After escaping danger, the Hu merchants departed with their goods, offering gifts of gratitude before leaving and requesting the Buddhist Prince to accept them.

Several monks came forward to politely decline the merchants’ offerings, consoling them with gentle words. They even performed a Buddhist ceremony in Dharmārāga’s name for the deceased merchants.

The merchants were moved to tears with gratitude.

Yao Ying and her guards were temporarily placed within the royal military’s central army.

The Northern Rong people and other tribes she had seen in the Western Regions all wore their hair loose and fastened their robes on the left. While the royal cavalry mostly wore shoulder-length braids, their attire differed from the Northern Rong.

The central army cavalry wore blue robes, light armor, and white cloaks with intricate embroidered patterns. They carried long sabers and curved bows, and each had servants who ran errands and performed menial tasks for them.

Unlike the fierce and warlike Northern Rong soldiers, they seemed quite versed in etiquette. Though they deeply resented Yao Ying’s public disrespect toward their Buddhist Prince, glaring at her with anger whenever they saw her, they never openly insulted her.

However, Dharmārāga’s two personal guards treated Yao Ying much worse, having someone take away her horse and ordering her to walk with the lowest-ranking slaves.

Most importantly: she was forbidden from mentioning Dharmārāga’s name or even looking at him.

The round-faced chubby knight pointed at Yao Ying and shouted: “You shameless Han woman, even one glance from you at our King is a desecration!”

Yao Ying gazed toward the front of the formation, where an enormous white banner fluttered in the wind. Dharmārāga rode at the very front; she could only see his slender silhouette from behind.

Among the thousands of troops, he alone wore crimson Buddhist robes, his figure solitary and aloof.

He looked divine.

The central army knights clustered behind him, watching his back with fervent devotion.

The knight followed Yao Ying’s line of sight and became red-faced with anger, shouting as he blocked her view: “Han woman, you’re forbidden from looking at our King! Not even one glance! Look again and I’ll gouge out your eyes!”

Yao Ying’s lips twitched as she averted her gaze.

The knight glared at her disapprovingly and called over some soldiers: “Make them follow at the very back of the formation! Don’t let this Han woman get anywhere near the King!”

Yao Ying followed behind the central army with her guards, looking back once at the valley.

Dust clouds rolled on the horizon as Haidu Aling departed with his Northern Rong troops.

Walking at the rear of the central army formation, Yao Ying and her guards found that while the knights’ servants were all male, they treated her fairly pleasantly, curious about this beautiful Han maiden.

From them, Yao Ying learned they were very close to Sand City. Dharmārāga had just sworn an alliance with the Wakhan Khan in Sand City. Right after the army left the city, scouts reported that Haidu Aling was attacking the royal merchant convoy, so he immediately led troops to intimidate the Northern Rong.

Yao Ying felt terrified in hindsight.

When Haidu Aling went to Sand City, they had a chance to escape. After fleeing the camp, they had lost their way and ran straight toward Sand City!

They had walked right into the trap.

Fortunately, Dharmārāga had scared off Haidu Aling.

The royal army moved swiftly, only stopping to rest at a barren cliff face after nightfall.

The central army set up camp around Dharmārāga’s tent, with several military units in different colors standing guard on the perimeter.

Yao Ying shared her allocated rock-hard dry biscuits with the other slaves.

While hungrily devouring the biscuits, the slaves told her that the central army knights were mostly noble sons from the Holy City, loyal to the royal family and valuing honor, taking orders only from the monarch as the palace and temple guard. The other military units served various great nobles. The kingdom had a regent who handled secular affairs for the Buddhist Prince, with court officials all coming from noble families. Though Dharmārāga was the monarch, he was sometimes restricted by the nobles.

Speaking of this last point, the slave became indignant: “The Buddhist Prince is Ananda incarnate, compassionate and working to save all beings. He’s truly benevolent and wants to free us captured slaves to become commoners, but the nobles won’t allow it.”

Yao Ying gave the slave a silver coin.

While the Central Plains used copper coins and silk for trade, gold coins, silver coins, and silk were common in the Western Regions.

The slave accepted the coin with delight and after some thought, advised Yao Ying: “Since you’re Han, better stay here with the central army. Don’t go out alone. The central army knights follow the King’s orders and won’t abuse Han women.”

He glanced up at her face.

“A beauty like you would surely catch the eye of the royal nobles. Their subordinates capture beauties from various tribes during battles to earn rewards from the nobles. You must be careful.”

Yao Ying looked surprised and asked quietly: “Does the royal court hate Han people?”

South of the Tianshan Mountains, north of the Kunlun Mountains, and east of the Pamirs lay vast stretches of desert and wasteland. The climate was hot and arid, almost uninhabited except for oases formed by rivers flowing from the Tianshan Mountains.

This long strip of oasis territory contained numerous tiny nations dependent on the rivers, scattered with city-states and tribes of varying sizes, from the smallest with just one or two thousand people to the largest with hundreds of thousands.

Yao Ying knew something about the Northern Rong royal family but was completely unfamiliar with these Western Region tribes large and small. She only knew the royal court was a Buddhist nation that would be crushed under Northern Rong hooves within a few years. If not for knowing the general outline of Dharmārāga’s life, she wouldn’t even remember the name of this kingdom.

Since being captured by Haidu Aling and brought to the Western Regions, she had been confined in the camp surrounded by Northern Rong soldiers, unable to learn about the various Western Region states.

She knew the Northern Rong viewed all conquered tribes as lower classes but didn’t know it was the same in the royal court. Moreover, from the slave’s hints, the royal court particularly despised the Han people.

The slave lowered his head to polish the silver coin: “Both nobles and commoners in the royal court hate Han people. We used to be subjects of the Central Plains dynasty, but then they abandoned us to our fate and other tribes took control of the Western Regions. Here, Han people became the lowest class.”

Yao Ying’s brows furrowed slightly.

She hadn’t expected the Han people’s status to fall so low after the Western Regions were lost.

Come to think of it, Dharmārāga was also a royal noble, a prince who could serve as both a secular and religious leader. If everyone from nobles to commoners hated Han people, then her public outburst not only wouldn’t help her cause but might even violate their taboos.

Why had he helped her?

There were only two explanations:

One, Dharmārāga wanted to ally with the Wei Dynasty.

Two, as a monk embodying Buddhist compassion, Dharmārāga couldn’t bear to see her taken by Haidu Aling.

Yao Ying weighed the options – regardless, as long as she could temporarily escape Haidu Aling’s clutches, she had a chance to return to the Central Plains.

From He-Long to the Western Regions, wherever she fled, Haidu Aling could capture her. Only by escaping to the royal court would she have a chance to catch her breath.

She would take it one step at a time.

Dharmārāga seemed eager to return to the Holy City. The next day, the army set out before dawn and again only stopped to make camp after complete darkness fell.

By the fourth day, the central army separated from the other units, leaving behind the supply train to press onward.

They continued like this for several days, passing only one small oasis. Everywhere else was endless gravel desert, with majestic mountain ranges on the horizon appearing eternally distant, their snowy peaks perpetually shrouded in clouds.

The further north they went, the hotter it became. Yao Ying and her guards had no change of clothes and could only continue wearing their thick felt robes.

The medicine she had traded silver coins for from the royal cavalry ran out. Xie Qing’s wounds hadn’t improved – with scorching days and freezing nights, her injuries showed signs of festering.

Yao Ying grew anxious.

Since saving her that day, Dharmārāga seemed to have forgotten about her, neither sending anyone to confirm her identity nor stating how to handle her.

The central army cavalry brought her food daily. When she requested to see Dharmārāga, they immediately sneered, berating her delusions: “How could the Buddhist Prince see a Han woman like you?”

Yao Ying tried other methods.

She had used up all her silver coins, and Dharmārāga showed no intention of acknowledging her.

It seemed that the monk had no plans to ally with the Wei Dynasty and had only saved her out of compassion.

Yao Ying and her guards traded their felt robes with other slaves for some medicine, changed into slave clothing, and endured for two more days.

That evening, as a red sunburned half the sky crimson, sudden cheers erupted from the advancing troops.

The slave pointed to distant towering cliffs and told Yao Ying: “Han woman, this is our Holy City!”

Yao Ying looked up, expecting to see a magnificent capital city, but saw only massive black earthen cliffs. Below ran a river dozens of zhang wide that split northward, winding around the cliffs to form a natural barrier.

Before she could look closer, a knight galloped from the front of the formation to the rear, announcing loudly for the troops to stop and rest.

Yao Ying was startled: given the army’s pace these past days, Dharmārāga was rushing back to the Holy City. Why stop to rest at the foot of the city?

Wasn’t he worried about not reaching the capital before dark?

True to their reputation as the most loyal royal troops, no one complained about Dharmārāga’s order. Even with the Holy City in sight and everyone eager to return home, the formation stopped immediately.

The sun withdrew its last golden rays, and as the night wind blew, the temperature suddenly dropped. Yao Ying and her guards shivered in the cold.

Just as she thought they would be sleeping in the desert, the formation suddenly moved again.

Yao Ying followed others in the darkness under the knights’ guidance, thinking: so Dharmārāga wanted to enter the city after dark – was he trying not to disturb the city’s residents?

Never having been to the Holy City, she couldn’t recognize the route. It felt like they walked for a long time, then crossed what seemed to be a long plank bridge, followed by steep stone steps that they climbed for ages before reaching the cliff top, then descended a sandy slope.

So the Holy City sat in a river valley, surrounded by rivers and cliff faces…

A naturally defensible position – no wonder the Northern Rong could never capture this city.

In the darkness, only the knights’ torches cast dim light.

Yao Ying couldn’t see clearly but felt they walked down slopes for a long time before the path suddenly opened up, with howling winds sweeping through.

The cavalry separated her and her guards from the slave group, taking them to a stone prison for confinement.

The prison was dry and cold. Yao Ying and her guards stared at each other in the darkness for a while before she said: “Still better than sleeping in the desert. Let’s rest.”

The round-faced knight left the prison and hurried back to the palace.

Dharmārāga had quietly returned to the palace. Lamps were lit in the main hall as several monks rushed over, spoke with Dharmārāga briefly, then took their leave.

The knight respectfully bowed to the monks.

One brown-eyed monk said: “Prajñā, the Buddhist Prince says you brought back a Wei Dynasty princess?”

The round-faced knight’s face immediately turned dark red as he snorted: “Yes, that shameless Han woman claims she’s the Wei Dynasty’s Seventh Princess, titled Wenzhao.”

The monk’s expression changed slightly as he asked: “Where is the Seventh Princess now?”

Prajñā answered: “In the stone prison. She desecrated the Buddhist Prince – a grave sin! Tomorrow I’ll request the Regent to punish her!”

The monk frowned, pressing his palms together: “The Seventh Princess is one with karmic affinity. She cannot be treated so carelessly.”

Prajñā’s mouth gaped in surprise.

Just as Yao Ying had laid down to sleep, urgent footsteps sounded outside.

Several royal soldiers opened the prison door and respectfully said: “Seventh Princess, please come with us. The Master wishes to see you.”

Yao Ying was led from the prison to a side hall in the palace.

An elderly man in a full Buddhist robe stood before the stone steps. Seeing her, he pressed his palms together: “Seventh Princess.”

Yao Ying’s gaze fell on the elder’s aged face. She stared for a long while before finally recognizing those brown eyes.

Her heart surged with emotion, leaving her speechless for some time before she slowly recovered. Pressing her palms together, she smiled. Though her hair was disheveled, her appearance ragged, and she wore slave’s clothing, her bearing remained graceful: “Master, since parting in Chang’an, have you been well?”

Looking at the young woman who maintained her composure despite her wretched state, Munda Deva smiled slightly: “Thanks to the Princess’s blessing, my lifelong wish has been fulfilled.”