In the Moonlight

The sky gradually darkened.

The brilliant sunset glow fell upon the undulating and well-proportioned grotto pagodas of Wang Temple. In the deepening dusk, golden light shimmered, and the bronze bells on the pagoda eaves swayed gently in the wind, producing a series of tinkling sounds—solemn and dignified.

Bi Suo climbed the stone steps with swift footsteps.

The hidden guard Bā mǐ ěr, stationed in the corner, stopped him and said, "General, please halt."

Bi Suo took out his bronze token: "I need to see the King."

Bā mǐ ěr took the token inside and soon returned, leading him into the courtyard and having him wait under a tree.

Bi Suo looked up at the grotto emitting a hazy glow of lamplight, his heart burning with anxiety. He paced back and forth, his gaze sweeping over the bare tree and spotting a few familiar knots.

He stared blankly at the tree.

This tree had been transplanted by Tanmoroqie himself.

This grotto was where Tanmoroqie had once lived and where he had formally taken his vows.

Princess Wenzhao did not know... Luojia’s birthday celebration would last several days, but today was his actual birthday.

Bi Suo’s right hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Tanmoroqie did not care about birthdays; over the years, it had been his devotees who spontaneously celebrated for him. On this day in previous years, he would copy Buddhist Scriptures alone from morning till night, refusing to see outsiders.

This year, on this day.

On this profoundly significant day, he had brought Princess Wenzhao to this grotto, which held deep meaning for him.

This indicated that Princess Wenzhao was equally significant to him.

...

Inside the grotto.

Yaoying swallowed the pill and sat cross-legged.

Tanmoroqie sat opposite her, fingers turning his rosary, eyes slightly lowered.

Silence prevailed, with only a wisp of incense smoke curling upward.

Yaoying was unaccustomed to sitting upright on her knees and soon felt sore in the back and numb in the legs. Tanmoroqie, however, remained perfectly still, the folds of his Kasaya as calm as still water, resembling a statue of the Buddha. Only the rosary in his hand swayed slightly. It seemed he could sit like this all day without moving.

Her eyes wandered around the room. The furnishings were simple: a writing desk, a screen, a low couch, and a Buddhist shrine—nothing particularly interesting to look at. Her gaze returned to Tanmoroqie, and she rested her chin in her hand, quietly studying him.

His features were deep and sharply defined. As a revered monk admired by the masses, he usually appeared as gentle and cool as jade, detached from worldly affairs. Yet, upon closer inspection, his face carried a hint of sharpness and heroic spirit, which made him appear dignified and majestic when stern. However, he had a pair of gentle green eyes, like deep pools of water, with serene and elegant brows—his demeanor was divine and graceful.

Yaoying couldn’t help but think: He must look very handsome when he smiles.

Since she had met him, she had never seen him smile.

As she gazed intently, Tanmoroqie lifted his eyes to look at her, meeting her gaze directly.

The two looked at each other in silence. He said nothing, and Yaoying, seeing that he did not seem to be in deep meditation, smiled at him and lowered her head to open the bundle she had brought.

"I haven’t yet congratulated the Dharma Master on his birthday..."

She pulled out several volumes of Scriptures and handed them to Tanmoroqie.

Tanmoroqie said, "The Princess has already presented birthday gifts."

Intent on outshining the other princesses at the ceremony, she had prepared lavish gifts through her merchant caravan. When the ceremonial officer displayed her offerings, gasps arose from the front—exquisite golden Buddhas, treasures adorned with the eight auspicious symbols, gold, gems, and a dazzling array of items, along with exquisitely bound Scriptures decorated with beautiful illustrations.

Envoys from various countries had never seen such Scriptures and were curious, wanting to borrow them for a closer look. The temple abbot declined, and the Scriptures were now enshrined in Wang Temple.She never missed any opportunity to expand her trading caravan. While the silk fabrics brought from the Central Plains were precious, their quantity was limited. Mulberry and hemp knitting couldn’t be rushed, but papermaking was far more convenient, with lower costs and greater profits. Soon, she thought, her shop would be selling bound Buddhist Scriptures.

Hearing him mention the glittering gifts from the ceremony, Yaoying smiled faintly, holding the Scriptures as she said, "Those were for others to see. This is the birthday gift I personally prepared for you, Master."

Tanmoroqie glanced at her, took the Scriptures, and opened them. The paper, adorned with subtle lotus patterns, was densely covered in writing.

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

Yaoying knew he was fluent in various languages and skilled in calligraphy, so she felt a little embarrassed. "The Royal Court script is too different from Chinese characters. My writing is poor—please don’t laugh, Master."

Tanmoroqie closed the Scriptures.

Her Royal Court script was indeed unpolished, but he could recognize the handwriting. She had hand-copied the entire "Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva’s Original Vow Sutra."

Yaoying smiled and explained, "My mother believes in the Buddha, so I copied the 'Medicine Buddha Sutra' for her. You, Master, are a monastic who has transcended life and death, neither clinging to life nor fearing death. But I am a worldly person. I hope you live a long and healthy life, free from illness and swiftly recovered. After much thought, I decided to copy the 'Ksitigarbha Sutra' to pray for your blessings."

Tanmoroqie remained silent for a moment before asking, "Why did you choose to copy the 'Ksitigarbha Sutra,' Princess?"

Yaoying replied, "I noticed you often read this sutra in your daily practice."

The volumes of the "Ksitigarbha Sutra" on his desk were filled with annotations, their scrolls stuffed with bookmarks. In his debates on Dharma, he frequently quoted from this sutra, clearly deeply resonating with its teachings. That was why she had chosen to copy it.

Tanmoroqie looked at Yaoying and said, "You do not believe in the Buddha."

Yaoying widened her eyes. "But you do, Master."

Because it was his faith, she wanted to offer her prayers in the way he pursued.

A breeze swept into the room, causing the candle flames to flicker. Shifting shadows danced across Yaoying’s face, her bright eyes glistening like autumn waters.

The wind stirred, and the banners swayed.

Tanmoroqie lowered his gaze to the Scriptures. When she sought repentance before the Buddha, she could copy two volumes in a single night—her handwriting neat and elegant, yet clearly done without much care, even bearing smudges. In contrast, the "Ksitigarbha Sutra" she copied for him, though clumsily written, was carefully executed stroke by stroke.

He lost himself in thought for a moment, as if he could see her leaning over the desk, writing diligently and meticulously.

Yaoying knew he cared little for birthdays. Seeing his expressionless face after receiving the gift, she didn’t take it to heart and reminded him, "But you still need to consult renowned physicians and take the right medicine to recover fully. I’ve had some medicinal herbs gathered, though I’m not sure if they’ll be useful. I’ve already asked Yuanjue to store them. Since there are physicians from the Land of Brahma in the Royal Court, why not have them examine the herbs? If they prove effective, I’ll arrange for more."

Tanmoroqie put away the Scriptures and murmured in acknowledgment. Unseen by her, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

She probably meant to say, "Master, you still need medicine to treat your illness."

Seizing the chance to speak with him, Yaoying stretched her legs and rubbed her shoulders. Suddenly, a wave of fatigue washed over her. She turned aside, covering a yawn with her hand, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.Since she took the medicine, Tanmoroqie had been observing her. Seeing her consciousness grow hazy, he said softly, "This is your first time taking this medicine, Princess. Its effects are strong. If you feel drowsy, you may lie down."

Yaoying made a move to rise: "Then I shall return..."

Tanmoroqie shook his head and stood up: "It is your first time taking this medicine. You cannot be left alone."

After speaking, he rose and stepped out to give her privacy.

Yaoying let out a soft "oh" at his straight-backed figure, then glanced around. In the corner of the couch were clean quilts and blankets—it seemed he had prepared everything in advance.

The monk was a thoughtful and good physician.

Her eyelids grew increasingly heavy, and she fell asleep shortly after lying down.

...

Hearing Yaoying's breathing behind the screen become long and steady, Tanmoroqie returned to the inner chamber.

The candle flame flickered. He moved the candlestand closer to the low couch, sat on its edge, and carefully observed her complexion. Rolling up the quilt, he took a soft cloth, held her wrist through the cloth, and checked her pulse with two fingers for a while.

Yaoying grew increasingly warm, and sweat beaded at her temples.

Tanmoroqie frowned, fetched a towel and hot water, and wiped her brow.

In her dream, she sensed his gentle movements and reached out to grasp his sleeve.

"Dharma Master..."

She called out unconsciously, her hoarse voice sounding unusually intimate.

Like whispers within bed curtains.

Tanmoroqie paused for a moment, then pulled his Kasaya sleeve free and continued wiping.

"Dharma Master..."

Yaoying called to him again, clutching his sleeve once more, her fingers tightening.

Tanmoroqie tugged his sleeve away.

"Dharma Master, it hurts..."

She suddenly said.

Her murmuring voice was low, with a soft hum from her nose—not a complaint nor a lament, but the sound of someone letting down all defenses before a trusted person.

Tanmoroqie stilled, his thick eyelashes lowering to conceal all thoughts.

"Where does it hurt?"

After a moment, he asked softly.

Yaoying curled into a ball, fine sweat seeping from her skin: "Everywhere hurts..."

Tanmoroqie remained motionless. A moment later, he leaned in, his slender fingers slowly approaching her cheek, stopping steadily just before they could touch her.

His gaze fixed on her face for a long while, then he looked down, removed the bodhi seed rosary from his wrist, lifted her wrist through the cloth, and draped the rosary over it.

Bodhi beads serve as Dharma instruments—warding off evil, enhancing wisdom, dispelling calamities, increasing merit, and alleviating illness and pain...

This rosary had accompanied him for many years.

As he placed the rosary on her, he recited Scriptures.

May your pain lessen, may you be free from illness and disaster, may all your wishes be fulfilled, and may calamities turn to blessings.

Hearing the familiar, clear, and melodious chant of Scriptures, Yaoying gradually calmed, though her fingers still clung to Tanmoroqie's Kasaya sleeve.

He did not pull his sleeve away.

Footsteps sounded beyond the screen as Bā mǐ ěr announced that Bi Suo had arrived.

"Let him wait."

Tanmoroqie said, watching Yaoying.

A quarter of an hour later, the sedative effects of the mandrake took hold. Yaoying's slightly furrowed brows relaxed somewhat, she ceased her soft murmurs, and her grip on his sleeve loosened.

Tanmoroqie waited a while longer, tucked her exposed hand back under the quilt, returned to his desk, recorded her reactions in Brahmi, and then rose to leave.

...

Night had fallen.

Bi Suo waited in the courtyard, his expression grave as Tanmoroqie emerged.

"Your Majesty, is Princess Wenzhao different from others in your eyes?"

If Li Yaoying were just an ordinary woman, if she relied on her beauty to bewitch others like Princess Manda did... then Bi Suo would never be as alarmed as he was now.She is no ordinary woman; possessing unparalleled beauty akin to a goddess, she always shares a deep understanding with Luojia.

Bi Suo, being a man who has spent considerable time with Li Yaoying, grows increasingly worried that Luojia might develop feelings for her.

He waited anxiously for Luojia's response, his eyes filled with unease.

The night breeze brushed by as Tanmoroqie stood beneath the corridor, moonlight draping his shoulders, his kasaya fluttering vigorously in the wind.

"It's different."

He spoke lightly.

Bi Suo shuddered all over. Though he had anticipated this outcome, witnessing Tanmoroqie admit it so calmly left him in disbelief.

"Your Majesty, Princess Wenzhao cannot remain in the Royal Court any longer," he declared firmly. "The princess is a Han woman, and you are the noble Buddha Prince!"

If this continued, it would bring no good to either Tanmoroqie or Li Yaoying. Luojia’s cultivation would be disrupted by his emotions, while Li Yaoying would be labeled as a temptress luring the Buddha Prince into corruption. She would face scorn, hatred, and contempt from all, and fervent believers, capable of anything, would spare no effort to destroy her.

Tanmoroqie gazed into the night, his expression serene, and said, "The seven emotions and six desires are all natural. Human nature encompasses desires between men and women, as well as for food and drink—there is no need to avoid them. Practitioners of cultivation are meant to sever all desires and temper their will."

The seven emotions and six desires are inherent to human nature. As a mortal, it is ordinary for him to be moved by affection; there is no need to shun it.

As a cultivator, falling in love is merely a trial on his path of practice.

If the heart remains unmoved, the banner does not stir.

He was originally like an ancient well, where a single water lily grew quietly—cold, lonely, and detached. She traversed thousands of mountains and rivers to arrive, like a spring breeze brushing past, rippling the still water. The water lily gently swayed along with the ripples.

When the wind ceased, the water stilled.

All things in the world are transient and ever-changing. Love is like dew, and beauty is but an illusion.

She will return to the distant Han lands, reunite with her family, and live a life of joy.

He will continue his solitary cultivation, even if his body is shattered to pieces, without ever looking back.

Bi Suo smiled bitterly.

He believed in Tanmoroqie’s steadfast nature and his ability to handle his relationship with Li Yaoying. Yet, matters in this world are never so simple.

Luojia is the ruler of the Royal Court, the Buddha Prince revered by the people, and he is also the Regent, Su Dan Gu...

Collecting himself, Bi Suo said, "Your Majesty, the conflict between Princess Wenzhao and the princesses of other nations has already spread. The common people are privately cursing her with the vilest words, saying she obstructs Your Majesty’s cultivation, harbors delusions of grandeur, and calling her shameless and base. They claim she will face retribution and fall eternally into the Asura hell... She said she was punished by gods and Buddhas in her dreams, and everyone believes it wholeheartedly, convinced that unless she renounces the world like the Girl of Matanga, she will surely be plagued by evil consequences."

"Your Majesty, Princess Wenzhao will eventually return to the Han lands. For her own good, you must no longer show her such favor."

"I am willing to care for Princess Wenzhao on Your Majesty’s behalf. I swear I will spare no effort to protect the princess, even at the cost of my life."

Tanmoroqie turned and looked at Bi Suo, his green eyes calm.

Bi Suo sighed inwardly and knelt on one knee. "Your Majesty, I am a friend of Princess Wenzhao. I swear I dare not and will not harbor any ill intentions toward the princess... I am merely concerned about Princess Wenzhao’s situation."

He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and steeled his heart.

"Your Majesty, your affection for Princess Wenzhao may very well bring disaster upon her—a disaster that could cost her life.""They will throw Princess Wenzhao into a real fire altar like they did with that heretical enchantress, burning her alive to cleanse her sins."

An unusual silence fell over the courtyard.

The night breeze stirred Tanmoroqie's kasaya as he said, "Bi Suo, whether I have developed feelings or not has nothing to do with Princess Wenzhao."

His tone carried authority, with an implicit warning.

Regardless of whether he had feelings or not, all consequences would be borne by him alone—it had nothing to do with Li Yaoying.

Bi Suo heard the determination in his words and felt a sharp pang of sorrow, a bitter expression flashing across his face.

"I will remember, Your Highness."

He understood Tanmoroqie well—knew that Luojia would not evade responsibility, that no matter the outcome, Luojia would shoulder all the suffering alone.

That was precisely why he was so deeply worried.

...

Bi Suo rose and left the stone chamber.

The fear that had haunted him for years surfaced once again.

He recalled his master's final words: "Bi Suo, do not soften, do not hesitate... if that day truly comes, you must kill him with your own hands."

Luojia had said the same to him.

"Bi Suo, do not hesitate. My illness is severe—I am already a dying man."

Bi Suo wiped the corner of his eye.

...

Years ago, when Tanmoroqie practiced his cultivation method,

his will was so resolute that he not only endured immense physical pain but also withstood mental trials. Apart from appearing particularly detached while channeling his energy, he showed no other abnormalities.

Before his master, Pololiuzhi, passed away, he summoned Bi Suo and handed him a dagger.

"Bi Suo, you are Luojia's fellow disciple. In the future, if Luojia ever goes mad and commits mass slaughter, you must kill him with your own hands."

Bi Suo was horrified: "Master, Luojia is the Buddha Prince. He took up this cultivation method because he could not bear to watch his guards die one by one. How could he possibly commit such slaughter?"

Pololiuzhi trembled as he spoke: "Nothing in this world is absolute... Have you heard the story of General Saisang'er?"

Bi Suo nodded. Of course he knew—every young man in the Royal Court aspired to become a great hero like General Saisang'er.

Pololiuzhi looked at him with compassionate eyes.

"Bi Suo, General Saisang'er was my senior brother... He did not die in some aristocratic conspiracy... He died by his master's blade."

Bi Suo's eyes widened in shock.

Pololiuzhi stroked the dagger in his hand.

"My senior brother trained at Wang Temple since childhood, practicing the cultivation method. Among all the disciples, he had the best comprehension and the finest temperament—all his fellow disciples admired him."

"At fourteen, he began following his father and brothers into battle for the Royal Court, taking his first enemy head in his initial combat. By eighteen, he led three thousand cavalry beyond the Congling Mountains, defeated the Turkic Khaganate, annihilating eight thousand enemies and capturing over twenty thousand... His martial skills were exceptional, his character resolute—nothing could break him..."

"Throughout his life, my senior brother remained loyal and upright, guarding the Royal Court's borders, securing complete control over the eastern and western trade routes. He conquered enemies and subdued distant lands, brave and skilled in warfare. The Royal Court's banners flew across snowy plateaus and vast deserts, making various states tremble at the mere mention of his name. Because of him, neither the eastern nor western powerful empires dared invade the Royal Court..."

"He treated his soldiers like his own children, deeply loved by his subordinates. Honest and courageous, indifferent to fame and wealth, he never grew arrogant over his military achievements. In daily life, he pursued simplicity—he returned to the frontline just days after his wedding..."

"My senior brother often said: 'As a son of the Royal Court, as a martial practitioner, it is our duty to serve the kingdom and protect the common people.'"

At this point, Pololiuzhi's clouded eyes filled with tears."The master said that senior brother was the most suitable candidate to practice the cultivation method. His character was so noble—no matter how much the royal family suspected him or how the noble families ostracized him, he always put the Royal Court and the people first. He was a born hero and would never suffer from Qi deviation."

"Until that year... when senior brother went off to war, his mother unintentionally offended the Empress Dowager and the royal relatives. The Empress Dowager actually poisoned her to death. Fearing the truth would be exposed, encouraged by treacherous officials, she decided to go all the way and bribed bandits to kill senior brother's family, framing the noble families. Senior brother's family fled the city to deliver the message, but they were all killed... By the time the King found out, the Empress Dowager had already committed an irreparable wrong, and the noble families watched coldly... In the end, senior brother's entire family perished..."

Boluoliuzhi gave a bitter smile.

"Senior brother had won a great victory and was returning triumphantly with his troops. How could we tell him..."

"He had devoted himself to the Royal Court and was returning joyfully, yet I had to tell him, 'Senior brother, your entire family is dead—your father, your mother, your pregnant wife and your two children, your siblings... all dead! Killed by treacherous officials and royal relatives...'"

Boluoliuzhi stared at his trembling hands.

"Later, senior brother returned. The King, fearing senior brother would go mad and even more afraid that the soldiers who worshipped him would rebel, could only cover up the evidence and shield his mother... Senior brother knew nothing; he thought his family had died in an accident... The noble families deliberately leaked the news to him..."

Saisang'er went mad.

He charged into the palace with his blade, slaughtering everyone in his path. The palace guards were his subordinates—they were no match for him and couldn't bring themselves to strike him down, but they couldn't stand by and watch him kill indiscriminately.

In the end, Saisang'er's master led the Wang Temple Monk Soldiers to besiege him.

Boluoliuzhi was still very young at the time and secretly slipped into the crowd.

He would never forget that rainy night.

The great hero most admired by the young men of the Royal Court fought like a trapped beast, battling his fellow disciples amidst flying blood and flesh.

Saisang'er ultimately died by his master's blade.

"The eagle soaring through the skies, the divine wolf galloping across the desert—he didn't die on the battlefield, nor by an enemy's blade. He died at the hands of his own people! The Royal Court guards, his master, his junior brothers... The central army dispatched hundreds of men, set traps, and even captured one of his distant relatives, all to lure him in and besiege him... That night, the Wang Temple ran red with blood. I will never forget it..."

"Saisang'er died by our hands..."

All the Wang Temple monks who participated in the siege of Saisang'er could never forget that night. Disheartened, they left one after another, becoming ascetics.

From then on, the royal family declined, the nation's power waned, and the Tanmo family's monarchs for generations became puppets of the noble families.

Until Tanmoroqie emerged.

Boluoliuzhi gripped Bi Suo's shoulders tightly.

"Senior brother wasn't killed by the master... He was seeking death..."

Before Saisang'er died, he scanned the circle, looked at his fellow disciples, and murmured, "I'm sorry."

His junior brothers knelt before his corpse, tears streaming down their faces.

Saisang'er had regained his clarity in his final moments. He realized he had killed too many innocent people in his frenzy, so he gave up resistance and faced death calmly.

His junior brothers wished he hadn't regained his senses; they wished he had truly been mad.

For a hero to lose everything, to have his lifelong beliefs shattered, and then to face death with full awareness—how excruciating that must have been.

Boluoliuzhi looked at Bi Suo, his face contorted."All these years... only Luojia resembles him the most, and Luojia happens to be the most suitable person to practice this cultivation method... If it is fate's will... you must watch over him carefully, remain loyal to him, and never let him fall into Saisang'er's plight..."

"If that day truly comes... kill him, grant him release..."

...

A cool breeze swept by, jolting Bi Suo out of his memories. Standing before the steps, he shuddered.

No matter which path Luojia chooses, he would never raise a blade against Luojia.

He knew Luojia would never easily abandon his convictions.

Thus, he did not fear Luojia breaking his vows.

What he feared was Luojia falling in love.

Breaking precepts would not shake Luojia's resolve, but falling in love was different. Without emotional attachment, nothing in this world could harm him; once he developed feelings, he would have a weakness. Yet his identity and cultivation method destined him to have no vulnerabilities or attachments.

Boluoliuzhi once said that among rulers, Luojia was the only one bearing the title of Buddha Prince. Since childhood, he had practiced restraint and endurance—the more he suppressed his emotions, the more intense and overwhelming their eventual eruption would be.

He had never experienced love, believing it to be merely a fleeting palpitation. Little did he know that once emotions stirred, how could desires not follow?

Where there is desire, there arises all manner of unattainable longings, resentful encounters, and heart-wrenching separations... any of which could cause Luojia to lose his reason.

Luojia wanted to persuade Princess Wenzhao to renounce the world... this in itself was already an act of greed—he wished for her to stay.

But Princess Wenzhao would not remain.

Bi Suo did not wish to see Luojia distressed and sorrowful over this.

How cruel it is to allow him to obtain something briefly, knowing it would ultimately be lost.

Bi Suo lowered his head, gazing at the sword at his waist, let out a long sigh, steadied his thoughts, and stepped into the thick darkness of the night.