The felt curtain fell, and candlelight flickered within the room.
Yaoying followed Tanmoroqie inside. "What did the Dharma Master wish to discuss with me?"
Tanmoroqie paused abruptly and stopped walking.
Yaoying nearly stepped on his kasaya, quickly halting her steps and looking up.
He turned to gaze at her, his deep green eyes resting on her face.
"Bi Suo is still investigating the temple guards. Princess, settle here for now. At daybreak, Yuanjue will escort you back."
Yaoying was somewhat surprised. Did Tanmoroqie keep her here only because he feared there might still be hidden assailants in Wang Temple?
A few days earlier, he had feigned weakness intentionally. With the area outside Wang Temple teeming with all sorts of people, intruders had managed to infiltrate. Now that he had purged the court and consolidated military power, no one would dare openly spy on Wang Temple. The city was under strict curfew, so it should be safe.
She had thought Tanmoroqie kept her here to discuss preparations against the Northern Rong.
A warmth spread in her heart, and she smiled. "Then I'll be troubling the Dharma Master again tonight."
Tanmoroqie remained silent, brushed aside the brocade curtain, and entered.
Yaoying did not follow him inside. Familiar with the layout, she found bedding in the outer chamber, chose an inconspicuous corner, and sat cross-legged with the quilt in her arms. Neither the inner nor outer sections of the Zen room had high, spacious beds—only low sitting platforms and carpets spread on the floor. She had slept on the carpet the previous night.
Having slept too much yesterday, she wasn’t tired now. She took out paper and a brush, spread the paper open, and examined it carefully by the candlelight.
The brocade curtain swayed gently, and the flickering candlelight caught the hem of a snow-white kasaya.
Holding the paper, Yaoying lifted her head.
Tanmoroqie stood before her, his eyes lowered, dark lashes casting shadows. The dim candlelight outlined a long shadow on the floor.
Unable to discern the expression on his face, Yaoying rubbed her eyes and asked softly, "Did I disturb the Dharma Master?"
The corners of her eyes were slightly red, as if brushed with bright rouge. Though she wasn’t smiling, her eyes still seemed to hold a hint of laughter. The hazy candlelight cast a subtle charm on her face, yet her gaze remained clear and pure.
Tanmoroqie glanced at the rolled-up bedding beside her.
Following his gaze, Yaoying patted the quilt and said, "I’ll sleep here."
She had endured harsh conditions before—sleeping in tents, carriages, sand, caves, and forests—so she didn’t mind where she rested.
Tanmoroqie bent down and moved the candleholder away.
With the only light source taken, Yaoying was momentarily stunned and had no choice but to stand up and follow.
Tanmoroqie entered the inner chamber, placed the candleholder on a small table beside a couch behind the screen, and said, "I have never used this couch. Princess, you may settle here."
The low couch was layered with Persian brocade, complete with quilts and pillows, neatly arranged without a single wrinkle—clearly untouched.
Yaoying thanked him. As he turned to leave, she thought for a moment and asked, "May I borrow the writing tools from the Dharma Master’s desk?"
Afraid of accidentally disturbing his desk or inadvertently seeing something she shouldn’t, she had refrained from touching anything in the Zen room during the day and had always asked Bā mǐ ěr for paper and brushes.
With his back to her, Tanmoroqie nodded. "You may use anything in the room as you wish. If anything is missing, have it brought to you."
He walked out, and the brocade curtain fell, separating the inner and outer chambers.
Yaoying approached Tanmoroqie’s desk, selected a brush, sat cross-legged, and began writing and sketching on the paper, her movements deliberately soft.This time, when Tanmoroqie reorganized the four armies without revealing Su Dan Gu, he surely had his considerations. He and Wahan Khan were old rivals—only he knew how to lure Wahan Khan step by step.
From her instigation of discord between Wahan Khan and Haidu Aling, to the fratricidal strife among Haidu Aling, Jin Bo, and others, to Wahan Khan setting a trap to bait the Royal Court into sending troops, and now to his personal appearance to consolidate military power witnessed by envoys from various nations... the game between him and Wahan Khan had been ongoing.
All she needed to do was wait patiently and seek opportunities.
Yaoying silently calculated, drawing map after map, yet remained unsatisfied.
A soft snap echoed, a wisp of blue smoke curling upward as the candle flame extinguished, plunging the inner chamber into darkness.
Yaoying snapped out of her thoughts, rubbed her fingers, tidied the papers, and tiptoed back to the bed. Lifting the brocade curtain, she peered outside.
The outer room was pitch-black, the light dim. Tanmoroqie sat cross-legged before the long table, eyes closed in meditation, his figure as still as a Buddha statue.
Do monks always sleep like this at night?
Yaoying muttered to herself, lay down, and closed her eyes.
She had barely fallen asleep when she turned over, vaguely sensing a gaze fixed upon her. Startled in her dream, she woke abruptly.
On the Eagle Scaffold, a pair of gleaming eyes stared eerily at her in the dark.
A chill ran down Yaoying’s spine, but she quickly realized it was the falcon Garuda, raised by the Buddha Prince. She chuckled softly and closed her eyes to sleep again.
Before she could drift off, the sound of flapping wings reached her ears. The falcon flew to the low couch, its sharp claws hooking and tearing at the quilt, its beak gently pecking her arm.
The pecking stung slightly, and Yaoying sat up helplessly. The falcon tugged at her clothes, its wings flapping vigorously as if trying to pull her up.
"Are you hungry? Should I feed you some dried meat?"
The falcon remained unmoved and continued pecking at Yaoying.
Too disturbed to sleep, Yaoying stood up and lifted the brocade curtain, intending to ask Tanmoroqie for help. But when her gaze swept over where he was meditating, she froze in shock.
Tanmoroqie’s body trembled slightly, drenched in sweat that covered his face and neck, even soaking half of his Kasaya.
He didn’t seem right.
Had the falcon woken her because of this?
Yaoying stepped barefoot onto the floor and hurried to Tanmoroqie’s side.
"Venerable?"
She called to him softly.
Tanmoroqie’s eyes remained tightly shut, unresponsive.
Yaoying extended two fingers and gently touched his shoulder.
…
Tanmoroqie had entered deep meditation.
He had broken the precept against killing and went to the punishment hall to receive his penalty. Waves of pain pierced his back like needles drilling into bone, seeping deep into his marrow.
Having made such a choice, he deserved this punishment.
He had long grown accustomed to such suffering and did not find it particularly unbearable. On his way back from the punishment hall to the Zen room, no one noticed anything amiss. Only when he suddenly saw the young woman’s radiant, smiling face did he freeze for a moment.
After settling her, he silently recited Scriptures, feeling as though his spirit had drifted away, his consciousness floating, his mind empty and clear. Boundless darkness engulfed him.
In a dim prison cell, a child in gray Monk's robes stood before a wrinkled elder, reciting Scriptures in a clear, bright voice.
Tanmoroqie recognized his younger self.From birth, he was confined within the prison hall. His mentor, Pololiuzhi, came daily to instruct him in the Buddhist Dharma, describing the widespread suffering and devastation in the war-torn world outside, and teaching him to use the Dharma to save the people from the chaos of war and deliver all sentient beings.
He could memorize the Scriptures after just one reading, and quickly mastered the characters his mentor taught. When monks from the temple came to test him, he answered fluently and effortlessly.
The monks praised his early wisdom and innate talent, declaring he was destined to become a great vessel of the Buddhist tradition.
His mentor was overjoyed and placed high hopes in him.
"Luojia, you are the ruler of the Royal Court, the reincarnated Buddha Prince. You will surely pacify this turbulent era and rescue the suffering masses displaced by war!"
"Though the Zhang family holds power in the court, they cannot control the situation. They only know how to impose heavy taxes and plunder ruthlessly, losing the people's support. The common people only recognize the kings of the Tanmo family. When you grow up and assume power, you can reform the corrupt systems and deliver the people from their misery."
"Luojia, you must diligently study the Buddhist Dharma and assume power soon!"
Tanmoroqie devoted himself to cultivation, earnestly learning how to become a qualified Buddha Prince and ruler.
As his reputation for early wisdom spread, the common people began to hope he would quickly assume power. The noble families grew furious and resentful, trying every means to torment him, aiming to completely break him.
The guards withheld food from him, and he grew dizzy with hunger, relying on Buddhist scriptures to endure the physical suffering.
Soldiers deliberately whipped prisoners in the adjacent cell, the screams piercing his ears. Remembering his mentor's instructions, he silently recited scriptures to drive away fear.
At a young age, he could recite scriptures, study classics thoroughly, speak eloquently, and expound Buddhist verses.
The world revered and loved him, hoping he would grow up quickly to lead them to peaceful and happy lives.
However, when the Zhang family brought him to the square and beheaded his male and female relatives one by one, he could only stand there, watching his clansmen die one after another.
His terrified clansmen knelt and begged for mercy, trembling beneath blood-stained blades.
"Have mercy, have mercy! Spare my child!"
"He's not even tall enough to reach a cart wheel! Kill me instead, spare him!"
"Please show compassion..."
"Commander, spare me! I'll serve you like an ox or horse..."
"I beg you, don't kill my mother, don't kill my mother..."
Blades rose and fell, flesh and blood flew everywhere, pleas for mercy abruptly ceased, and more screams and wails rose, merging into a chorus that echoed over the square for a long time.
Tanmoroqie stood among the fallen corpses, blood splattered across his face and head. Thick droplets slowly trickled down his Monk's robes, drip, drip.
The dripping sound continued for a very long time.
So long that all pleas for mercy finally stopped, leaving only dismembered limbs before his eyes.
One vibrant life after another vanished right before him.
Chima's wails were hysterical, desolate and hopeless.
She clutched him tightly, her fingers spasming, screaming at him.
"Why aren't you crying? Why don't you have a single tear?"
"You entered monastic life as a child... You don't care about anything... You can't feel grief..."
Holding her dead relatives, she wept bitterly.
Tanmoroqie fell seriously ill. In his delirium, countless demons and evil spirits danced and celebrated around him, while the ghosts of his dead relatives screamed in agony by his ears.
He sank and struggled in his illness, as if trapped in the gloomy Avici Hell, his body constantly torn apart, his bones mercilessly beaten, enduring immense torment.The master sighed sorrowfully, saying that at such a young age, he had witnessed the deaths of his clansmen with his own eyes and was deeply traumatized. He feared the boy had already developed inner demons and would no longer be able to make progress in Buddhist Dharma.
After recovering from his illness, he picked up the Buddhist scriptures again and began studying them.
The master wept with joy.
"Luojia, you actually overcame this ordeal—truly extraordinary! This is the Buddha's trial for you. You are the reincarnation of Ananda, destined to endure countless hardships to temper your resolve, sever attachments, eliminate afflictions, enter Nirvana, and attain Bodhi."
Tanmoroqie, with his strong will, expelled the inner demons and, as before, firmly believed that Buddhist Dharma could ultimately liberate all sentient beings.
But there were things even Buddhist Dharma could not accomplish.
Buddhist Dharma could guide him to transcend life and death, escape the three realms, realize the truth of cessation, and forever break free from the suffering of the six paths of reincarnation.
Yet Buddhist Dharma could not make evil men lay down their blades, the Scriptures could not save his kinsmen, and sacred chants could not rescue the people from their dire plight.
Amid raging wars, corpses lay scattered across the land, smoke filled the air, and devastation stretched as far as the eye could see.
The elderly and weak were slaughtered, people treated like ants, lives as worthless as grass.
He was not only the Buddha Prince but also the ruler of the Royal Court.
Without real power, he could not stop the massacres.
While studying Buddhist Dharma, he began learning how to manage state affairs, negotiate with noble families, and decipher human intentions.
Boluoliuzhi secretly trained guards for him, selecting both scions of noble families and slaves who had been traded like livestock.
Bi Suo was one of them. He voluntarily requested to become Boluoliuzhi's disciple, vowing to risk his life for him.
They diligently practiced martial arts and became his most loyal guards.
Boluoliuzhi worried deeply: "With just our group, we cannot shake the noble families. Luojia, as you grow older, they will not let you be."
"Even if you assume power, you won't be able to reclaim authority. You'll be sidelined, becoming a puppet they manipulate at will."
"You need an ally—one who can intimidate the noble families, shoulder all the killings for you, and remain eternally loyal. He must be ruthless, without kin or attachments, free of weaknesses and burdens."
"He must also possess exceptional martial skills, capable of weathering any storm and steadfastly following you."
Bi Suo and Yuanjue eagerly asked, "Like Master's senior, General Saisang'er? He is the Regent, lifelong loyal to the royal family, dedicating himself entirely to the king. He has lived a life of military service and is the Royal Court's most formidable warrior in a century!"
A trace of melancholy crossed Boluoliuzhi's aged face.
"Yes, just like General Saisang'er."
Boluoliuzhi told his disciples: "General Saisang'er practiced a secret, hereditary Cultivation method from the Royal Court's Buddhist tradition. This method, known as the Vajra method, is domineering and fierce. If mastered, one becomes a peerless expert. However, the practitioner must be pure-hearted and possess immense willpower and self-control. Otherwise, emotional fluctuations can easily lead to Qi deviation, causing Cultivation backlash and turning them into a cold-blooded, murderous demon. Thus, this method has always been passed down among Buddhist disciples."
The young men clamored to learn the method, each aspiring to become a heroic figure like General Saisang'er.
Boluoliuzhi shook his head and sighed deeply."From the moment one begins practicing this cultivation method, they must persistently take pills to suppress its effects. Each time the medicine dissipates, it severely damages the body. Initially, it only causes weakness in the limbs, but gradually the pain intensifies until every bone feels as if crushed by an elephant. Eventually, the legs swell, slowly losing the ability to walk, until finally, the practitioner becomes emaciated, their life force exhausted like a lamp burning out its oil."
"Practicing this method ensures death in one's prime. Do you still wish to learn it?"
The youths hesitated for a moment, then nodded resolutely.
For the Buddha Prince, they were willing to practice!
Boliuzhi began teaching the youths the cultivation method.
The method was truly unorthodox. The first few youths who learned it deviated their energy flow during practice months later, showing faint signs of losing control.
Fearing they might develop serious issues, Boliuzhi didn't dare let them continue and started teaching Bi Suo and Yuanjue instead.
Neither of them was suited for the Vajra cultivation method either, unable to withstand its demands. The other early learners gradually exhibited various symptoms of discomfort.
One day, a youth of slave origin, attempting to break through in the method, secretly took an excessive dose of medicine. He bled from all seven orifices and nearly died. Though he narrowly survived, he was left disabled.
Meanwhile, the youth most suited for the method had a restless temperament. During a sparring match, he almost accidentally killed his own brother. After regaining clarity, he showed no remorse, only thinking that once he mastered the method, no one could defeat him.
Boliuzhi was nearly driven to despair.
Tanmoroqie approached him: "Master, you once said I have exceptional innate talent. Let me try."
Boliuzhi was horrified: "No! You are the Buddha Prince, the ruler. How can you practice such a method? Learning it would ruin your life! Focus on studying the Buddhist Dharma instead. Don't trouble yourself with these matters."
Tanmoroqie looked at the young men practicing earnestly outside the cell, pressed his palms together, his expression serene.
"If I do not enter hell, who will?"
If only through ruthless means could one achieve a bodhisattva's compassionate heart, he was willing to bear all karmic retribution and personally eliminate evil.
Boliuzhi trembled, gazed at him for a long moment, sighed, and reluctantly let him attempt the method.
Three months later, Tanmoroqie showed no signs of being affected by the method. Even the agony following the medicine's dissipation, he endured with gritted teeth.
He was the most suitable Regent.
Boliuzhi let out a long sigh.
"Perhaps this is destiny..."
...
After reclaiming royal authority, the Zhang family faced punishment.
Chima demanded he exterminate the Zhang clan completely—men, women, children, even the elderly, weak, women, and children of distant branches, sparing none.
He refused.
The suffering inflicted upon him had been searingly profound, but he would not extend that vengeance to the innocent.
Chima cursed him in disappointment.
"Have you forgotten those who died before your eyes? You care nothing for the Tanmo family! You are unworthy of being king!"
...
Tanmoroqie never regretted this decision, so he seldom recalled these past events over the years.
He watched his younger self stop Chima from pursuing innocent civilians, then calmly turned and walked away, letting her weep and curse behind him.
The illusions before him gradually faded.
In the darkness, a faint, warm light filtered down.
A soft call echoed in his ear.
"Venerable One?"
Tanmoroqie opened his eyes.
A young woman's anxious face leaned close to his, her slender eyes reflecting his sweat-drenched visage. She held a handkerchief, gently wiping the sweat from his brow.He held her hand, gazing into her clear eyes.
"Where do you come from?"
Yaoying froze, blinked, her expression slightly dazed, and softly said, "...from the Wei Kingdom in the Central Plains."
Tanmoroqie watched her for a long moment before releasing her hand.
Ten thousand li—so far away, separated by vast deserts, towering mountains, and endless rivers.
Why had she, of all people, come to his side.
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