The wheels creaked as the carriage approached. Yao Ying glanced at the Buddhist Seven Treasures adorning the carriage—the dazzling crystal, coral, agate, red pearls, and carnelian—then at the smashed fruits scattered on the ground. She stood still and said softly, “Master, I’m fine.”

Tanmoluojia held his prayer beads, also remaining motionless. Between them lay the scattered mess, as a gentle breeze stirred the carriage’s ornamental bells.

Footsteps approached as a guard returned with Yao Ying’s fallen boot. “Princess, I found it.”

Tanmoluojia lifted his gaze and raised his hand toward the guard, gently swaying his prayer beads. The guard froze like a wooden chicken.

More hurried footsteps approached as Li Zhongqian’s tall figure appeared around the corner. He strode quickly toward Yao Ying, noticed the boot in the guard’s hand, and walked over, extending his hand.

The guard held the boot, glancing between Tanmoluojia’s serene face and Li Zhongqian’s dark expression, his eyes wide and unsure where to put his hands and feet.

The atmosphere grew tense for a moment.

Li Zhongqian’s brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Tanmoluojia, his phoenix eyes raising slightly as he discreetly assessed him for several moments before opening his large hand.

“Give it here,” he commanded the guard in a deep voice.

The guard hastily handed over the boot.

Li Zhongqian took it, walked to Yao Ying, and knelt to help her put it on.

“Everyone has dispersed. Let’s head back first. Were you hurt?”

Yao Ying shook her head, adjusted her disheveled hair after putting on the boot, and eagerly pulled Li Zhongqian forward a few steps, smiling, “Brother, wait a moment. This is Master Tanmo who showed me great kindness.”

She turned to look at Tanmoluojia.

“Master, I’ve found my brother!”

He had once prayed for her to reunite with her brother, and now that she had found him, even without the Matangi incident, she would have wanted to bring Li Zhongqian to meet him.

Tanmoluojia gazed intently at Yao Ying.

Though her clothes were dirty and her hair disheveled, she showed no sign of embarrassment. Her face glowed radiantly, her eyes and brows filled with joyful smiles, like countless stars twinkling brilliantly.

He had rarely seen her smile so freely and happily, nor had he ever seen her so intimate with anyone.

Such happiness made the earlier commotion seem like insignificant dust that could be blown away by the wind.

She wasn’t yet eighteen, in the prime of her youth—this was how it should be.

Like the vast sky meeting the sea, like the bright moon, like rippling clear waves stretching thousands of miles, bold and resplendent.

All those heavy pressures and bitter memories should stay far away from her.

Yao Ying held Li Zhongqian’s arm, her face wreathed in smiles.

Li Zhongqian smiled and looked down at her, brushing dust from her hair. Noticing Tanmoluojia’s gaze lingering on Yao Ying’s face, a hint of puzzlement flashed in his eyes as he looked up and met Tanmoluojia’s cool gaze.

He bowed respectfully and said, “My sister was coveted by villains and stranded in the royal court. Thanks to Master’s protection, she escaped. I am deeply grateful and cannot repay such kindness.”

Tanmoluojia came to his senses and replied, “It doesn’t compare to the Princess’s kindness to me. Without the Princess’s help, I couldn’t have offered assistance. Our meeting was destined—all phenomena are empty of inherent existence.”

Yao Ying smiled.

Li Zhongqian laughed, “Master is indeed as my sister described—profound in Buddhist dharma and noble. Since arriving at the royal court, I’ve seen its prosperity and peace. Master is revered by all, with an honored reputation. To protect my sister, rumors spread, making her feel deeply guilty. I too am extremely uneasy. Coming to the holy city is both to thank Master in person for his great kindness and to resolve the Matangi matter…”

He paused meaningfully before continuing, “To avoid tarnishing Master’s reputation, and to prevent incidents like today from happening again.”

The more devout the followers, the more fanatical they could become when provoked. Once incited, they were capable of anything. Every day Li Yao Ying stayed in the royal court added another measure of danger.

They would never allow her to truly defile their god.

On the way to the holy city, Li Zhongqian had observed. Whether in prosperous towns or sparsely populated settlements, Buddhist temples were everywhere. Even nomads’ tents had altars. The more the people revered the Buddha’s son, the less they could accept his deep involvement with a Han woman.

They would never show anything before the Buddha’s son—all their hatred would fall on Yao Ying instead.

Tanmoluojia and Li Zhongqian’s gazes met, their eyes deep as well, calm and unwavering.

“Very well,” he said softly, holding his prayer beads.

That light word carried the weight of mountains.

After she left, she would send a letter saying that once she found her brother, as agreed, she would announce she no longer harbored feelings for him.

He knew this day would come.

Yao Ying stood to the side, shivering slightly as the fruit juice had soaked through her clothes, clinging to her body. The wind made her feel chilly.

Li Zhongqian noticed immediately. “My sister is unwell and somewhat indisposed. I should take her back first, then visit Master at the royal temple later.”

Yao Ying considered for a moment without speaking.

She really shouldn’t go to the royal temple in these clothes.

Bisuo, who had been observing nearby, stepped forward with a smile: “The carriages are ready. The Princess and your brother should go to the royal temple together. After today’s incident, there might still be people hiding in the alleys looking to cause trouble for the Princess. It would be better for the Princess to be cautious.”

Yao Ying showed hesitation.

Bisuo continued, “The courtyard where the Princess stayed is cleaned daily. The Princess and your brother can stay there temporarily. It would also let your brother see where the Princess has lived this past year.”

Yao Ying started slightly and looked toward Tanmoluojia, whose expression remained calm.

Li Zhongqian pondered briefly before nodding in agreement. He wanted to see where Yao Ying had lived.

As everyone prepared to leave, Bisuo invited Yao Ying to go first, but Li Zhongqian declined: “Master is the royal court’s sovereign. My sister and I dare not travel alongside Master. Please, Master, go ahead.”

Bisuo narrowed his eyes.

Tanmoluojia turned, signaling to a guard who approached Yao Ying with a clean white robe.

He turned to look at her: “Put this on.”

Don’t get sick.

With that, he departed, his crimson kasaya catching the sunlight, emanating a cool radiance.

…

After Tanmoluojia left by carriage, Yao Ying and Li Zhongqian waited in a quiet place for a while, making sure no one noticed them before heading to the royal temple.

Yao Ying wore a white robe with a veil covering her face. This time, neither the imperial guards nor the common people recognized her.

Li Zhongqian stared at the white robe with its golden scroll patterns for a while. “The Buddha’s son treated you well?”

Yao Ying nodded: “Master treated me very well.”

“Did he…” Li Zhongqian hesitated.

Yao Ying asked, “Did he what?”

Li Zhongqian smiled, “Nothing.”

He had watched Yao Ying grow up. She never mocked the young men who admired her, but neither did she get close to anyone. At banquets, when young men tried various ways to approach her, she would smile graciously and remain polite, yet maintain an unreachable air of clarity and nobility.

Only with someone she liked would she become playful and coy, showing gentle charm.

In all her years growing up, besides himself as her brother, Li Zhongqian had never seen her show such intimate trust in any man as she did with the Buddha’s son, as if they had known each other for a very long time.

Although she and the Buddha’s son hadn’t exchanged many words just now, their eye contact and her unconscious, distinctly intimate gestures toward him were unmistakable.

And the Buddha’s son’s attention to her was somewhat strange as well.

For some reason, Li Zhongqian suddenly thought of Li Xuanzhen.

Li Xuanzhen had risked his life to escort him to the royal court to reunite with Yao Ying, certainly not just out of guilt. That man was gloomy, obsessive, and unpredictable. After helping the Western Army recapture Guazhou, he would return to find Yao Ying.

Li Zhongqian’s heart sank slightly.

The Buddha’s son was an accomplished monk. Yao Ying greatly revered him. Perhaps he was overthinking things out of concern.

The guard led them around the crowds, bypassing the royal temple through an alley to reach the small courtyard where Yao Ying had lived.

The courtyard was lush with vegetation, thick grape vines hung overhead with crystal-clear clusters of grapes drooping down. The corridor was spotlessly clean, and the earthen walls had ventilation windows, making it bright and tidy.

Yao Ying walked around the courtyard and found everything exactly as she had left it. Even the Buddhist scripture she hadn’t finished reading remained open on the desk, its corners held down by paperweights.

The servant said, “General Ashina ordered us to clean here every day.”

Yao Ying laughed—Bisuo was attentive.

She pulled Li Zhongqian to see her room, telling him about her daily activities, where the guards lived, and which mark on the wall was accidentally left during the guards’ sparring matches.

Li Zhongqian listened quietly, finally patting Yao Ying’s head.

He was relieved to know she had lived well at the royal temple.

Yao Ying said, “Brother, the Buddha’s son truly treated me well. Though the Tanmo clan harbors a deep hatred for the Han people, he still protected me. I damaged his reputation, so naturally, the royal court’s people would hate me. Today’s incident had nothing to do with him.”

“You’re afraid I’ll blame the Buddha’s son?” Li Zhongqian’s phoenix eyes narrowed slightly as he smiled and snorted, “When I couldn’t be by your side, someone was so kind to you, taking such good care of you—I couldn’t be happier. I only feel grateful to him, how could I blame him?”

Yao Ying raised her eyebrows, tugging at Li Zhongqian’s arm: “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m afraid you’ll be unhappy for my sake. Brother, I don’t care at all about their cursing, please don’t take it to heart.”

Li Zhongqian’s expression softened, “Don’t worry, this is the royal court. I won’t clash with those commoners.”

After the siblings changed clothes, a guard came to report that the merchant convoy had arrived. Large carts loaded with silk fabrics, Buddhist scriptures and statues, fine porcelain, and tea leaves were heading toward the royal temple.

Li Zhongqian nodded: “There’s no better time than the present. Let’s resolve everything today.”

…

One by one, heavily laden carts appeared outside the royal temple, forming a long line. The entire street echoed with the sound of camel bells.

Bore received a thick stack of gift lists sent up by Old Qi and ran to the meditation chamber to report.

“Your Majesty, these are the thank-you gifts from Princess Wenzhao’s brother, Lord Xie. The temple gates are filled with their carts!”

Tanmoluojia took the list.

Footsteps continued outside the corridor as the temple’s abbot, disciplinarians, and elders all hurried over, gathering outside the meditation chamber to pressure Tanmoluojia.

Previously, seeing the one-year term was nearly complete, they had subtly hinted to Tanmoluojia to announce Matangi’s departure from the temple, but he had ignored them.

The monks privately discussed among themselves, whispering: Could those rumors about “the King keeping Princess Wenzhao imprisoned in the royal temple as his concubine” be true?

Otherwise, why would the King delay?

A few days ago, a young novice sweeping the courtyard quietly revealed: that the King had gone to Princess Wenzhao’s courtyard and stayed for over two hours!

The monks were uneasy. They wanted to find Princess Wenzhao and persuade her to leave voluntarily rather than overstaying, but the courtyard was heavily guarded by imperial guards. Unable to see the Princess, they could only worry in secret.

Today when the commotion occurred in the square and the Princess’s brother appeared as if from heaven to personally escort her back to the Central Plains, the monks were overjoyed and sprang into action.

The Buddha’s son could no longer delay. Today he must give everyone an explanation publicly.

In the meditation chamber, incense smoke curled upward as sandalwood quietly filled the air.

Tanmoluojia set down the gold-stamped gift list.

Documents piled on the desk—official papers on one side, and the other, petitions from monks and court officials urging him to announce Princess Wenzhao’s departure from the temple.

A guard reported: “Your Majesty, Lord Xie, and Princess Wenzhao request an audience.”

Tanmoluojia was silent for a moment.

“Let them enter.”

Soon, the siblings walked into the meditation chamber side by side.

Yao Ying saw her usual small desk to the left of Tanmoluojia. After paying her respects, she unconsciously walked toward it.

“Ming Yue Nu.”

Li Zhongqian called to her, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

She withdrew her step and sat with Li Zhongqian, smiling at Tanmoluojia, who sat formally with a solemn Buddhist countenance.

Tanmoluojia’s expression remained indifferent.

Li Zhongqian went straight to the point: “The Buddha’s son is compassionate. This past year, my sister has caused you much trouble. Now that the one-year term is complete, we siblings cannot shamelessly trouble the Buddha’s son any longer. I’ve come today to formally escort my sister from the temple. Your protection’s kindness, I will never forget and can hardly repay. Today I can only show a token of my gratitude. In the future, if the Buddha’s son has any requests, I dare not refuse.”

Hearing these words, Yao Ying couldn’t help but look up at him.

Since when did he speak so politely?

Li Zhongqian looked at Tanmoluojia.

Tanmoluojia raised his eyes, “The Duke of Weiguo is too kind.”

His gaze fell on Yao Ying.

Yao Ying was also looking at him. Their eyes met, and she blinked at him.

Tanmoluojia looked at her, speaking word by word: “The Princess has also shown me kindness… The Princess will always be my guest.”

A guest from afar must eventually leave.

Footsteps sounded at the door as Bore stood outside, saying: “Your Majesty, the ceremony is prepared.”

Tanmoluojia remained silent.

Thinking he hadn’t heard, Bore repeated: “Your Majesty, the ceremony in the main hall is prepared, all monks have gathered. The abbot requests your instruction—can we begin?”

Li Zhongqian looked at Tanmoluojia for a while.

Tanmoluojia lowered his eyes and stood up.

“Begin.”

Li Zhongqian and Yao Ying rose as well. The group walked silently through the quiet corridor, past the forest of Buddhist stupas, and down the gentle steps. As they neared the main hall, Bore gestured for Li Zhongqian to follow him, leading him to the Buddha hall through another entrance.

Yao Ying nodded to Li Zhongqian, indicating all was well.

He walked away with furrowed brows: “If anything happens, call out loudly.”

“Nothing will happen, Brother.”

Yao Ying watched Li Zhongqian leave, then glanced at Tanmoluojia walking ahead. She quickened her pace to catch up, saying: “Master, I’m tired. Can we rest a while?”

Tanmoluojia paused, looking down at her.

Yao Ying gazed up at him expectantly.

Tanmoluojia stopped, glancing at the guards behind them.

The guards understood, stepping back and standing still.

Yao Ying exhaled, leaning against the railing and fanning herself. “Master, you should sit and rest too.”

Tanmoluojia stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the distant stupa forest bathed in brilliant golden light.

He was the tired one.

She looked normal, showing no signs of fatigue.

“I’m fine,” he said softly.

Yao Ying glanced at the hem of his kasaya, unable to tell if his leg had improved, though she had noticed his slightly slow movements when descending the steps earlier.

“Master has been conducting ceremonies every day lately, you should rest more…”

She smiled at him.

“I’ve troubled you today. Master is so busy, yet still has to deal with my affairs… Once my trouble is resolved, Master can have some peace.”

Tanmoluojia gazed intently at the sharp spire of the reliquary stupa.

“The Princess has never been trouble,” he suddenly said.

Yao Ying started, looking up at Tanmoluojia. He stood straight at the railing, his jade eyes deep yet clear, gleaming brightly. His features were as if carved from stone, his crimson kasaya filled with wind, sleeves fluttering. His exposed shoulder was perfectly proportioned, gleaming with a golden wheat color in the setting sun. For the first time, his large kasaya clearly outlined his tall figure.

He was the sovereign of the royal court, the Buddha’s son of the royal temple.

A young novice came to report: “Your Majesty, everything is ready.”

Tanmoluojia made a sound of acknowledgment and turned to leave.

Yao Ying rose to follow him, secretly sighing. She had wanted him to rest a while, but he wouldn’t relax for even a moment.

Incense smoke filled the main hall, which was packed with monks, yet not a single cough could be heard—a deathly silence, the atmosphere solemn and dignified.

Yao Ying walked into the main hall with a lowered head through the main entrance. Hundreds of sharp gazes immediately surged toward her like a tide. Unhurried, she walked forward, pressed her palms together in respect, and knelt on the meditation cushion.

Whispers came from the corridor as the monks made their way. Tanmoluojia entered the hall surrounded by guard knights, sat on the high platform, and looked down at everyone below with a stern expression.

The abbot shook the bronze bell. The assembly of monks turned to glare at Yao Ying with angry eyes.

Someone shouted angrily:

“Foolish one, have you abandoned your infatuation with the Buddha’s son?!”

Yao Ying pressed her palms together and bowed, “This disciple has already abandoned deluded thoughts.”

“Truly?”

Yao Ying said: “Before I was confused and ignorant, but after studying the sutras, my mind has opened and my heart’s knot has untied.”

A monk demanded: “Are you willing to shave your head and become a nun, taking refuge in our Buddha?”

Yao Ying replied: “This disciple cannot leave the secular world.”

The monk sneered: “Your samadhi practice was meant to transcend worldly troubles. With lustful thoughts unremoved, dust cannot be escaped. Since you’re unwilling to become a nun, leave the temple immediately from today, and take care of yourself henceforth.”

Yao Ying agreed, slowly exhaling.

With the one-year agreement resolved, Tanmoluojia would no longer bear the criticism of indulging her.

As the burden lifted from her heart, she was about to stand when suddenly a wave of shocked discussion filled the hall. Sharp intakes of breath rose here and there, and the gazes falling on her suddenly became more severe, pressing down like thousands of pounds of force, making her feel breathless.

Yao Ying was bewildered. She raised her head and froze.

A shadow fell over her, enveloping her entire being. Tanmoluojia had somehow descended from the high platform and was walking toward her step by step, his jade eyes calm as deep pools as he looked down at her.

His gaze made her scalp tingle. She couldn’t help holding her breath, her fingers trembling slightly.

The monks looked around in confusion.

The abbot frowned slightly, gesturing to Yao Ying: “Princess Wenzhao, you may leave now…”

Yao Ying looked at Tanmoluojia.

The hall fell silent—a pin drop could be heard.

Tanmoluojia gazed at Yao Ying for a long while, dark currents seeming to surge in his eyes before being completely concealed, leaving them calm as an ancient well.

He only looked at her, silent, then turned and left a moment later.

The monks chanted sutras in unison, Buddhist hymns rose, and bells and chimes filled the hall.

Young novices cheered quietly.

News of Matangi’s departure from the royal temple quickly spread within and without.

Outside the hall, Li Zhongqian stood with the guards, watching Tanmoluojia’s retreating figure. His pupils contracted sharply as his brows furrowed tightly.

…

Tanmoluojia returned to the meditation chamber.

His steps were composed at first, but once back in the small courtyard with only his confidants around, his steps became unsteady. As he stepped onto the stone stairs, he stumbled, nearly falling.

Bisuo knew something was wrong and helped him back to his room. Despite the summer heat, his wrists were ice cold.

The physician hurriedly arrived, gave Tanmoluojia acupuncture, and helped regulate his breath.

Only when the sky darkened did Tanmoluojia’s complexion improve slightly.

The physician muttered: “Didn’t I tell you all to keep His Majesty in good spirits?”

Bisuo said nothing, sent the physician away, and covered Tanmoluojia with a thin blanket. The sleeping man suddenly opened his eyes and stared straight at him.

“Ming Yue Nu,” he said softly, his gaze vacant.

Bisuo was stunned.

Just then, several knocks came from outside as Bore brought a letter and a box: “General, these are from the Western Army Commander.”

“What Western Army Commander?”

Bisuo took the letter, saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope, and started, jumping to his feet.

“Where is the person?”

Bore said confusedly: “It was just delivered. The person should still be outside the royal temple.”

Bisuo rushed out of the royal temple, riding quickly to catch up with the messenger: “Western Army Commander, please wait!”

Several fine horses stopped, and their rider turned back—hair black as lacquer, radiantly beautiful. “General?”

Bisuo stared at her for a long time.

So that was it.

From today on, she was no longer Princess Wenzhao under the Buddha’s son’s protection, but the Western Army Commander allied with the royal court. The many criticisms would no longer fall on the Buddha’s son.

She had been planning for Luojia.

Yao Ying tentatively asked: “Is it also inappropriate for me to write to the Buddha’s son as Western Army Commander?”

Bisuo smiled and shook his head: “Please, Commander, come with me into the temple.”

Yao Ying showed hesitation.

Bisuo said: “His Majesty is ill.”

Yao Ying’s brows furrowed slightly as she turned her horse around.