The snow had stopped. The Buddhist temples and monasteries, built along the mountainside, stood majestically amidst a pristine blanket of white. The pagodas soared high, their glazed pinnacles reflecting the brilliant post-snow sunlight.

The commoners outside the temple gates hadn’t dispersed. They knelt in the snow, praying devoutly day and night. Bisuo stood outside the hall, raising his head to take in the magnificent splendor.

Prayer banners of various styles, covered in pictures and text, filled the corridors and courtyards. The bitter wind violently whipped the banners, creating a scattered rustling sound throughout the royal temple. These were all prayer banners seeking blessings for Yao Ying.

She had suddenly fallen into a deep sleep, her pulse weak. The physicians had never encountered such a strange ailment. Even the Tianzhu royal doctor was baffled – he had already cured Yao Ying’s old illness, and she had been diligently taking her medicine. During this period, she hadn’t suffered any serious internal injuries, her body was no different from normal people’s. How could she suddenly fall into an unending coma? Unable to find the cause of her unconsciousness, they naturally had no way to prescribe medicine. They could only brew some qi-replenishing soups to feed her.

After the snow, the first clear skies brought long-awaited mild weather to the royal court. The great river thawed, and glacier meltwater rushed downstream. Spring approached, new shoots sprouted green, and both riverbanks teemed with vitality. Yet she remained ice-cold, showing no signs of life.

Li Zhongqian said Yao Ying had been like this several years ago. At that time, the doctors had advised him to prepare for her funeral. His heart had turned to ashes, but unexpectedly, a few days later, Yao Ying miraculously awoke and returned to normal, immediately eating two bowls of hot duck oil noodles. The guards remembered that when the assassin attacked, Yao Ying had similarly fainted, barely clinging to life just like now, but quickly recovered.

Yuanjue said hopefully, “Perhaps Princess Wenzhao was too happy and fainted from emotional excitement. She’ll be better in a few days.”

Now three days had passed, and Yao Ying still hadn’t awakened.

Bisuo turned and entered the inner hall. The guards stood outside the felt curtain, their eyes red-rimmed, utterly dejected.

He continued walking inside. From beneath the lowered felt curtain came roaring sounds. Li Zhongqian’s face was grim as he pointed at several Han physicians who had rushed from various regions, urging them to brew medicine. The physicians carefully responded with agreement.

Bisuo didn’t disturb Li Zhongqian. He walked around the screen and lifted the beaded curtain.

A wave of stifling warmth hit his face, the charcoal fire crackling. Yao Ying’s body was ice-cold, so Tanmolouqie had people light braziers. The room was as warm as spring, causing even the dried branches in the bronze vases to sprout green shoots, yet her body remained cold.

The felt rugs were covered with prayer banners, filling the entire floor.

A figure knelt before the Buddha statue with his back to Bisuo, one hand holding prayer beads, the other a brush, writing prayers on the banners one stroke at a time.

May Buddha’s compassion protect and bless.

All Bodhisattvas Mahasattvas, Mahaprajnaparamita.

Infinite life, infinite fortune.

Fortune and longevity are forever peaceful.

He wrote the sutras repeatedly – in Sanskrit, in Chinese, in Turkic. His robes were stained with ink, his fingers twisted and cramping, bleeding from abrasions, yet he didn’t stop.

Bisuo stared at Tanmolouqie in shock.

He had never seen Luoqie like this before.

Luoqie appeared calm as ever, but this calmness was different from before. Like molten lava trapped in ice, ready to burst forth at any moment and burn everything to ash.

He copied sutras without rest or sleep, having lost all reason, his thoughts wild – he had nearly gone mad.

Bisuo’s nose stung with emotion.

After experiencing life and death, weathering trials and tribulations, they finally glimpsed a ray of dawn. Yao Ying, who had always been by his side, had collapsed before his eyes – how could Luoqie not go mad?

When a prayer banner was completed, Yuanjue, whose eyes were swollen like mountains, came forward to take it out and hang it up.

All those banners fluttering in the wind before the hall were written by Tanmolouqie’s hand.

From the holy city to nearby towns and tribes, all the common people joined in raising prayer banners. If one could look down on the royal court from above, they would see banners large and small floating across settlements and city-states, people of different faiths praying to their gods, beseeching Princess Wenzhao to return to their king’s side.

“Your Majesty…” Bisuo’s chest tightened, “You haven’t closed your eyes for days. Please rest awhile.”

Tanmolouqie raised his head, his jade eyes vacant, devoid not just of worldly cares but of life itself.

He gazed at Yao Ying on the bed, her sleeping face peaceful yet without a trace of breath, his right hand’s fingers dripping blood.

Why wouldn’t she wake up?

Tanmolouqie reached out and grabbed her ice-cold hand beneath the brocade quilt, gripping it tightly, trying to warm her with his body heat.

She didn’t move, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned as if smiling.

Tanmolouqie stared at her, blood flowing from his fingers into her palm. Afraid of staining her, he took a handkerchief and gently wiped it clean, then bent down to kiss her cold palm.

“Have you heard? They say she prayed before Buddha, offering her life in exchange for mine?”

His voice was low as if emerging from underground.

Bisuo’s heart skipped a beat. “Your Majesty, those are just rumors.”

Folk rumors said Princess Wenzhao had prayed before the Buddha hall for Tanmolouqie’s blessing, willing to exchange her life for his. Buddha was moved by her devoted love, so Tanmolouqie miraculously comprehended the martial arts technique, while she immediately passed away.

Tanmolouqie knelt beside the bed, his jade eyes like the perpetually cloud-shrouded snow mountain peak, desolate.

Near death, he had seen various terrifying scenes of the Avici Hell and various magnificent sights of the Pure Land. He saw another self, Tanmolouqie struggling forward amid internal and external difficulties, persisting with difficulty, finally walking through life alone.

That Luoqie had never met her.

In the dream, he was about to die, with nowhere in the world to return to.

Suddenly, a calling voice drifted over, stopping his steps, calling back his consciousness.

He remembered – in this life, he wasn’t that Luoqie who had died sitting in the royal temple. He had met a woman who came to the royal court from ten thousand li away. She stood beneath the dunes, disheveled and slightly trembling, and called out to him.

“Luoqie.”

I came for you.

Tanmolouqie’s memories revived – he wasn’t alone, she was waiting for him.

He awoke from death’s illusion, endured the torment of the technique, and survived.

But she was gone.

As sudden as her arrival.

Like a fresh breeze, like floating clouds, not caring what tremendous waves she had stirred in his heart.

He had beseeched Buddha, copied sutras, summoned all the physicians…

Still, she wouldn’t wake.

Tanmolouqie held Yao Ying’s hand, placing her palm on his head.

Before, she had loved to examine his head, never getting enough of looking. Later when she grew bolder, she would secretly touch it now and then. When embracing and kissing him, her face flushed, cloud-like hair disheveled, slender waist twisting in his grip, her fingertips would secretly climb up to his head, gently caressing. Sometimes she would even kiss it, leaving several moist kisses. He sometimes couldn’t help wondering if she would be disappointed after his hair grew back.

His stubble had grown – didn’t she like to touch it? Why wouldn’t she wake up?

Li Zhongqian said she had been like this before, but never slept this long.

So long that she might never wake again.

He lowered his head, burying his face in Yao Ying’s loose hair, closing his eyes.

A fear he had never known before viciously seized his heart.

He was afraid.

Tanmolouqie tightly embraced Yao Ying’s cold body and fell into a deep sleep.

He no longer copied sutras or chanted them. He watched over her, bathed her, combed her hair, today like this, tomorrow, day after day, year after year.

Time flowed on, youth passed in an instant.

It seemed like just the blink of an eye, yet also like an eternity had passed.

Suddenly, she in his arms made a faint murmur, her eyelashes trembling.

She had returned.

Joy filled Tanmolouqie’s eyes.

The next moment, he saw himself waiting beside the bed, decrepit with age, like a guttering candle, his face covered in wrinkles.

He had waited for her an entire lifetime.

The wind blew through the cracks into the inner hall, the candle stand emitted a wisp of smoke, the flame extinguished, cold moonlight flooding past the felt curtain.

Tanmolouqie awakened from the dream, looking at Yao Ying with her eyes tightly closed.

Li Zhongqian had told the guards this had happened several times… When she woke, it was with such relief… She told him and Li Zhongqian to take good care of themselves, her eyes showing no surprise, only worry and reluctance… The last time she woke, she had acted as if nothing was wrong, smiling and saying it was just a minor ailment… She had stopped Li Zhongqian from killing Li Xuanzhen…

His jade eyes widened slightly, dark currents surging silently in their depths as he stared at her unblinking.

No matter where she came from, no matter who sent her to his side, no matter how many secrets she carried.

Since she had come, she wasn’t allowed to leave.

If she dared to go, he would find her and bring her back.

Kill any god who blocked the way, kill any demon who stood in his path.

…

Yao Ying had slept a very long sleep.

This sleep was deep, heavy, black and sweet, solid and substantial, like sleeping peacefully as a child under the protection of mother and elder brother. Back then she had been carefree, only needing to obediently take her medicine and eat her meals.

Later she realized her situation and began to struggle against fate time and again.

The elder brother lived, the monk lived, the Western Regions were restored, and chaos was settled. She felt relieved, her body floating lightly among soft clouds, drifting further and higher, memories gradually fading.

Pain, hardship, bitterness, joy – everything was leaving her behind.

She felt somewhat tired and wanted to continue sleeping like this, but deep in her mind a voice faintly reminded her that she needed to wake up.

She couldn’t resign herself to fate. If once wasn’t enough, try again. No matter how many times, she would never give up hope.

She had to live on.

A beam of golden light broke through the clouds and mist. She felt as if an invisible force pulled her back, her tired body once again filling with strength, warmth flowing through her limbs and bones, followed by soreness and stiffness.

Countless voices flooded her ears. Anxious, urgent, fearful, chattering.

Yao Ying slowly opened her eyes, meeting a pair of blood-red eyes.

He knelt beside the bed, his face gaunt, appearance withered, jade eyes staring at her unblinking, vast smoky seas in his pupils, dark currents surging silently, cold gleams rising bit by bit.

Yao Ying raised her hand, “Monk…”

As soon as she spoke, she found her voice hoarse, her throat burning.

Tanmolouqie straightened up, gazing at her, his aura ice-cold, slowly drawing closer, pulling her entire person into his embrace. His arms tightened gradually, using very gentle force, afraid of hurting her, yet his bearing grew increasingly cold and fierce as if he would never let go again.

“The Princess is awake!”

The stunned crowd reacted. Bisuo, Mengdatipo, and the others let out long sighs of relief. Yuanjue screamed, running around the room in chaos, finally kneeling toward the east, kowtowing to thank the Buddha and gods.

The sound transmitted outside, followed by waves of cheers.

Li Zhongqian rushed in, darting to the bedside, his beard disheveled, eye sockets deep blue, features somewhat fierce. After staring at Yao Ying for a long while, the anger on his face gradually dispersed.

“Are you hungry?”

He asked, his voice gentle.

The guards stood behind him wiping their eyes.

Yao Ying came to her senses, indeed feeling ravenous.

Tanmolouqie released her, first letting the physician come forward to check her pulse. Seeing the physician nod, he signaled to Yuanjue with his eyes.

Throughout the entire process, he didn’t say a word.

Yuanjue ran out, returning shortly with a large bowl – steaming hot noodle soup, each noodle distinct and snow-white, the broth clear to the bottom, soft duck oil spreading into golden flowers on the surface, the fragrant aroma wafting up.

Yao Ying hadn’t expected to see the long-missed duck oil hot noodle soup upon waking. After rinsing her mouth, she took the chopsticks and began eating. The noodles were freshly made, refreshing, and chewy, and the broth was fragrant and delicious.

Tanmolouqie and Li Zhongqian watched her eat the noodle soup without a word.

Yao Ying finished, put down her bowl and chopsticks, and smiled slightly: “I’m fine now. You’ve all been tired these past days, go rest.”

Everyone’s hearts settled back in their stomachs. The physician checked her pulse again, clicking his tongue in wonder, and they all dispersed. Li Zhongqian gave her a few instructions and then left with the guards.

The room quieted down, the beaded curtain swaying gently, leaving only Tanmolouqie and Yao Ying facing each other.

Yao Ying knew he must have been frightened, her eyes curving slightly: “Luoqie, I…”

She had informed Bisuo that something might happen to her, instructing him to take good care of Luoqie. She had just asked Bisuo and Yuanjue – these past few days, Luoqie wouldn’t listen to any words of advice.

Before she could finish speaking, Tanmolouqie suddenly bent down toward her like a predatory beast, arms spreading to embrace her entire person, his palm covering the back of her neck, firmly embedding her in his embrace, pressing tightly together, their faces touching, inseparable.

Only like this could he confirm she had truly returned, that this wasn’t his dream.

Li Zhongqian said she had eaten noodle soup that time when she woke, so he had people prepare noodle soup every day, waiting for her to wake and eat it, afraid that if he hadn’t done something right, hadn’t done something properly, she wouldn’t want to return.

His Buddha had taken pity on him.

The man holding her tight had tense muscles, his whole body trembling slightly, his kisses on her temple burning hot, tender, full of fear.

Yao Ying froze slightly, patting Tanmolouqie’s back.

“I’m fine… Luoqie, like I said, I just needed to sleep it off.”

She raised her hand to touch his face, her fingertips meeting wetness. She was completely stunned.

Yao Ying pushed Tanmolouqie back.

He stared at her directly, his features like a painting, thick eyelashes trembling, deep pupils brewing glistening tears.

Tanmolouqie was crying.

She had never seen him cry before.

What did Buddha look like when crying?

He originally wasn’t of the mortal world, but for her sake, he had experienced all seven emotions and six desires – joy, anger, worry, thought, sorrow, fear, and surprise.

A tremendous boom exploded in Yao Ying’s mind, shattering into pieces. She raised her hands to cup Tanmolouqie’s face, kissing him tenderly and lovingly.

Tanmolouqie closed his eyes briefly, containing his tears, holding her tight, his arms like iron clamps restraining her: “Don’t scare me like that again.”

He couldn’t bear it.

He held her so tight that Yao Ying could barely breathe. She nodded in his embrace, her voice muffled: “I won’t.”

Tanmolouqie was still trembling, “Mingyue Nu, was your fainting this time related to me?”

His tone was flat, not asking a question.

Yao Ying raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

Tanmolouqie’s eyes rippled with moisture, his gaze heavy as mountains pressing down.

Yao Ying opened her mouth.

Tanmolouqie lowered his head, kissing her lips, emanating an overwhelming presence, deepening, sucking, clinging tightly without letting go, his scorching breath mixing with hers.

Yao Ying tasted salt.

After a long while, he finally released her, breathing heavily.

In the candlelight, his gaze was deep as night, his ink-brushed features half-light half-shadow, like a Vajra Yaksha – half Buddha, half-demon, tears glittering, coldly majestic.

Yao Ying stared at him dumbfounded.

“You understand Haidu Aling well, you also understand the Wakhan Khan. Even before meeting me, you understood me. You are wary of Li Xuanzhen.”

He spoke word by word, his lips lingering by her temple.

Yao Ying remained silent.

Tanmolouqie gripped her chin, his breath brushing her face.

“You know many things others don’t know which people can be used, which aren’t worth using much. The Western Army’s weapons research Daoists and craftsmen take orders from you. Though you didn’t formulate the elixir recipes, you found the minerals and herbs.”

“I once thought Buddha sent you to my side. I wouldn’t probe your secrets, wouldn’t question your difficulties…”

He gazed into her bright eyes as if trying to see into her heart, his voice harsh, hoarse, each word heavy.

“Li Yao Ying, don’t leave me again, or I’ll search heaven and earth to find you.”

With a soft pop, the candle extinguished. Night wind stirred the beaded curtain, filling the inner chamber with its sound.

In the darkness, Tanmolouqie’s eyes seemed to burn with blue flames, ice-cold and restrained, yet crazy and scorching.

Yao Ying’s heart pounded wildly, her eyes gradually reddening. She raised her arms to hook around his back, using force to flip over, pressing him down, holding him tight, wiping her about-to-overflow tears on his chest robes, and raising her head to kiss him frantically.

Tanmolouqie turned to his side, embracing her, feeling her soft warm lips fall on his head, gently, slowly letting out a breath.

Only now did he truly set his heart at ease.

…

Yao Ying recovered, and the entire royal court rejoiced, celebrating throughout the realm.

The prayer banners in every household weren’t taken down; they continued praying for blessings for Tanmolouqie and Yao Ying, hoping for the wedding day to arrive soon.

Congratulatory gifts from various tribes arrived successively in the holy city. Princess Manda specially dispatched envoys bringing lavish gifts. To congratulate Yao Ying on fulfilling her wishes, besides the state gifts, she also sent a chest of beautifully written and illustrated precious books.

Li Zhongqian brought the queen’s crown to Yao Ying’s tent. When she saw those strings of jewels hanging down almost to her feet, her scalp tightened – if this crown were placed on her head, it would surely bend her neck.

“The two strings of jewels on the crown are too heavy.”

She told Tanmolouqie.

“Then remove them.”

He said seriously.

“What would be suitable to replace them? Are there any taboos in the royal court?”

“No taboos,” he said. “Everything as you wish.”

No matter what requests Yao Ying made, Yuanjue happily rushed to fulfill them – as long as the princess didn’t reject the groom, no request was too much!

The royal palace was renovated anew. Following Tanmolouqie’s instructions, they specially invited Han craftsmen to construct a courtyard in the Central Plains style within the inner hall. The ritual officials were busy with enthusiasm, preparing the wedding ceremony with urgency.

Li Zhongqian saw that after dispersing his power, Tanmolouqie’s martial arts became increasingly advanced, and Yao Ying’s health improved day by day. He packed his bags and prepared to return to Gaochang with his subordinates.

Yao Ying also prepared to return, asking him to wait a few more days.

Li Zhongqian said: “There’s nothing for me to do staying here. Better to return and make arrangements. I’m your elder brother – I’m not at ease leaving the wedding to others. You still have a slight fever, no need to rush back. Wait until I’ve arranged everything and I’ll write to you.”

As he spoke, he rubbed the top of her head.

Yao Ying thought this made sense and saw him off: “Brother, remember to write to me every few days.”

“Understood, little housewife.”

Li Zhongqian said with a smile.

The sun shone brilliantly, not a cloud in sight, the sky crystal clear blue. He wore light armor with a white cloak draped over his shoulders, riding his horse down the hillside. Looking back, he waved to Yao Ying, vigorous and spirited, just like years ago.

As soon as he left the holy city, Li Zhongqian immediately shook off the Western Army, ordering them to send letters to Yao Ying daily to make her think he was still on the road. He took only his guards and galloped back to Gaochang at full speed.

“Where’s the imperial edict from Chang’an?”

Yang Qian had already rushed back to Gaochang and waited for him outside the city, presenting the edict.

Li Zhongqian read the edict and sneered.

As he expected, when Tanmolouqie requested marriage, Li De didn’t dare refuse, but he hinted that Yao Ying must give up everything to marry.

Li De was dreaming.

If Yao Ying wanted to marry, she would marry – she didn’t need his permission at all. The marriage request was merely informing him.

Li Zhongqian carelessly tossed the edict to the ground. “Fourth Young Master is to become a prince consort? I haven’t congratulated Fourth Young Master yet.”

Yang Qian immediately frowned and said seriously: “General, rest assured. I am but a rough man of unrestrained nature, I dare not aspire to imperial branches and jade leaves. I will not marry the princess.”

Li Zhongqian’s mouth twisted: “Two peaches kill three warriors. You may have no intention to marry the princess, but what about other family’s sons? What about your cousins? Previously, the Hexi noble families valued lineage heavily. These years of war gradually made birth less important. Now that the realm is pacified, when Li De wants to recruit you all as prince consorts, some aristocratic families are bound to be tempted.”

Yang Qian’s sword-like eyebrows furrowed tightly, understanding that Li Zhongqian spoke the truth.

Not long ago, the emperor decreed his wish to send a princess to marry Gaochang. The emperor had begun dividing the Hexi noble families, inserting his people among them. Bestowing marriage was just the simplest and most effective means – afterward, the emperor would surely continue to sow discord.

“I’m going back to Chang’an,” Li Zhongqian didn’t enter the city. “Don’t tell Mingyue Nu.”

Before Yang Qian’s response could fall, he had already yanked his reins hard, disappearing in a cloud of dust.

Years ago, when he went beyond the border searching for Yao Ying, he had sworn that whether she was alive or dead, he would find her and bring her home, then settle accounts with Li De.

Now he had found her, and she was doing well, with a lover, friends, subordinates, and common people who adored her.

Yao Ying was his sister, yet she had always been protecting him, her elder brother.

This time, let him protect her.