“Come, come — Master Xuanzang, you have suffered. It was this old monk’s poor planning that subjected the Master to such hardship.” Fa Ya smiled and beckoned Xuanzang with a wave of his hand, inviting him to be seated.

Xuanzang and Fa Ya had been quite well acquainted in Chang’an — one a venerable elder of the Buddhist establishment, the other a rising star. The two often sat together in meditation and debate. Among the monks of Chang’an, Xuanzang’s powers of argument had almost no match; only in Fa Ya’s presence did he consistently fail to get the better of things — because this old monk’s learning was far too wide-ranging.

“Since you are here, His Majesty must have arrived as well?” Xuanzang smiled wryly, climbed onto the couch platform, and sat across from Fa Ya. Boluoye was even less ceremonious — he plopped himself right down and reached for several cakes, stuffing them frantically into his mouth.

“Mm, he arrived yesterday.” Fa Ya smiled and poured Xuanzang a cup of tea with both hands. “This old monk has grown old; the journey has been wearying. I didn’t know Cui Jue had confined the Master here and couldn’t spare the time to come until now. Please forgive the delay.”

Xuanzang and Boluoye hadn’t eaten in two days and were starving to the point that front was pressing against back. He didn’t stand on ceremony, drank several bowls of tea, ate a little something, and then turned the events of the past several days over in his mind and settled his thoughts. He nodded. “In truth, this poor monk should have realized it was you from the start. Kong Cheng was your disciple, and he presided over Xingtang Temple — you were naturally the one operating behind the scenes. Besides, such an intricate and complex mechanical system could only have been designed by you.”

Fa Ya smiled and nodded. “What else has the Master determined?”

“The division of responsibilities.” Xuanzang thought for a moment. “A scheme of this scale — neither Kong Cheng nor Cui Jue could have been the mastermind and controller behind it all. To have conceived a plan this complex, to have mobilized resources of this magnitude, only you, old monk, could have done it. As this poor monk sees it, the Buddhist establishment was not broadly involved in this affair — at most it provided covert financial and material support — and only your position would have been capable of mobilizing the Buddhist establishment as a resource. As for the court side, the man in charge should be Lord Pei Ji, should it not? Building Xingtang Temple was the Grand Emperor’s decree, and a production of this scale could not have proceeded without a powerful figure in the court providing support. This poor monk initially suspected Xiao Yu — only his fervent devotion to Buddhism would drive him to support you at the risk of infuriating the Emperor. But his position and authority were not sufficient. Later, when this poor monk heard that Pei Ji’s standing was becoming precarious, I concluded that the powerful figure at court should be him.”

“Precisely so.” Fa Ya looked at him with admiration. “Lord Pei Ji was the Grand Emperor’s chief assistant. He did a number of things that displeased the current Emperor — suppressing the Prince of Qin’s household, executing Liu Wenjing, and the like. After His Majesty ascended the throne, his footing was not yet secure, and he was constrained by the ancient principle of ‘three years without changing the ways of one’s father,’ and so he did not act against Pei Ji immediately. But Pei Ji himself understood the situation clearly — remaining passive like this, his fate would eventually follow Liu Wenjing’s. So he joined forces with this old monk, arranged this scheme, and gambled everything on one desperate throw.”

“This poor monk still does not fully understand your ultimate objective — but given the current Emperor’s talent and vision, you may not achieve what you wish.” Xuanzang shook his head. “Your plan is highly meticulous: the Buddhist establishment provides the funds, Pei Ji in the court provides the protection — even the authority to deploy a military force to capture bandits for use as forced labor. At the local level, Cui Jue is the comprehensive manager; in the temple, your trusted disciple Kong Cheng holds the fort. As far as this poor monk can see, the only flaw up to this point was that the expenditure was simply too vast, which attracted the court’s attention and forced Cui Jue to fake his death, am I right?”

Fa Ya pondered for a moment and shook his head. “That cannot really be called a flaw. The funds at the time were not provided by the court — they were raised nominally as charitable donations by Cui Jue. So the accounts were not subject to court oversight. The court’s investigation of the accounts was certainly troublesome, but Cui Jue’s principal reason for faking his death was something else: by then the above-ground construction was complete, and the remaining underground works required his day-and-night supervision. So the county magistrate role was no longer viable, and he simply faked his death — killing two birds with one stone. First, a dead man’s accounts die with him, giving the court no further pretext. Second, it freed him to oversee the construction. The truly greatest flaw was not Cui Jue — it was Chang Jie.”

“Chang Jie?” Xuanzang was visibly shaken. “What role did my elder brother play in all of this?”

For years, Chang Jie’s killing of his master and flight had been a source of anguish for Xuanzang. He had made a solemn vow to find Chang Jie; just as the Brahmin woman of old, when her mother fell into hell, had vowed throughout all future kalpas to spare no effort in liberating her from suffering — so how could a younger brother watch his own elder brother, who had been as father to him since childhood, sink into a sea of bitterness without doing everything in his power?

This was why he had spent months traveling across the country in search of Chang Jie.

“Chang Jie was the most easily exposed person in this entire plan — the liaison and messenger.” Fa Ya sighed. “In truth, whether it was this old monk, Lord Pei Ji, Cui Jue, or Kong Cheng — all were relatively safe and unlikely to attract attention. The most exposed person was the one who ran back and forth, transmitting and coordinating the intentions of all parties. When this old monk was selecting a candidate for that role, I racked my brains trying to think of the right person. This person’s appearance needed to be ordinary, unremarkable; but his learning needed to be profound, able to go to any temple and persuade the abbots there; he also needed to be sharp-witted and bold, and to hold an unwavering faith in the Buddhist establishment. Do you know who we all unanimously agreed was the ideal candidate?”

He fixed his gaze on Xuanzang, his eyes full of endless depth and implication.

“Could it have been Chang Jie?” Xuanzang frowned.

“Not Chang Jie — but you! The monk Xuanzang, then merely twenty-one years old!” Fa Ya looked at him with complex feeling.

“Me?” Xuanzang was thunderstruck.

Even Boluoye forgot to eat and drink, a piece of crystal cake still stuffed in his mouth, staring blankly at Fa Ya.

“Ordinary appearance, profound learning, composed and calm, bold yet meticulous, steadfast in conviction…” Fa Ya sighed softly. “Who could surpass you in these qualities?”

“Right, right.” Boluoye murmured his agreement through a mouthful of food. He had witnessed firsthand just how formidable this monk was — these words were far from adequate to sum him up.

Xuanzang smiled bitterly. “And why did no one ever raise this with me?”

“It was not that this old monk was unwilling to approach you — it was that the abbot of Konghui Temple, Master Xuancheng, would not allow it.” Fa Ya said helplessly. “I don’t know why Master Xuancheng held you in such high regard, but he told this old monk directly: you were a figure of extraordinary talent not seen in the Buddhist establishment in a thousand years — one who might even bring the prosperity of Buddhism to an unprecedented peak. He absolutely would not allow this old monk to take you away and use you as a chess piece to be spent.”

“Master Xuancheng…” Xuanzang’s eyes grew moist. When the brothers had been fleeing as refugees to Yizhou, in the midst of chaos, with no food or shelter, it was Master Xuancheng who had taken them in, taught them with his whole heart, and given them precious scriptures without hesitation — enabling Xuanzang’s learning to advance enormously, so that he made a name for himself in Yizhou. Yet Master Xuancheng had never told Xuanzang that his hopes for him were so lofty!

“Later, you became fixed on the idea of traveling to study, touring the country — and you left a letter and departed without a word. This old monk was then at a loss. Just at that time, your brother Chang Jie came forward and volunteered for the role. Master Xuancheng had been considering making Chang Jie his successor and transmitting his teachings to him, and was hesitant. But Chang Jie was resolute in his desire to do it, and this old monk, seeing his determination was no less than yours, agreed.” Fa Ya continued.

Xuanzang felt his throat tighten. His brother… had walked this path in his place.

“Then why did he kill Master Xuancheng?” Xuanzang asked quietly.

“He had no choice — he could not but do it.” Fa Ya’s eyes grew moist as well. “Once set in motion, this old monk’s plan — if it succeeded — would secure the Buddhist establishment’s good fortune for a hundred years. But if a single weakness appeared, it would suffer a catastrophic blow. Not only would all those who participated lose their lives, but the temples involved — the entire Buddhist establishment — would face annihilation. For Chang Jie to take on this dangerous role, he had to completely sever all ties with Konghui Temple and with the entire Buddhist establishment — to become, in outward appearance, its enemy. So Master Xuancheng made the great sacrifice of his own life and willingly had Chang Jie’s blade take his head.”

Xuanzang quietly reconstructed that bloody scene in his mind — Master Xuancheng’s tragic heroism, the torment and agony within his brother Chang Jie’s heart. He could not have imagined, however he tried, that the kinsman he sought had been a martyr in this mysterious plan.

“And where is Chang Jie now?” Xuanzang asked, full of expectation.

Fa Ya smiled bitterly. “Where he is — no one in this world knows. If anyone did, he would already be dead.”

“How so?” Xuanzang asked in alarm.

Fa Ya hesitated, thought for a long while, then sighed. “Very well — this old monk will tell you the whole truth. To execute the plan and coordinate all parties, Chang Jie spent his days running among the temples and official residences of the capital. In the ninth year of Wude, the Xuanwu Gate coup erupted; the situation at court was in upheaval, and the plan could no longer proceed. This old monk decided to pull back — to temporarily conceal our strength. At that time Pei Ji’s position was hanging by a thread, and no one knew how the new emperor would treat him. To settle Pei Ji’s nerves, this old monk — not being convenient to appear in person — sent Chang Jie to stay at Pei Ji’s home, stabilize his state of mind, and perform Buddhist rites for him. Pei Ji’s household had three daughters; the eldest and second were already married, leaving only the third daughter — named Pei Xiang — still unwed. By some means or another — perhaps through the prolonged proximity, perhaps through the exhaustion of so many years of hardship — Chang Jie ended up making a secret vow of eternal love with the third young lady…”

“What?” Xuanzang couldn’t possibly have anticipated this turn of events and was struck absolutely speechless.

Fa Ya also smiled with helplessness. “This old monk had no inkling either! This kind of thing cannot be hidden from anyone. At the time, Pei Ji — as the Grand Emperor’s most trusted minister — did not know how the new emperor intended to deal with him and was consumed with anxiety every day. Then his own household produced this sort of complication. What was worse, the new emperor’s footing was not yet stable, and just then the Prince of Yian, Li Xiaochang, had launched a rebellion; the new emperor feared that the court’s powerful ministers had colluded with Li Xiaochang and was having Ill-Omened Men monitor Pei Ji’s household — and so even the Emperor came to know of it…”

The situation was genuinely critical. Even Xuanzang, who was outside the affair entirely, broke out in a cold sweat at the thought.

Boluoye interjected beside them. “That’s right — at the time I had already entered the Ill-Omened Men and was assigned to keep watch on a Western Region merchant’s household, because the Chief of Rogues suspected this merchant was supplying military equipment to Li Xiaochang.”

“And what happened next?” Xuanzang asked urgently.

“Next, Pei Ji flew into a rage and wanted to kill Chang Jie. But Chang Jie was remarkably resourceful — in the heavily guarded Chancellor’s residence, he actually contrived to spirit away the third young lady, and the two of them eloped together.” Fa Ya kept shaking his head. “The matter grew bigger and bigger; before long even the officials at court were aware of it, and Pei Ji was in an impossible position. He eventually dispatched a team of assassins in pursuit. It was at this point that this old monk came to appreciate just how well he had chosen — Chang Jie, alone, protecting a young woman, not only shook off the assassins but quietly managed to send two letters to both this old monk and Pei Ji.”

“What did those letters say?” Xuanzang asked.

Fa Ya thought for a moment. “He wrote in those letters that through all those years of enduring humiliation, concealing his identity, he had as good as broken every single monastic rule, and that the faith within him had long since collapsed. The only reason he continued living was that he did not know what he was living for. Then, meeting the third young lady, he came to understand another meaning of life. His only remaining wish for this lifetime was to go with the third young lady to some peaceful rural place, to farm and weave as a humble couple, never again to be entangled in the world’s struggles. He hoped this old monk and Pei Ji would spare his life.”

Though this came through Fa Ya’s retelling, Xuanzang could still feel the depths of Chang Jie’s anguish — beyond all words, beyond all relief. He gave a cold laugh. “Would you let him go?”

“He had considerable ability, you know — do you really think he was begging us?” Fa Ya smiled wryly. “He put together a complete dossier on our entire plan and lodged it somewhere unknown, declaring that the moment we moved against him, that document would be placed before the Emperor. What could we do?”

Xuanzang was at a loss for words.

“So this old monk and Pei Ji had no choice but to yield. Fine — let him do as he pleased! As long as we could successfully carry the plan through to the end, cover all traces when it was done — he could tell the Emperor himself to his face, and it would no longer matter.”

Xuanzang also could only smile bitterly. He truly hadn’t imagined that his own brother had so masterfully out-maneuvered even the strategist-monk Fa Ya. “No wonder — a few days ago when I mentioned him to Cui Jue, Cui Jue was full of bitter hatred for him. I see now — it was because he had betrayed you all.”

Fa Ya nodded, a look of something like compassion crossing his face. “The person in this world who hates Chang Jie most is probably Cui Jue.”

“And why is that?” Xuanzang asked, curious.

“Because Chang Jie caused Cui Jue terrible harm —” Fa Ya kept shaking his head.

At that moment, beneath where the two sat on the couch platform, a sudden tremor ran through it — as though some small animal were trying to burrow up from below. Xuanzang lurched to one side, and then a brilliant figure wriggled out from beneath the platform and seized hold of Fa Ya, crying, “What has happened to my father?”

Xuanzang and Boluoye both stared in stupefaction — the figure who had crawled out from beneath the platform was unmistakably Lu Luo!

“Young miss, composure now.” Fa Ya waved a hand. “Did I not tell you to listen carefully? Why emerge at this moment?”

“I want to see my father!” Lu Luo cast a quick glance at Xuanzang, then stared at Fa Ya. “I must see my father!”

“Your father cannot be seen at present.” Fa Ya smiled.

Xuanzang sighed. He didn’t know why Lu Luo had suddenly appeared here, but he knew the deep wish in this young woman’s heart. He said quietly, “Miss Lu Luo — your father is at this moment likely impersonating Kong Cheng and accompanying the Emperor.”

“Kong Cheng?” For some reason, Lu Luo’s gaze remained unwilling to meet Xuanzang’s eyes. She lowered her head. “Was Kong Cheng not already killed by me?”

Xuanzang smiled wryly. “Precisely because you killed Kong Cheng, your father has had no choice but to impersonate him and manage the Emperor.”

Xuanzang recounted what had happened in the Suo Po Courtyard on that day. Lu Luo suddenly raised her head, fixing her gaze on Xuanzang, her voice trembling. “Are you saying… the one who was with my mother that day… was my father?”

Fa Ya chuckled. “Young miss, did this old monk not tell you he could fulfill your every wish? Is it so unsatisfying to learn that the person meeting secretly with your mother was your own father?”

This overwhelming revelation left the simple, pure-hearted young girl rooted to the spot.

That day Fa Ya had brought her to Xingtang Temple, saying he would resolve the two difficulties in her heart. But when she woke she had found herself in the Bodhi Courtyard. Before long Fa Ya appeared, brought her into this hidden room, had her hide beneath the platform, and instructed her that no matter whom she saw or what she heard, she must not make a sound or come out.

Lu Luo had solemnly agreed — only to find that the one who came was Xuanzang!

She had long harbored unusual feelings for Xuanzang, and had assumed Fa Ya was coming to persuade Xuanzang to return to secular life and fulfill her wish. Her heart had immediately gone aflutter, her whole body going soft. But the two of them spoke of none of that — and as she sat in disappointment, she was utterly stunned by what she heard.

Her father was alive!

That faked death had been a staged suicide!

Though Lu Luo could act recklessly, she was not without guile; she had patiently listened until she heard something to the effect that her father had been terribly harmed by Chang Jie. That was the moment she could no longer hold herself back and scrambled out.

She thought in a daze for a long moment, then asked, “Then… Father meeting with Mother in secret — that would be… all right, wouldn’t it? But what about Guo Zai? Mother did marry him, after all. Doesn’t that mean she wronged him?”

At these words, even the two highly intelligent figures of Fa Ya and Xuanzang were at a loss for each other’s eyes, utterly unable to speak. How was one to answer this? To say that Li Youniang had been disloyal to her marriage? That wasn’t right either — the man was still her former husband. To say she should have been conducting those secret meetings with Cui Jue? That was even more improper. Even though the two of them had never formally divorced, Cui Jue had died — which automatically annulled the marriage — and she had remarried Guo Zai.

Both men were suddenly at a terrible headache.

Fa Ya could only deflect by changing the subject. “Young miss — would this old monk not say he has unlocked the shackles on your heart? Surely you will no longer hate your mother now?”

Lu Luo thought it over and found she really couldn’t figure out this tangle of relationships. But her hatred for her mother had in any case greatly diminished. It seemed… it seemed that if the person in the secret meeting was her father, it wasn’t altogether impossible to accept. So she nodded.

“This old monk is a man of his word — would you say he has fulfilled the first of your wishes?” Fa Ya said with a smile.

Lu Luo’s face went red and she nodded, dropping into a proper bow of courtesy. “Many thanks, Master.”

Xuanzang and Boluoye had never seen her display such gentle propriety, and both were briefly dazed. Watching her with her chin tucked in and her little face looking entirely serious, Boluoye actually felt sorry for her and burst out laughing. Lu Luo shot him a fierce glare; Boluoye immediately fell silent.

Fa Ya gave a quiet cough. Lu Luo instantly dropped her eyes and sat meekly on the platform. The manner was that of an obedient young wife. Xuanzang and Boluoye found it both amusing and astonishing. What technique had this old monk used to subdue this little demon-girl so completely?

These two had suffered at Lu Luo’s hands far too many times to believe she had overnight become a refined young lady of good family — there was definitely something going on here.

“And your second matter of concern…” Fa Ya chuckled.

“Master…” Lu Luo, her face scarlet, shot a lightning-fast glance at Xuanzang and immediately looked down again.

“What is there to be shy about? A man should marry when the time is right, a woman should be wed — it’s nothing shameful.” Fa Ya laughed out loud, and said to Xuanzang, “This old monk will be direct about it: Master, Miss Lu Luo has certain feelings for you…”

He was still arranging his words when Xuanzang already nodded. “This poor monk knows.”

Fa Ya was caught off guard. “You know?”

“Of course.” Xuanzang said mildly. “Miss Lu Luo has always believed her father Cui Jue was driven to his death by Chang Jie, and so bore a grudge against this poor monk and wanted to kill me. Now, however, you know Cui Jue is still alive and that matters fell out differently from what you supposed — I trust you will no longer be making covert attempts on this poor monk’s life?”

Xuanzang had found this business quite a headache for some time. Who wouldn’t be nervous with a volatile little assassin following them around who might run a blade through them at any unguarded moment?

Lu Luo’s small head swung back and forth like a rattle drum: “I… won’t… no more…”

Fa Ya smiled bitterly at length. “Master, what this old monk speaks of is not this matter. Master — in truth, Miss Lu Luo has fallen in love with you, and hopes the Master will return to secular life, to form a bond of lifelong happiness with her…”

“Pfft —” Xuanzang spat out a mouthful of tea. Then his mouth hung open.

“Ugh… cough cough…” Boluoye, meanwhile, was choking on a cake, his dark face turning crimson.

Lu Luo hadn’t expected him to just come out and say it so bluntly; she was instantly paralyzed with simultaneous humiliation and indignation, her face scarlet, her head bowed deeply.

For a moment, all four people in the room stared at one another, unable to say a word.

“Amitabha.” After a long while, Xuanzang finally recovered, pressed his palms together solemnly, and said, “Master Fa Ya — what can this mean? You and I have known each other for some years now — surely you are aware of this poor monk’s devotion to the Way? This humble body of mine was long since entrusted to the ancient lamp and the eternal Buddha, to no more earthly entanglements. Miss Lu Luo is of a young, girlish temperament — and what manner of person is the Master, that you would lead an innocent young woman down a misguided path?”

“I am not of a young, girlish temperament!” Lu Luo raised her head sharply, her tear-filled eyes looking at him with defiance. “I have fallen in love with you — so what? Is that forbidden?”

Xuanzang was wordless, murmuring sutras under his breath.

“Boluoye said that love is never something to be ashamed of — it is the most beautiful feeling in the world.” Lu Luo’s eyes were swimming with tears. “I have fallen in love with you. Why should I not dare to say it? Why must I hide it? You are a Buddhist, you are a saint — you can sever the six desires and cast off the world of dust. I am merely an ordinary person. Is it my fault to have fallen in love with someone?”

Xuanzang glared at Boluoye fiercely.

Boluoye wore an expression of profound injustice. “I only explained the Kama Sutra to her — I certainly didn’t tell her to fall in love with a monk.”

Xuanzang was furious, but could do nothing about him.

Fa Ya sighed. “Master, this old monk knows this is asking a great deal — but there is a genuine reason it cannot be helped.”

“You beguiled an ignorant young woman — what reason could there possibly be for it? With your resourcefulness, would this not have been child’s play?” Xuanzang looked at him coldly with a touch of sarcasm.

“The Master does not know the full picture.” Fa Ya said wryly. “Ten years ago, Master Xuancheng instructed this old monk that under no circumstances whatsoever was he to take the Master’s life. Later, when you chose not to participate in this plan, the matter had no further relevance. But several months ago, when you insisted on coming to Huoyi in order to find Chang Jie, this old monk specifically sent word to Kong Cheng and Cui Jue, asking them to protect your safety. Yet who could have anticipated that the Master would be truly formidable — relying entirely on your own efforts, you gradually approached the very core of this plan, forcing Cui Jue to reveal himself. For some reason, Cui Jue became firmly convinced that you are the most dangerous possible adversary — that not only would you never accept our plan, but you would expose it to the outside world. So he requested permission from this old monk again and again to kill you. But this old monk had made a promise to Master Xuancheng — how could I go back on my word? I repeatedly refused, demanding that he not act rashly.”

Xuanzang believed this account, because Cui Jue himself had said he had promised someone he could not kill him — which seemed to have been under Fa Ya’s pressure.

“Yet…” Fa Ya kept sighing, “A few days ago, Cui Jue went to Huoyi County’s rear compound and learned that his precious daughter had actually fallen in love with you, this monk! He was furious beyond measure and insisted even more adamantly on killing you. So he made a wager with this old monk: whether to kill you or not would not be decided by either of us — the decision would rest with Lu Luo!”

“What?” Xuanzang and Lu Luo both looked at him in astonishment.

“The idea was to see whether, in Lu Luo’s heart, her father mattered more, or you, the monk.” Fa Ya said. “You have now learned our secrets. If we let you go, surely you would tell His Majesty about them?”

Xuanzang thought for a moment and then nodded firmly. “Correct. This poor monk does not know the core of your plan, but this poor monk knows: your plan must inevitably harm the Emperor’s dignity and undermine the court’s rule of law. Such madness — once the court becomes aware of it, it will be a calamity for the Buddhist establishment. This poor monk will not permit such a thing to occur. Moreover, the Buddhist establishment ought not to seek its own prosperity through such covert and bizarre means. The profound meaning of Buddhism lies in transforming the human heart. What you are doing is nothing but a perverse path.”

“Cui Jue’s assessment of you was truly accurate!” Fa Ya looked at him with regret, then glanced at Lu Luo. “Young miss, the situation as it stands is now clear to you, is it not? If this monk walks out of here, everything your father has done will be laid bare in broad daylight. The court will be furious. Your father will certainly lose his head — and your mother and Guo Zai will not escape being put to death either. You are the one who must weigh what matters more.”

Lu Luo was thunderstruck. She hadn’t imagined that what she faced was not a beautiful romance but a choice that would tear her apart.

“Why must I be the one to choose?” Lu Luo glared at him, her voice cracking.

“This is not this old monk’s idea.” Fa Ya sighed. “It is your father’s idea. He believes that only by having you personally cut the bond of sinful attachment between yourself and this monk can you be truly free. A father’s authority guides a child’s life — your destiny is for your father to decide. This old monk has no say in the matter.”

Lu Luo gazed at Xuanzang with hollow eyes, tears streaming down her fair face.

“There is actually a very simple resolution,” Fa Ya said. “So long as Xuanzang agrees to return to secular life, everything will be resolved.”

Xuanzang simply stopped paying attention to him.

“Hmph — do you think you can do whatever you like?” Boluoye said coldly, drawing his curved blade from his robe. “If this old man fights his way out, I doubt you, with your aged arms and legs, could stop me.”

Fa Ya smiled at him and said nothing.

Boluoye sensed something was wrong. He jumped off the platform and leapt to the window. Just as he was about to kick it open, he froze. He pushed the window cautiously — it didn’t move. He stabbed a hole in the window paper with his knife, and a cold blast of wind came rushing in. He narrowed his eyes and looked outside — and was rooted to the spot.

Beyond the window was nothing but open sky stretching ten thousand li, and below — a drop of ten thousand fathoms.

Boluoye’s face muscles twisted. Only now did he understand: this room was suspended in the middle of a sheer cliff-face!

“Very well.” Fa Ya rose from the platform and said mildly, “This old monk still has pressing business. I will take my leave for now. The rest of you, deliberate carefully.” And with that, he strode toward a solid wall. Just as it seemed he must collide head-on with it, half the wall suddenly pivoted; Fa Ya slipped through, and the wall swung thunderously shut again.

“Master — what do we do?” Boluoye cried.

Xuanzang shook his head and looked at Lu Luo. “Now it is a question of what Miss Lu Luo intends to do.”

The third year of Zhenguan, the fifteenth day of the fourth month.

According to the two spirit soldiers, today was the day Li Shimin was to go to hell and answer the charges. Li Shimin’s mood was extremely poor; Pei Ji was also deeply worried, and had specifically asked Kong Cheng personally to perform a Buddhist rite for the Emperor, offering prayers and seeking blessings. Yet Li Shimin remained depressed and unable to settle his mind — a sense of his own powerlessness before the supernatural, pressing on the imperial authority, made him bitterly agitated.

“For me, the Son of Heaven, to be at the mercy of petty underworld spirit soldiers!” Standing in the magnificent Great Hall of the Buddha, Li Shimin was in a state of restless exasperation. Wei Zheng and Du Ruhui, though at his side, also had no way to settle his mood.

At this point Pei Ji was suddenly struck by an idea. He said urgently, “Your Majesty — have you ever heard of a certain Cui Jue?”

“Cui Jue?” Li Shimin thought for a moment, the name bringing up a vague impression. Then his mind clicked. “You mean the Chief Scribe of the Taiyuan Garrison in those days — Cui Jue, courtesy name Mengzhi?”

“Exactly — his literary name was Fengzi.” Pei Ji smiled. “Does Your Majesty know what became of him afterward?”

This brought it all back for Li Shimin. “This man wrote poetry and prose with exceptional skill. After the battle of Huoyi against Song Laosheng, the Grand Emperor appointed him, if I recall, as County Magistrate of Huoyi. I remember that when we broke through Liu Wuzhou and Song Jingang and passed through Huoyi, Cui Jue led the entire county population to hide in the mountains, and my father issued an imperial rebuke. After that I heard nothing more of him.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help glancing at Yuchi Jingde standing beside him, a smile crossing his face. Yuchi Jingde looked somewhat awkward: he had originally been one of Liu Wuzhou’s most formidable generals, repeatedly matching forces with Li Shimin on the battlefield. Only after Liu Wuzhou’s defeat, with himself and his deputy commander Xun Xiang trapped and defending Jiexiu and Huoyi, did he finally present the two cities and submit to Li Shimin. At this moment, with his former lord mentioned, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of something.

But Pei Ji paid no attention to Yuchi Jingde’s feelings, and continued: “In the third year of Wude, when Xun Xiang sought to defect, Cui Jue made a lone attempt to assassinate Xun Xiang; failing, he led the entire county population into the Huoshan Mountains, until Your Majesty’s victory at Baibizi broke Liu Wuzhou and Huoyi was retaken — only then did he return to the city. In the final assessment, the Grand Emperor judged that Cui Jue’s merits in protecting the county population offset his fault in losing the city, and he remained as County Magistrate of Huoyi. In the sixth year of Wude, he hanged himself for reasons unknown.”

“Oh?” Li Shimin was moved. “I heard long ago of Cui Jue’s lone attempt to assassinate Xun Xiang and greatly admired his singular courage and loyalty. In the face of Liu Wuzhou’s great army, he protected the entire county population — what is losing a city worth? He was a civil official besides. With Huoyi garrisoned by Xun Xiang, he could protect the people in a time of crisis — this man had enormous merit!”

Pei Ji could hardly criticize Li Yuan’s dispensation of rewards and punishments, so he remained silent.

“So why did he hang himself afterward?” Li Shimin asked.

“This I am not entirely clear on.” Pei Ji said helplessly.

Wei Zheng’s lip curled slightly in a faint sneer from beside him, but he did not interject, watching Pei Ji with interest. Pei Ji felt the gaze and his heart sank — but he continued with a pretense of unawareness: “In any case, after Cui Jue’s death, local people spread the legend that he had entered the underworld of Ni Li Purgatory and become a Judge of the Dead.”

“You say what?” Li Shimin was startled.

Pei Ji then related at length all the various wondrous legends about Cui Jue that circulated among the people. Li Shimin found them highly improbable, but Pei Ji said, “These matters are strange and hard to trust, yet the local people do speak of them with great conviction. County Magistrate Guo Zai is waiting just outside the hall. Your Majesty might summon him and inquire.”

Li Shimin’s interest was piqued. He immediately ordered a eunuch to summon Guo Zai. Guo Zai and the newly appointed Prefect Du Chuke and other local officials had all been waiting outside the great hall; hearing the summons, Guo Zai hurried in. His massive frame came forward before Li Shimin, and he bowed and knelt in obeisance.

Li Shimin could not help being pleased every time he saw this man. He nodded with a smile. “What a County Magistrate built like a fierce tiger! I regret not keeping you on the battlefield, making you a local administrator instead — that is my failing.”

Guo Zai said, “Your Majesty won the realm on horseback, and so your subject naturally rode alongside Your Majesty to kill on the battlefield. Now Your Majesty has dismounted to govern the realm, and so your subject naturally also dismounts to comfort and settle one locality. I dare not slacken for a single moment.”

“Oh?” Li Shimin was genuinely taken by surprise, and pointed at Guo Zai, laughing to Du Ruhui and the others. “Serving as a local official has clearly brought real improvement! This former fierce warrior of the battlefield — able now to speak such lofty reasoning. Guo Zai — this posting in Huoyi is frankly a waste of your talents. When I return to the capital, you come with me and join the Sixteen Guards to protect the palace gate for me — what say you?”

Guo Zai was immediately overjoyed. He had long been overwhelmed by the endless tedious affairs of the county and had been desperate for this outcome. At the prospect of returning to active service — and in the most elite Imperial Guards of the Tang — his dark face glowed bright red. He bowed in gratitude repeatedly.

Yuchi Jingde also had a great deal of regard for this former valiant soldier and was delighted to see His Majesty personally bringing him into the Imperial Guards.

“Guo Zai — I ask you: the former County Magistrate of Huoyi, Cui Jue — people say after his death he became a Judge of the Dead in Ni Li Purgatory. Are you familiar with this?”

“Ah…” Guo Zai felt a surge of gloom. The name he most hated to hear in his whole life was Cui Jue. Every time this name was mentioned, he felt as though his wife might sprout wings and fly away. So in his daily life his county colleagues avoided bringing it up. And yet these past several months, first Xuanzang, then the Emperor — both of them kept asking him about Cui Jue.

But the Emperor had asked, and he dared not refuse to answer. He recounted all the strange and wondrous things attributed to Cui Jue. He certainly dared not deceive the Emperor, and brought forward every supporting detail — the names of people and places involved in each incident — leaving nothing out.

Li Shimin’s expression turned peculiar. “There is truly something to this? You say there is a shrine to Cui Jue right here on Huoshan?”

“There is — not far from Xingtang Temple, called the Judge’s Temple.” Guo Zai replied. “People from all the counties of Jinzhou frequently come to burn incense, and there are even pilgrims from the surrounding prefectures who travel far to visit. They say it is quite efficacious.”

Li Shimin nodded thoughtfully.

“Your Majesty,” Pei Ji said with a smile. “It is your subject’s view that, in matters of the underworld, the solution should come from those of the underworld. Since the current Judge of Ni Li Purgatory was once your subject in life, if Judge Cui were willing to speak on your behalf — what would two petty spirit soldiers matter?”

Li Shimin was dumbfounded, and after a long pause smiled wryly. “Minister Pei speaks well. I can only hope that Cui Jue still remembers some bond of gratitude to me!”

“Your Majesty,” Wei Zheng suddenly smiled, “since Lord Pei presents it so dramatically, why not go to the Judge’s Temple and see for ourselves?”

Pei Ji felt a lurch in his heart, yet kept his face all smiles. “Quite so — since even Lord Wei is interested, Your Majesty might consider moving there to see — perhaps we might obtain Judge Cui’s assistance and these spirit soldiers will cease to trouble us.”

Between the two of them urging him, Li Shimin actually grew genuinely interested and immediately ordered the procession to move, heading to the Judge’s Temple. Kong Cheng personally led the way. Yuchi Jingde first ordered the Imperial Guards to clear the road of bystanders, and under the protection of a thousand Imperial Guards, the entire party set off in grand fashion directly for the Judge’s Temple.

The Judge’s Temple was not far from Xingtang Temple — only a dozen or so li of mountain road. Kong Cheng had certainly not dared to have the Emperor scramble over the mountains; they went by the main road. Li Shimin was an emperor on horseback and did not take the imperial carriage; riding a white horse, they arrived before the temple in short order.

The temple caretaker had long since received word and was kneeling at the roadside to welcome the procession.

Li Shimin ascended the steps, arrived at the temple gate, and remarked admiringly on how imposing the temple structure was before walking inside. The moment he laid eyes on the white, serene statue within and the fearsome yaksha demons surrounding it, he couldn’t help pausing. Dimly, he felt the yakshas’ appearances bore a resemblance to the spirit soldiers he had seen at Taiping Pass.

“The Six Paths’ Book of Life and Death, the Three Realms’ Brush of Rebirth?” Li Shimin stared at the scroll volumes and the great brush in the yakshas’ hands, momentarily lost in thought. Were a person’s allotted years truly recorded in those scrolls?

For a moment, Li Shimin felt a vague trembling of awe — not knowing quite how to face this Judge Cui. He was the Great Tang Son of Heaven; to come pay his respects at the temple of a former subject was already an act of extraordinary imperial grace. Yet none of the ordinary temple proprieties seemed applicable here, and he hesitated momentarily.

Wei Zheng quickly said, “Your Majesty — you are the Son of Heaven, and Cui Jue was once your subject. Though he is now a Judge of Ni Li Purgatory, it would not be proper for a ruler to bow to a subject. A respectful clasp of hands and a bow would be sufficient.”

Li Shimin nodded. But Pei Ji came forward with a grave expression. “It is your subject’s view that Your Majesty should not offer a salute to Judge Cui at all. The Earth God is a figure within the recognized hierarchy of divine beings — for Your Majesty to bow before him is to seek his protection over the welfare of a region. Cui Jue, though now a Judge of the underworld, is the official of a different realm — you are the ruler of the human world. How can you bow to an official of the Underworld Administration? Allow your subject to make the obeisance on Your Majesty’s behalf.”

Li Shimin considered and nodded. “That is good.”

Pei Ji then stepped before Cui Jue’s divine statue, swept aside his brocade robe, and knelt, saying loudly: “An old colleague from former times — Long History of the Taiyuan Garrison Command — greets his old friend Mengzhi at his feet!”

Li Shimin kept nodding in approval. These proprieties were well conceived: Pei Ji presented himself not in his identity as Prime Minister of the Tang but as a former friend paying respects to the deceased, a form that admirably preserved the court’s dignity while giving Cui Jue the fullest honor. Even Wei Zheng and Du Ruhui — who had long been at odds with Pei Ji — could not help nodding in reluctant admiration. This old fellow, in a moment of crisis, truly had quick wit.

“Mengzhi — of talent towering to the Northern Dipper and learning that overshadowed all of Hedong — yet heaven was unkind to this man, and he died in his prime. Pei Ji heard of it and wept with grief. Today I accompany the Great Tang Son of Heaven to pay respects before your spirit, and pray only that the departed spirit lives on undimmed, your noble air enduring forever. Of late, spirit soldiers of Ni Li Purgatory appeared before His Majesty, claiming that there is a lawsuit in the underworld, and beseeching His Majesty to appear in Ni Li Purgatory before the fifteenth of the fourth month and answer the charges. His Majesty, as the Son of Heaven, lord over all the realm, rules the human world — how could he descend into the underworld to answer a summons? Hearing that you, my friend, now serve in high office as Judge, dispensing good and punishing evil, Pei Ji presumes on the bond of old friendship to ask you to mediate — to bless and protect His Majesty’s dragon health, that he be free from demonic harassment, long-lived, and his dynasty eternal. Pei Ji is willing to disperse all his wealth, donate his residence, construct a seven-storied pagoda, and have a new golden image cast for you, with the temple rebuilt from the foundations.”

With this, Pei Ji knocked his forehead three times on the ground with a resounding thud, then lit three tall sticks of incense and inserted them reverently into the incense burner before him.

For a moment, the great hall fell into complete silence. Li Shimin gazed at Pei Ji with a complex expression. To invoke Cui Jue’s protection, Pei Ji had made a solemn pledge: to disperse all his wealth, even to surrender his residence to the temple — and all of this out of loyalty to the imperial person. Such devotion moved Li Shimin despite himself. Even though Li Shimin had long harbored resentment against Pei Ji for the death of Liu Wenjing, in this moment he felt genuine emotion.

“You have suffered for my sake, Minister Pei.” Li Shimin murmured.

Pei Ji’s eyes reddened and he very nearly shed tears. “In the three years since Your Majesty’s enthronement, governing tirelessly and loving the people, all under heaven has seen a renaissance from desolation — already the atmosphere of a prosperous age can be felt. How could your subject allow demonic interference to harm Your Majesty’s health? Your subject has grown old and fears he can no longer accompany Your Majesty in opening frontiers and forging a glorious age. This heart is all your subject has left to offer.”

Li Shimin said nothing, raised his eyes to gaze at the statue of Judge Cui for a moment, then turned and walked out of the great hall. The ministers followed. But at the hall doorway, Li Shimin stopped again and said, “Keming — convey our decree: Cui Jue is posthumously appointed as Puzhou Prefect and Inspector of Twenty-Four Circuits in Hebei.”

Du Ruhui was startled for a moment, then bowed. “By your command.”

Beside him, a flash of light passed through Kong Cheng’s eyes — as though he had been inwardly shaken. Pei Ji dared not look at him, and walked on with head bowed.

With a single word from the Son of Heaven, Cui Jue — who had spent an entire lifetime as a county magistrate in frustrated obscurity — was, seven years after his death, suddenly transformed into a proper fourth-rank court official, only one rank below Wei Zheng.