The meditation room was swept clean. Russian olive trees grew in the four corners of the courtyard, their scaly branches crowded with pearl-like silvery-white flowers. Sunlight poured down, giving the lush branches and leaves a faint sheen.

Tanmoluojia didn’t turn around. His pure white, slender fingers continued turning the scripture pages, his cassock-clad back thin yet vigorous.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

Ashina Bisuo knelt outside the door, hesitated for a moment, his face slightly red, then lifted his head and chest, speaking word by word: “King, I am fond of the Wei Princess Wenzhao. She is beautiful, resilient, and brave. I admire her and want to protect her, to make her laugh carefree every day.”

A breeze swept through the courtyard, gently swaying the flower-laden branches of the Russian olive trees, sending forth wisps of faint fragrance.

Tanmoluojia was silent for a while, his eyes lowered slightly: “Bisuo, Princess Wenzhao is a princess of Great Wei, not a princess of the Royal Court.”

Bisuo smiled: “I know Princess Wenzhao isn’t a Royal Court princess. King, I haven’t come to request you arrange a marriage… I’ve come to seek your permission.”

He paused, gazing at Tanmoluojia’s back, his expression solemn.

“King, do you permit me to love Princess Wenzhao?”

Tanmoluojia’s scripture-turning motion stopped.

Bisuo continued: “Princess Wenzhao is staying at the Royal Court on the pretext of emulating Matanga. Though you are the Buddha’s son, having transcended the seven emotions and six desires, understanding life and death, severing desires, and cannot be moved by the Princess, I respect you, so I dare to ask… King, may I love the Princess?”

Tanmoluojia’s fingers turned his prayer beads as he said: “Bisuo, you shouldn’t ask me.”

Bisuo froze, then smiled bitterly.

Indeed, he shouldn’t have come to ask Rāga. Princess Wenzhao wasn’t a treasure waiting to be bought—she was a living person. If he truly loved Princess Wenzhao, he should have the courage to pursue her even without the King’s approval.

He looked at Tanmoluojia and said: “I understand.”

Tanmoluojia lowered his eyes, continuing to read the scripture: “Princess Wenzhao is young, stranded in foreign lands, living day to day. Bisuo, do not treat her lightly.”

Bisuo came to his senses, touching his forehead to the ground: “I swear I will never do anything to disrespect the Princess because of my admiration, nor will I take advantage of her circumstances or use my position to pressure her. If I break this oath, I submit to the King’s punishment!”

He waited a moment, grabbed his sword, and retreated from the meditation room, standing at the threshold, looking back at Tanmoluojia’s silhouette.

Before passing, the Master had said Rāga’s worldly ties weren’t yet severed.

Previously, Bisuo hadn’t taken this prophecy seriously. But after seeing the brilliant Princess Wenzhao and spending several days in her company, the Master’s words echoed in his mind again and again.

He feared the Master’s words would come true.

One thought leads to Buddha, one thought leads to the demon. Rāga was different from others—if his heart was moved and he tasted love…

Bisuo’s expression grew solemn.

Footsteps sounded behind him as Prajñā crept up: “General Ashina, do you truly admire Princess Wenzhao?”

Bisuo nodded, his voice ringing out: “Indeed, I love the Princess, my heart as clear as the sun and moon!”

With that, he turned and left.

Prajñā watched his tall figure disappear beside the Russian olive trees, excitedly rubbing his hands: General Ashina was dashing and romantic—at thirteen he could already charm noble young ladies into secretly giving their hearts, and over the years the General’s romantic affairs had never ceased. This was perfect—now that he loved Princess Wenzhao, the King could finally be free of the Princess!

The wind howled through the empty, cool corridor, rushing into the meditation room. The pages on the desk were lifted by the wind as Tanmoluojia lowered his head to silently read the scripture, his cassock brushing against the long desk with a rustling sound.

Half an hour later, footsteps sounded again in the corridor.

Pratyekabuddha stood at the door, clasping his hands: “King, people from Sand City sent word—Prince Haidu Aling hasn’t returned to Northern Rong.”

The Northern Rong had no fixed capital—wherever the Wahan Khagan’s camp moved, there the Northern Rong’s royal tent would be. After establishing an alliance with the Royal Court, the Wahan Khagan’s illness indeed improved. For a time, talk of divine punishment spread everywhere, and Tanmoluojia’s reputation rose even higher. The Wahan Khagan decisively chose to return to Yizhou to prevent the army’s morale from dispersing. Haidu Aling had come as envoy to the Royal Court, and by his schedule should have returned to Northern Rong by now, but the herdsmen there hadn’t seen any sign of him.

Tanmoluojia’s face remained calm as his fingers caressed his prayer beads: “Strengthen the guard at all parts of the palace.”

Pratyekabuddha acknowledged the order.

…

The Royal Court was scorching hot during the day but cool at night. Cold moonlight poured down like a ground coating of frost.

Tiny candlelight flickered in the room as Yao Ying sat with her guards on felt carpets, discussing the settlement of Han people from Shazhou and Guazhou.

Days ago, she had Xie Qing make a sand table showing the general terrain of the Western Regions’ Northern Route, explaining to Xie Chong and the others: “The Western Regions are mostly desert. The trade routes rely on this narrow strip of oases, with post stations along the way. Because of warfare, many stations are abandoned. The Hu merchants who control the trade routes often control local trade. When dealing with them, you must take a long-term view—better to give up some profit to cooperate with them. If we can establish ourselves in the Royal Court, we can help more people in the future.”

Xie Chong and the others listened attentively, asking: “Princess, will we be doing business with Hu merchants in the future? I can boast a bit about leading troops in battle, but I don’t know the first thing about business…”

Yao Ying glanced at him, saying: “Now the Western Regions are plagued by warfare, and many small tribes that relied on trade routes have declined. At such times, merchant caravans that can still travel between countries must have armed support behind them. What you need to learn is how to deal with them. They have extensive information networks and might be able to help us transmit messages.”

In the war-torn Western Regions, merchants often had close ties with various tribes, using gold and silver treasures to win over major nobles and influence local situations to facilitate their trade. These people could even mobilize troops.

Xie Chong understood somewhat, nodding repeatedly in agreement, smiling: “As long as the Princess doesn’t let me manage the accounts!”

Xie Peng gave him a look: “Let you manage accounts? Then we might as well prepare to starve!”

The others burst into laughter.

After discussing until midnight, everyone took their leave.

Xie Qing stayed behind, taking out the military texts Yao Ying had given her days ago: “Princess, I’ve finished reading all of them.”

She emphasized “all” with pride in her voice.

Yao Ying didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—was this something to be proud of?

“Ah Qing, these military texts are for you to study properly. Keep them and read them several more times, no need to return them.”

Xie Qing made a sound of acknowledgment and took back the texts.

Yao Ying said softly: “Ah Qing, since we’re at the Royal Court, when you encounter parts you don’t understand, you can ask Bisuo and the others for guidance. Though the military texts of our two countries differ, the principles are the same.”

Xie Qing nodded.

She was naturally strong and had practiced martial arts with her brothers since childhood, but because she was female, her father had never taught her troop deployment. She had never thought about going to war before, only wanting to be a competent guard. Now that they were stranded in foreign lands with all the guards under her command, and the Princess wanted her to study military strategy, she would study it well.

The Princess had never looked at her differently for being female, showing neither favoritism nor treating her as a curiosity, as if in the Princess’s eyes, this was perfectly normal.

She couldn’t fail the Princess’s trust.

Xie Qing put away the military texts and, looking at the moonlight flowing through the window, suddenly asked: “Princess, if our message reaches the Central Plains, will there be a response?”

Yao Ying nodded: “There will be.”

She was certain the Central Plains would respond because she viewed Li De, Li Xuanzhen, and the court ministers as politicians. Whatever conflicts existed between them, politicians wouldn’t refuse profitable deals. Moreover, the court had rising stars from noble families like Zheng Jing, and ambitious commoners like Du Sinan who were eager to establish merit and would use any means for advancement. Among these people were those with long-term vision who cared about the country and its people—someone would surely respond.

As for their father-son and sibling grudges, there would come a time to settle those accounts.

Xie Qing frowned: “What about after returning to the Central Plains? Princess, you must think more about yourself.”

“I understand.” Yao Ying yawned, her voice soft and languid. “Returning to the Central Plains doesn’t mean returning to Chang’an. I know what I’m doing. Ah Qing, what I’m doing is both for the greater good, to reduce warfare, and for my benefit. Don’t worry.”

Xie Qing made a sound of acknowledgment, seeing her tired face, and got up to move the candle: “Princess, please rest early.”

Yao Ying’s eyelids were heavy. She changed clothes and had barely lain down before falling asleep. In her drowsy state, she suddenly sensed something amiss and awoke, just in time to hear several footsteps on the roof.

Someone was walking on the roof!

Yao Ying listened carefully. Several muffled thuds came from the courtyard, followed by people falling. Xie Chong called out once before being cut off by something, his shout abruptly silenced.

Chaotic footsteps sounded in the corridor, shadows moving past the window.

Yao Ying’s heart pounded as she fumbled in the dark for her dagger, got up, and barefooted, stealthily hid behind the door.

With a creak, the door bolt was picked from outside. A pair of hands pushed open the door, and several dark figures entered the room, heading straight for the bed.

“Princess!”

Xie Qing and Xie Peng’s shouts rang out. The courtyard was filled with flashing blade lights as the guards shouted while fighting with people in night clothes. The corridor was full of people inside and out.

Yao Ying hid behind the door, gripping her dagger tightly.

The dark figures rushed to the bed, lifted the thin blanket, and not finding Yao Ying, immediately turned to search around.

One of the dark figures narrowed his eyes, and suddenly spun around, his form flashing, and in an instant his tall, imposing body was pressed against Yao Ying, his ape-like arm extending to firmly grip her wrist, applying slight pressure.

With a crisp snap, Yao Ying’s hands trembled, and the dagger fell.

Low laughter came from behind the man’s fierce mask, the laugh carrying a wild, unrestrained quality: “Princess Wenzhao, you always like to hide in places like behind doors.”

Yao Ying’s blood froze as she met those sharp pale yellow eyes, her own eyes widening: Haidu Aling!

Haidu Aling sneered, his rough fingers gripping Yao Ying’s chin, saying contemptuously: “I told you, you can’t escape my grasp.”

Yao Ying’s teeth chattered as she tried to break free from his arms, but her limbs were stiff, unable to move at all.

Haidu Aling chuckled, bent down to pick her up, his golden-glowing eyes full of desire to conquer his prey: “Princess, you’ve played enough outside, time to go back.”

He carried Yao Ying out to the corridor, and leaped onto the courtyard wall, his figure rising and falling nimbly, in an instant passing over a row of rooftops.

Xie Qing and the others watched helplessly as Yao Ying was taken away, their eyes nearly popping out as they raised their swords to chase, but were entangled by other masked people. After a bitter fight, when they looked up again, there was only silvery moonlight—where was any trace of Yao Ying?

“Princess!”

Xie Chong shouted anxiously.

Carried out of the palace, Yao Ying could no longer hear her guards’ urgent calls. She heard only the whooshing wind and Haidu Aling’s steady, slow breathing. His strong ape-like arms held her tightly like iron bands, squeezing her so she couldn’t move.

She trembled slightly, seeing they were getting further from the palace. Gathering all her strength, she bit toward Haidu Aling’s neck.

Haidu Aling laughed lightly, nimbly avoiding it, catching her chin, his hot breath on her nose: “A few days apart, and the Princess has learned to bite?”

Just then, a mottled golden arc flashed through the cold moonlight.

Haidu Aling keenly sensed danger, his pupils contracting sharply as he held Yao Ying tight and leaped.

That arc moved faster than him, instantly catching up, pouncing onto his back, sharp claws slashing down.

The tough, flexible armor was torn open, and clothes were completely shredded.

Haidu Aling grunted, his ape-like arm muscles twisting as he struck out a palm into the air. His form wavered as he shook off the black shadow, jumping onto a roof ridge, and turning to coldly stare at the shadow.

Yao Ying followed his gaze.

A mottled-colored cheetah slowly stepped out from the darkness, its form lithe, movements light and graceful, yellow eyes flashing with strange phosphorescence.

Haidu Aling removed his mask, his face fierce as he put Yao Ying down and drew his sword, his gaze cold: “Sudan Gu, I’ve long wanted to meet you!”

Several soft sounds of roof tiles shaking, and the cheetah raised its tail, running east.

In the pale moonlight, whistling night wind, and rippling moonlight, a tall, thin figure stood on a rooftop, holding a long sword. Dressed in black, his face fearsome yet calm and indifferent, he seemed about to merge with the boundless silent night.

Like an Asura walking out from a ghost realm, cold and stern, fierce and merciless.

Haidu Aling coldly watched him, raising his long sword.

Sudan Gu stood against the wind, motionless, his black clothes flying wildly, outlining his sinewy form. Though thin, he was full of stored power, his whole body containing fierce, masculine energy.

Yao Ying stared at him, dazed.

Haidu Aling stepped forward with a light rebuke, closing in. The previously motionless Sudan Gu suddenly drew his sword, his figure moving like a falcon catching a rabbit. Sword light flashed as two athletic figures tangled in combat.

Yao Ying stood on the roof ridge, swaying in the wind, her heart racing as she watched the two men intently.

Haidu Aling moved nimbly and powerfully, advancing with fierce attacks, each sword stroke carrying tremendous force.

Sudan Gu was sharp and fierce, his presence overwhelming. Each killing stroke was ruthless, showing no mercy, yet his turns and movements carried an ancient, dignified composure, with an implicit sense of compassion.

After more than a hundred exchanges, they remained evenly matched, their forces clashing and colliding, roof tiles shattering, dust falling softly.

Haidu Aling grew impatient, angered by the long fight without result. He forced Sudan Gu into a corner, and shouted clearly, his muscles bulging as he raised his sword to strike at Sudan Gu.

This attack concentrated all his momentum, like a mountain pressing down—it would kill even Buddha!

Yao Ying held her breath tensely.

Sudan Gu stood tall, his face composed as he held his sword horizontally in his left hand. His momentum was like a rainbow, carrying surging, overwhelming dominance, he forcefully split apart Haidu Aling’s attack!

Haidu Aling stepped back, grunting again as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

He glanced behind him, seeing his men hadn’t caught up, his gaze dark as he suddenly retreated several steps, darting to Yao Ying’s side, hooking her waist as he turned to flee.

“Sudan Gu, we’ll meet again on the battlefield to determine who’s superior!”

Before Yao Ying could cry for help, a fierce sword wind attacked from behind. Amid fluttering robes, Sudan Gu caught up in several bounds, his form ghost-like as he slashed at Haidu Aling’s right arm.

Haidu Aling’s heart jumped in fear as he dodged the sword. Sudan Gu pressed forward, grabbing Yao Ying’s shoulders and pulling her into his embrace.

Yao Ying saw a cold flash at the corner of her eye and shouted: “Watch out!”

A short dagger emerged from Haidu Aling’s sleeve, aimed straight at Sudan Gu!

Sudan Gu, silent, his tall figure pouncing forward like an eagle catching a rabbit, his right hand hooked around Yao Ying’s waist as he passed by Haidu Aling, his left hand striking out a palm, the wind fierce and unstoppable.

Haidu Aling narrowed his eyes, withdrawing his dagger as he leaped backward.

Yao Ying’s heart pounded, cold sweat all over, as she frantically held onto Sudan Gu’s neck, her body pressed tightly against his chest, trembling slightly.

Sudan Gu carried her quickly across the rooftops, stopping on a courtyard wall, and turning to face Haidu Aling.

“Princess Wenzhao is the King’s Matanga. If there’s a next time, I won’t show mercy.”

He spoke word by word, his voice hoarse.

Haidu Aling’s face was as dark as water as he looked at Yao Ying shrinking in Sudan Gu’s embrace. His mouth twitched several times before he turned and strode away.