Under Tanmoluojia’s personal care, the lotus seeds sprouted and grew leaves in their first year.

In late autumn, a pond of emerald lotus leaves still stretched outside the curved gallery.

The pond water was clear, with the evening glow shining through. Colorful fish chased the brilliant shadows sinking into the water below, while cool breezes stirred the chimes.

The window pavilion was half-open, with flowing spring water nourishing the flowers and plants growing beneath the corridor. Though the gobi desert outside the city was full of withered grass, the courtyard remained lush with flowers and trees, branches, and leaves in abundance.

From deep within the long corridor came laughter, round and gentle, like dewdrops rolling on lotus leaves.

Tanmoluojia raised his head from his pile of sutras, his gaze passing over the crowded green lotus leaves to the corridor where flower and tree shadows intertwined in the evening light. A graceful figure walked slowly from the warm glow.

She walked while speaking softly with those beside her, wrapped in brilliant sunset light. When she occasionally smiled brightly, all the flowers and trees in the courtyard lost their color.

Flower fragrance drifted gently, rich, and sweet.

The laughter drew closer. She waved for the servants and maids to withdraw, entered the hall, and walked behind Tanmoluojia. She swayed slightly, the pearl flower balls attached to her gauze scarf brushing against the velvet rug with a rustling sound.

Tanmoluojia looked at the sutra scroll spread before him.

The next moment, warmth pressed against his back.

As usual, she draped herself over his back, her soft fullness pressed against him. Her warm lips kissed his neck once: “What are you reading?”

Today she carried not only lingering flower fragrance but also a faint smell of wine.

She had attended a banquet.

In the royal court, almost every household brewed wine. Grape wine spoiled easily – only wine frozen in winter could be stored for ten years without spoiling, and its taste was richer and more fragrant. So every household would freeze wine in winter. Before winter came each year, the people would hold a frozen wine banquet, offering their best grape wine as tribute, and praying for the prosperity of people and livestock in the coming year.

Yao Ying had brought diverse seeds and saplings to the Western Region states, along with many agricultural officials and craftsmen skilled in farming and water management. Right after winning the battle, she had urgently arranged for the Western Army to help people reclaim wasteland for farming, dig irrigation channels, encourage merchants to trade, dispatch cavalry to protect trade routes, and reduce taxes. All the states were flourishing.

Since becoming the royal court’s queen, she had also brought many agricultural books to the Holy City, asking monks to translate them and teaching the royal court people to grow fruits and trees suitable for the local environment. The people were grateful for her kindness and sincerely asked her to attend this year’s banquet, taste the royal court’s best wine, and lead them in praying to the gods.

Yao Ying had drunk several bowls of wine today. On the way back she had drunk sobering soup, and though the wine’s effects had dissipated and she was clear-headed, she still felt somewhat light-headed, as if walking on cotton. She softly pressed against Tanmoluojia, nuzzling him.

Tanmoluojia’s throat tightened as he looked up.

Yao Ying’s face held a smile, her cheeks tinged with a light peach blush. Her bright eyes seemed washed clean, gaze flowing, pupils gleaming, corners slightly red – both spirited and charming.

When he didn’t speak, she simply lay on his back and reached to flip through his book.

“Brought back from Chang’an?”

He nodded.

While Buddhism in India was gradually declining, it was flourishing in the Central Plains. He had brought back many Chinese texts from the Central Plains for the temple monks to translate. Buddhism had originally spread from the Western Regions to the Central Plains, but in the future, Central Plains Buddhism might influence the Western Regions in return.

Yao Ying looked at the few Buddhist verses he had translated and said: “Buddha-nature is inherent in all, anyone can achieve Buddhahood. Central Plains Buddhism blends with secular ethics, making it more accessible and easier for common people to accept, thus spreading more widely.”

Tanmoluojia said: “When Central Plains monks spread the sutras, they often encourage people toward Buddhism through self-enlightenment to Buddhahood.”

Yao Ying nodded, saying: “Sudden enlightenment to Buddhahood is much easier than ascetic practices and meditation. Most Indian monks come from Brahmin backgrounds – their emphasis on asceticism and begging can’t attract ordinary followers.”

“What is inherent nature? What is Buddha?”

Yao Ying rested her chin on his shoulder, smiling without speaking.

Tanmoluojia turned to look at her: “Why have you stopped talking?”

Yao Ying’s lips curved in a charming smile: “I won’t debate Buddhist scripture with you anymore – I can’t win against you.”

A few days ago when debating scripture with him, she had been caught up in his few sentences and had to flip through books for a long time to find one counterargument. She would never debate Buddhism with him again.

Her hair was coiled in a cloud-like bun with just a single gold-plated silver hairpin set with coral flower trees, tied with a silk ribbon. Other than that, her black, crow-wing-like hair had no other ornamental pins or jewels. Her clothes were not luxurious either – just a thin shirt revealing snow-white skin and a simple silk skirt. Yet in every smile and frown she radiated vitality, with flowing charm and an indescribable rich elegance.

Tanmoluojia still held his brush but couldn’t help raising his head to capture her vermillion lips.

She laughed softly, her tongue tip playfully exploring.

His eyes darkened as he entangled her tightly. She timidly retreated, waiting for him to pursue, then smiled and bit him lightly. The tingling and slight pain made her taste even more intense. He gripped her waist tightly, not letting her withdraw.

Her thin gauze and his monk’s robes tangled together.

Outside the window, lotus leaves rustled gently.

Yao Ying’s body grew soft, unconsciously sliding down. Tanmoluojia put down his brush and lifted her up. She took the opportunity to sit on his lap, facing him, as their robes fell away.

Only Yao Ying could feel Tanmoluojia’s tension.

She hugged his neck and kissed him. “Don’t move.”

Tanmoluojia stared at her unblinkingly.

Yao Ying pulled the silk ribbon from her hair and bound his hands with it, circle by circle. She moved her hips as her hands slipped inside his collar, caressing him with moderate pressure, slowly relaxing her body under his silent gaze.

Tanmoluojia’s eyes were deep, locked on her face, his brows furrowed, expression restrained, with fierce flames seeming to burn in the depths of his jade eyes.

The sky gradually darkened, tree shadows floating by the window.

The lotus flower opened its petals, wrapping around him bit by bit.

The night wind blew fiercely, making the pond’s lotus leaves rise and fall in waves of rippling green. Suddenly a wild gust came, making the lotus leaves tremble delicately as if overwhelmed. In an instant, the lotus platform bent its waist to the wind, scattering a spray of crystalline dewdrops.

Inside the hall, Yao Ying’s cloud-like bun had come loose and disheveled, her face flushed. The flower tree hairpin was about to fall, coral beads hanging in her hair swaying gently. Her brows were knitted as if about to cry.

Though she had been in control at first, soon she couldn’t bear it anymore.

Her body tensed uncontrollably as she collapsed softly in Tanmoluojia’s arms.

He was already drenched in sweat, his jade eyes calm and cold, yet his face suffused with the most primal desire. He easily broke free of the silk ribbon binding his hands and firmly gripped her waist that had been softly writhing moments ago. He kissed her sweat-dampened temples, brushed aside her clothes, and turned her over.

The lotus leaves swayed and trembled in the wind.

…

As newlyweds, they were intimate almost every day. After a night of passion, when Yao Ying got up the next day, her waist was sore and painful. She had only walked a few steps before clutching her waist and drawing in a sharp breath.

Footsteps sounded behind her as Tanmoluojia came over, his palm gently massaging her waist.

Yao Ying turned back, looked at his calm and dignified face, and moved closer to kiss him.

He immediately lowered his head to deepen the kiss, his eyelashes trembling as if intoxicated.

Yao Ying smiled and bit him lightly.

Though his tongue stung, Tanmoluojia didn’t release her. His right hand firmly held the back of her neck as he continued kissing her, moving from gentle to intense, not allowing her to withdraw even slightly.

When their lips finally parted, Yao Ying’s heart was pounding, and it took her a long while to catch her breath.

She rose on tiptoe to kiss his face several times.

Tanmoluojia looked at her silently.

She was going to stay in the Western Regions for a month – the journey had been planned long ago.

Yao Ying held Tanmoluojia’s face, saying seriously: “My lord, remember to write to me.”

Tanmoluojia was completely helpless against her. He raised his hand to brush aside the hair by her cheek and said in a deep voice: “Come back soon.”

Yao Ying responded with a bright “yes,” adding “I’ll be back in a few days.”

Tanmoluojia responded softly, but his hand remained around her waist, unwilling to let go for a long time.

From head to toe, he radiated awkwardness.

Yao Ying was also reluctant to leave. After lingering reluctantly for a while, she steeled herself to push him away. “I’m going. Don’t see me off.”

She left the hall, went around the corridor, and caught sight of the pond full of lotus leaves from the corner of her eye. Her steps halted as she looked back.

A tall figure stood by the window, the felt curtain half-rolled up, as he stood there gazing straight at her.

Yao Ying’s heart tightened. She wanted to tell Xie Qing and the others she wasn’t going, that she would return to the Western Regions next year instead.

Her foot had just started forward when she forced herself to calm down. Shaking her head, she waved to Tanmoluojia, hardened her heart, and turned to leave.

Tanmoluojia’s gaze remained fixed on the end of the corridor before he lowered his eyes.

In the sunlight on the ground, she was already gone.

…

The next day, Tanmoluojia opened his eyes to an empty pillow beside him.

He was lost in thought for a moment before getting up to handle official business, quickly taking care of the day’s important matters.

The hall was silent.

After she left, everything felt increasingly empty. Even the lotus leaves in the pond seemed less vibrant than yesterday.

He received ministers and tribal chiefs, issued decrees, gathered monks to inquire about translation progress and temple reforms, offered some guidance, staying busy until nightfall.

Yuanjue brought a pile of memorials waiting for review – with the queen visiting her family, the king could focus on dealing with these accumulated trivial matters.

Tanmoluojia reviewed the memorials by candlelight, which cast his shadow long across the ground.

He looked back at Yao Ying’s small desk, neat and tidy.

Their desks had originally been joined together – he could see her sitting beside him without raising his head, easily becoming distracted or doing other things. She had had the desks moved apart, facing away from each other so they could each focus on their work without distraction. When she wanted to ask him something or grew tired, she would lean back, resting her whole body against his back.

He wondered where she was staying tonight, whether the day’s journey had been tiring. He should have shown more restraint last night, but knowing she was leaving today, he had wanted to keep her and couldn’t help being too intense.

One month.

When she returned, there should be several feet of snow in the courtyard.

Light footsteps sounded at the door as Yuanjue entered carrying a letter: “Your Majesty, this was delivered by the queen’s attendant.”

Why would she send a letter so soon after leaving? Had something happened?

Tanmoluojia frowned as he took and opened the letter.

A sweet-scented silk ribbon fell out into his palm.

This was the ribbon she had used to bind his hands last night, not letting him move. Later he had blindfolded her with it as she sobbed, clutching his shoulders, begging him to slow down.

Tanmoluojia gripped the ribbon and unfolded the letter.

There was only one sentence on the paper.

Master, I miss you.

Tanmoluojia raised his head, gazing out at the pitch-black night sky.

He instructed Yuanjue: “Set out for the Western Regions to bring the queen back.”

Yuanjue looked bewildered – the queen had only left today and would return in a month. There was no need to prepare so early to welcome her back.

“Leave now.”

Tanmoluojia said, brooking no argument.

Whatever the king said was right. Yuanjue dared not object and responded with a dull “oh” before withdrawing to pack his bags and head straight for the Western Regions.