie Qing was fighting them, she ran. Though she was caught again, she quickly blew the falcon training whistle, attracting Garuda and nearby monk soldiers. Garuda chased away one guard, and when the others saw the monk soldiers coming, they knew the plan was exposed and didn’t dare stay, abandoning their mission. The monk soldiers caught up – none escaped.”

When Bisuo anxiously asked Tanmoluojia to deploy monk soldiers for the search, Yao Ying had already escaped from the guards.

After hearing his report, Tanmoluojia’s expression remained unchanged as he suddenly asked, “Why did they want to hide Princess Wenzhao?”

Bisuo raised his head, looking directly at Tanmoluojia.

“Because of you.”

Tanmoluojia remained silent.

“My King…” Bisuo hesitated before continuing, “They wanted to hide Princess Wenzhao to threaten you, to force you to accept their conditions.”

Tanmoluojia was the Buddha’s Son, a divine figure in the common people’s hearts. The noble houses dared to confine him, using the monarch to command the realm, but they would never dare harm him. So they targeted those he cared about. That’s why whenever the court was unstable, Princess Chiema’s residence would strengthen its defenses.

Unexpectedly, this time the noble houses chose to use Yao Ying as a hostage.

Bisuo smiled meaninglessly: “It’s not surprising… My King, besides the royal court’s safety, you have few attachments…”

One could say he had almost no attachments. He held the world in his heart, exhausting himself for the masses, becoming both Buddha and demon for their sake, doing what he could while accepting heaven’s will, setting aside life and death without personal desire.

The noble houses had no way to deal with him because he had no weaknesses.

Bisuo’s tone changed: “But you asked me to escort Princess Wenzhao back to Han territory… My King, this is the first time you’ve asked me to handle a personal matter.”

Previously, Tanmoluojia’s various accommodations for Li Yao Ying could be explained as repaying her kindness, helping and protecting her just as he cared for all people.

But when he specifically instructed Bisuo, Bisuo keenly sensed that something was different.

If Li Yao Ying had truly been kidnapped, what would the consequences have been?

This time the noble houses had stumbled upon it by accident – what about next time?

Bisuo clenched his fists as he gazed at Tanmoluojia.

“My King, the reason common people love to discuss the story of the Matanga girl… is because Ananda didn’t waver, because the Matanga girl ultimately achieved enlightenment, severed her infatuation, and became one of the ordained.”

“It’s a beautiful tale, so both within and outside the ordained community, no one hesitates to mention it.”

“If the Matanga girl had succeeded…” Bisuo’s expression grew solemn as he enunciated each word, “she would have borne the shame of seducing Ananda into corruption. She would have been cursed and reviled by Ananda’s followers, becoming a target of hatred, despised and resented, trampled upon by all.”

“She would have been seen as a demon, humiliated by the world, cast into the dust, unable to rise again for lifetimes to come.”

“Fanatical followers would have torn her to pieces.”

His words fell heavily, each like precious jade.

Tanmoluojia stood beneath a mural depicting Buddhist scripture stories, his expression deep in thought.

Bisuo exhaled and said, “My King, I will be more vigilant and not let such things happen again. I’ll escort Princess Wenzhao back.”

He turned to leave.

Tanmoluojia called him back.

Bisuo turned around.

“Princess Wenzhao will stay here tonight, and tomorrow as well,” Tanmoluojia said with his back turned, his tone calm but carrying an implicit authority, “until the assembly to establish the Regent is finished.”

In other words, until Li Yao Ying’s safety was assured.

Bisuo’s mouth opened and closed before he sighed helplessly.

Tanmoluojia continued: “Issue the order to close the city gates.”

“From this moment, in and around the Holy City, entry is permitted but exit is forbidden. If the four armies outside the city grow restless, let them enter the barbican but do not attack.”

“Invite the lords to enter the royal palace.”

Bisuo’s heart tightened as he acknowledged solemnly.

The time had come to close the net.