Solemn Sanskrit chanting echoed through the hall. Flowers and incense were piled like mountains, and the gold and silver Bodhisattva statues held lotus branches in one hand and lotus flowers in the other, their gazes downcast, expressions compassionate.
On the precious bed, Tanmo Luo Jia wore his kasaya draped diagonally, his features gaunt, his eyes deep, with what seemed like a faint Buddhist light surrounding him, looking more like a Buddha in meditation than the golden statues on the altar.
He looked at Yao Ying, his gaze calm as if looking down upon all beings from the clouds.
“The royal court is not a place for the Princess to stay. Meng Da Ti Po will leave the royal court tomorrow morning. Princess may travel with him, and my guard Yuan Jue will escort Princess to India.”
Yao Ying’s eyelashes trembled slightly, her long beautiful eyes fixed steadily on Tanmo Luo Jia.
The Northern Rong had been defeated three times by Tanmo Luo Jia; Khan Wa Han and Hai Du A Ling wouldn’t dare attack the royal court for some time. Having fled to the royal court and received Tanmo Luo Jia’s protection, she could temporarily breathe easier, but Tanmo Luo Jia’s illness was severe, and there was still no news from Ban Ruo. If Tanmo Luo Jia died, the royal court would be as precarious as eggs piled high, and Hai Du A Ling wouldn’t let her escape.
These past few days, Yao Ying had considered that if Tanmo Luo Jia couldn’t escape the tragedy of death by illness, she would go to India with Meng Da Ti Po, then take the sea route back to the Central Plains.
As long as Hai Du A Ling lived, she could never return to her homeland through the He Long route; she could only take a circuitous path through India, otherwise, she would still fall into Hai Du A Ling’s hands.
These were decisions she had made after careful consideration.
So during her days of confinement, she hadn’t been idle, spending each day learning Sanskrit with the monks alongside her guards.
She hadn’t expected Tanmo Luo Jia to think of this solution too.
He was the royal court’s sovereign, with no relation to her—why would he consider everything so thoroughly for her?
He had even arranged for people to escort her to India.
He would not live much longer, yet he still thought of her, as a stranger.
Yao Ying’s gaze fell on Tanmo Luo Jia’s legs.
The loose kasaya covered his swollen legs; from the outside, he appeared to be simply sitting in meditation.
This man was revered by thousands in life, protected the royal court his whole life, and would maintain his meditation posture even in death.
When the Northern Rong people captured the holy city and charged into the Buddhist temple, seeing his remains, not one person dared approach. Even Hai Du A Ling showed unprecedented mercy, withdrawing his troops from the temple.
The Western Regions’ common people said Tanmo Luo Jia was truly Ananda’s incarnation, which was why his body remained uncorrupted as he achieved enlightenment through meditation.
Yao Ying had never seen a high monk achieve enlightenment through meditation. Looking at Tanmo Luo Jia’s serene and handsome features, imagining this person concealing his illness, growing weaker and more haggard day by day, exhausting himself for the royal court until dying alone, she felt a faint bitterness in her heart.
In his youth, when his clan was brutally massacred by the Zhang family, Princess Chi Ma came to hate all Han people because of it, but he never misdirected his anger toward the innocent, remaining compassionate throughout.
Yao Ying and her brother Li Zhong Qian had lived cautiously for over ten years due to the misdirected anger of Li De and Li Xuan Zhen’s father and son. Meeting a sovereign like Tanmo Luo Jia who, despite experiencing hardships, could still maintain kindness and gentleness in troubled times, it was difficult not to be moved.
She admired such a person.
But she couldn’t help him.
Yao Ying was lost in thought for a moment, then stepped forward, knelt beside the bed, took the wooden tray holding fresh flowers from the nearby table, wrapped it in gauze, folded it into the shape of a yuan bao, and gently tucked it beside Tanmo Luo Jia’s kasaya, next to his leg.
The surrounding guards were bewildered, not knowing what she intended to do, and remained motionless for a moment.
Tanmo Luo Jia was slightly startled.
Yao Ying leaned forward halfway, carefully adjusting the wooden tray’s position. A few trembling candlelights fell on her crow-black hair, her skin snow-white, the red silk ribbon binding her hair hanging at her neck, the ribbon crimson against skin that glowed like congealed cream.
In the room’s thick fragrance, she carried a faint sweet scent.
“Master, try this—it might make you more comfortable.”
Yao Ying raised her head, smiling at Tanmo Luo Jia, her bright eyes curving like two crescents.
When she was young and couldn’t walk, only able to lie or lean back all day, this was a method the doctor had taught her.
A trace of surprise flickered in Tanmo Luo Jia’s eyes—though still faint like clouds brushing across clear skies without leaving a ripple.
He understood and pressed his palms together.
Yao Ying returned the gesture and rose to leave.
She couldn’t do anything for him; she only hoped this man would suffer less before his death.
Yuan Jue escorted Yao Ying out of the main hall.
As they walked through the corridor, two growling sounds suddenly came from the corner.
The guard soldiers all stepped back.
The growling grew deeper, carrying a threatening warning.
Yao Ying raised her head, a chill running through her body.
A leopard with ancient coin-like spots stood in the shadows atop the wall, looking down at everyone, its light yellow eyes emitting an intimidating phosphorescent glow in the dim night.
Yuan Jue stood in front of Yao Ying, nervously swallowing.
“This is the Regent’s leopard, still wild, only listening to the Regent… Princess, please don’t move, don’t look at it!”
Yao Ying shifted her gaze away, completely still—seeing the leopard lurking in the darkness, her legs went weak; even if she wanted to move, she couldn’t.
After a moment of standoff between human and leopard, footsteps sounded from deep in the corridor, and a tall figure flashed past.
Yuan Jue hurriedly called softly: “Regent, A Li is here!”
That figure wavered twice, the sword at his waist flashing cold light, then turned and went in another direction. The leopard leaped down from the high wall and followed.
Yao Ying breathed a sigh of relief.
The Taiji Palace in Chang’an kept many rare birds and exotic beasts. Li Zhong Qian often took her to play with them in his spare time, including leopards, but those exotic beasts were all tribute offerings, raised to be docile. She had never seen such a fierce leopard.
That night, Ban Ruo and Ashina Bi Suo didn’t make it back to the holy city.
The candles in the main hall burned all night, as the central army riders guarding the holy city returned to the palace, and the palace guards were strict.
In less than two hours, news that the Regent had crippled Xue Yan Na’s hand spread throughout the holy city. The court ministers temporarily ceased their activities, quietly recalling their spies lingering outside the palace. The more timid ones even arranged generous gifts to be sent to the palace.
While the temple monks prayed for Tanmo Luo Jia, Meng Da Ti Po returned to his courtyard to pack his belongings, gather disciples and attendants, and prepare to depart.
Yao Ying had already packed her bags and left together with Meng Da Ti Po and his disciples.
Outside the palace gates, Meng Da Ti Po looked back at the palace behind them and sighed deeply: “This poor monk is incompetent, unable to cure the Buddhist disciple.”
Yao Ying rode her horse to catch up with him and asked: “Why not wait a few more days?”
Meng Da Ti Po turned back, pressing his palms together: “There aren’t many days left.”
Yao Ying fell silent.
Meng Da Ti Po continued: “The Buddhist disciple is kind-hearted, worried that the royal court ministers will trouble this poor monk and the Princess. When this poor monk first came to the royal court, I debated scripture with the Buddhist disciple and lost to him. We agreed—I would stay to treat him, and today is the last day of that agreement. By leaving today, the royal court ministers have no reason to detain this poor monk.”
He had lost to Tanmo Luo Jia, and according to the rules of scriptural debate, he should have taken Tanmo Luo Jia as his master. But Tanmo Luo Jia said they studied different Buddhist scriptures and sought different forms of liberation, so he dared not be his master, only asking him to stay as the palace physician, free to leave when the term was complete.
Yao Ying knew that Buddhism originated in India and, after spreading to the Western Regions and Central Plains, had blended with local beliefs. Over hundreds of years of development, it gradually divided and evolved, producing different sects.
In the Western Regions, Buddhism held a dominant position. Here, high monks emerged in succession, temples, and pagodas stood everywhere, and from kings to slaves, all were the most devout followers. The various countries of the Western Regions had built numerous Buddhist temples, preserved vast collections of Buddhist scriptures, and held grand Buddhist ceremonies every year, earning it the name “Little Western Paradise” from Central Plains monks.
But in Meng Da Ti Po’s homeland of India, Buddhism was showing signs of decline.
Yao Ying remembered how Meng Da Ti Po had overcome countless difficulties to come to the Western Regions. Why would he leave after staying less than a year?
She voiced her question.
Meng Da Ti Po smiled slightly: “This poor monk has met the Buddhist disciple and knows that my life’s pursuit is not in vain. Buddha saves all beings, each with their karmic connections. Whatever form is appropriate for salvation is the form that should be used for liberation. The Western Regions is not this poor monk’s destination.”
Yao Ying recalled Tanmo Luo Jia’s jade-colored eyes, dark as lotus flowers, and asked: “What kind of liberation does the Buddhist disciple seek in his cultivation?”
Meng Da Ti Po hesitated, seemingly unable to find words to describe it. After a long silence, he said: “The Buddhist disciple has chosen a very difficult path of cultivation.”
Yao Ying sighed inwardly.
She felt that Tanmo Luo Jia likely followed Mahayana teachings.
Buddhism was divided into Hinayana and Mahayana. Put simply, Hinayana Buddhism believed ordinary people couldn’t achieve Buddhahood, emphasizing personal cultivation to achieve individual enlightenment and liberation—it was otherworldly. Mahayana Buddhism believed there were countless Buddhas across the three times and ten directions, with Shakyamuni being just one of them. They believed everyone possessed Buddha nature and, beyond self-salvation, sought to save all beings.
Tanmo Luo Jia protected the royal court and cared for all people, clearly following the Mahayana school.
They left the palace, passed through stone walls, climbed up walkways, and walked through a long, narrow, dark cave. Suddenly the path opened up, intense light shone through, and the wind carried sounds of bustling crowds.
Yao Ying had arrived in the holy city late at night and had stayed in the palace since then, never seeing the city in daylight. Hearing the sounds of people, she looked around curiously.
What she saw took her breath away.
The dawn light was breaking, the sky vast and clear, cloudless and pure blue.
At the horizon, layers of magnificent mountains rose and fell, soaring into the clouds. The first rays of the morning sun fell diagonally, coating the eternal snow on the mountaintops with a brilliant golden light, creating an indescribably magnificent scene.
Halfway up the mountains were large patches of varying shades of green, wrapped in clouds and mist, beautiful and enchanting. One could faintly see ancient cave temples hidden in the mountain forests. At the foot of the mountains were deep valleys and crisscrossing river valleys, with lakes of various sizes set like blue-green gems, reflecting the azure sky. The lakeshores were carpeted with green grass on gentle slopes.
Looking south, Yao Ying saw endless waves of wheat fields stretching to the horizon.
And at the end of those fertile fields lay the holy city that Tanmo Luo Jia protected.
It was a magnificent and prosperous capital. A wide river flowed from west to east around the tall city walls, with imposing towers at the four corners creating an overwhelming presence. The city’s layout was as orderly as Chang’an, with buildings spread out like stars. To the south were bustling markets, and following the terrain northward, mansions and houses grew increasingly dense. At the northernmost point, surrounded by layers of temple steps, stood over a thousand monasteries, with towering buildings and multiple halls, their eaves reaching high. Looking out, temple caves and Buddha halls stood one after another, with hundreds of pagodas dozens of zhang tall standing among them, resplendent with gold and jade, majestic and solemn, demonstrating their supreme sanctity in the royal court.
That was Tanmo Luo Jia’s Buddhist temple.
The city streets were packed with vehicles and horses, crowds flowing like fabric, and people wearing different clothes from different tribes moving through the streets and alleys. Outside the city, dust rolled on the main road as merchants drove camels, elephants, horses, and long-haired cattle and sheep toward the city. The sound of pipa music mingled with joyful laughter, creating a scene of prosperous times.
Yao Ying reined in her horse, looking down at the holy city below, her emotions surging, speechless for a long time.
The majestic peaks, emerald valleys, prosperous capital, densely packed houses, rising and falling pagodas, towering mountains, lakes, and landscapes, and the peaceful smoke of human life unfolded before her eyes like magnificent paintings.
Here in the desert, eight thousand li from the Central Plains, she saw scenes of flourishing peach and plum blossoms, with mulberry and hemp spreading across the land.
If not for the snow-capped peaks reaching into the clouds in the distance, the endless yellow sands beyond the long river, and the houses and Buddhist temples so different from the Central Plains reminding her, Yao Ying might have thought the plank road she had just crossed had somehow taken her back to Jing Nan.
This oasis kingdom in the desert was unexpectedly prosperous and wealthy.
No wonder the Northern Rong were determined to take the royal court, no wonder Tanmo Luo Jia had struggled for years to protect this capital…
Yao Ying gazed at the bustling holy city in the morning light, seeming to see Tanmo Luo Jia’s lonely life.
Meng Da Ti Po’s group had already gone far ahead, but she still stood at the cave entrance, staring at the scene before her in a daze.
Her guards were as shocked as she was by what they saw, taking a long time to recover.
Looking down, Yao Ying discovered they were standing on a high earthen cliff. Below the cliff was a steep rock face, with a great river sparkling with rippling light winding past the foot of the mountain, the wind howling.
That night when Tanmo Luo Jia had led them back to the city after dark, taking hidden paths and climbing the high stone steps directly from the back mountain into the palace, she had only seen a tall earthen cliff and a river dozens of zhang wide. She hadn’t seen anything else and had thought the holy city was just an ordinary oasis town.
Now she saw that the holy city lay deep in a canyon, surrounded by towering earthen cliffs forming a natural barrier. This unique terrain was probably one reason why the Northern Rong had failed to capture the holy city despite several attempts.
What a pity that after Tanmo Luo Jia’s death, this prosperous kingdom was destined to fall under the iron hooves of the Northern Rong.
Yao Ying turned her horse around.
The guards gradually followed her.
They descended the hillside and walked through a long, deep mountain ravine. When they looked back, they could no longer see the holy city’s towering pagodas.
The group stopped to rest. Yao Ying fed her horse two grass cakes when suddenly the sound of hoofbeats like raindrops came from ahead.
Dust filled the sky as a rider approached like lightning, the sound of hooves echoing between the cliff walls.
Yuan Jue, who was escorting Yao Ying to India, suddenly jumped up, pointing at the rider with wild joy: “It’s General Ashina! General Ashina has returned!”
Yao Ying looked where he pointed. The young general had already galloped up to her—a man in his twenties with golden hair and blue-green eyes, deep-set features, his snow-white robe flying in the wind.
Their eyes met, and Ashina Bi Suo was momentarily lost in thought but didn’t stop, galloping past them.
Yao Ying froze, suddenly feeling his eyes looked familiar.
He too had jade-green eyes.
…
With Ashina Bi Suo’s timely return, Meng Da Ti Po immediately turned back to the palace.
There was hope for Tanmo Luo Jia.
Yao Ying didn’t hesitate, returning to the holy city with Meng Da Ti Po.
Taking the sea route home from India would certainly help her avoid Hai Du A Ling, but the journey was long and extremely dangerous. Unless necessary, she still hoped to return to the Central Plains through He Long.
Because she feared missing Li Zhong Qian.
She had been gone so long; Li Zhong Qian would certainly come looking for her—regardless of whether his wounds had healed or whether news of the Ye Lu tribe’s destruction had reached Chang’an. Yao Ying was certain that as long as her brother lived, he would come to find her.
Since there was hope for Tanmo Luo Jia, she should stay and look for an opportunity to return to the Central Plains through He Long.
Hai Du A Ling would eventually turn to attack the Central Plains. Rather than living in constant fear, it was better to prepare early. Now he was just an unstable, irritable Northern Rong prince, far from being as calculating as he would be decades later. Since they were already enemies, they should clip his wings before his power grew too great!