Yaoying was drunk, her mind hazy and muddled.
The Gaochang delegation had brought wine from Wulin and Bafeng Valley. During the banquet where Maru and the Wei dynasty exchanged diplomatic documents, Princess Manda had persuaded her to drink a few cups.
Li Zhongqian was strict with her, so she had only taken a few sips. She hadn’t felt much on the way back, but after entering the inner chamber, her head grew increasingly heavy for some reason—perhaps because she hadn’t touched alcohol in years.
In the dim candlelight, Tanmoroqie’s serene and dignified figure remained perfectly still.
Kneeling before him, she shook her head and caught a faint, sweet fragrance mixed with the scent of medicine. Unconsciously, she tugged at his sleeve and leaned closer.
Tanmoroqie always carried a subtle aroma around him. She couldn’t quite place it, but since the Royal Court often offered flowers and incense to the Buddha, and he spent long hours in the halls, over time, his robes had absorbed the solemn, ethereal fragrance of the temple.
Whenever she caught that scent, Yaoying felt a deep sense of peace, as if waking from a nightmare to realize it was only a dream, letting out a long sigh of relief as all the pain and fear melted away.
"Dharma Master..."
She spoke softly, lifting her gaze to him. Her eyes curved slightly, long lashes trembling, her gaze misty and dreamy, like a flower slowly unfurling under the moonlight—exquisite and tender, brimming with sweet nectar. As her eyes shifted, that hint of sweetness seemed to overflow.
The room filled with her presence, a delicate, intoxicating aura that stirred the heart.
Tanmoroqie immediately averted his gaze, yet her lingering fragrance still twined around his senses.
Yaoying, unsteady, leaned against him, soft and supple as if boneless, her form delicate and graceful.
The fragrance seemed to grow stronger.
Tanmoroqie lowered his eyes, focusing on the Buddhist scripture he had been reading earlier, and asked quietly, "Has the Princess been drinking?"
Yaoying’s reaction was slower than usual. After a moment, she nodded, widening her eyes as if caught misbehaving, and whispered, "Have I offended you, Dharma Master?"
He couldn’t drink, and she had entered his room after drinking—did that mean she had broken a precept too?
Her glistening eyes gazed at him pleadingly—trusting, intimate, tinged with self-reproach—as she released his sleeve.
"Dharma Master, I was wrong. I’ll leave first..."
Dizzy and weak all over, too lethargic to stand, she simply turned and began crawling out on hands and knees. With a thud, her head bumped against the low table she usually used, and she gasped in pain, her nose stinging.
Clutching her forehead, she felt even dizzier.
Suddenly, an arm steadied her. The sleeve of his Kasaya brushed past as long, strong fingers gripped her arm, pulling her upright with a firm tug.
After a moment of spinning disorientation, Yaoying found herself kneeling before Tanmoroqie once more. One of his hands held her arm to keep her steady, while the other brushed aside the stray hairs at her forehead to examine the bruised spot.
Yaoying stared at him blankly, her cheeks flushed.
The slanting candlelight fell upon her face, illuminating a glimpse of her pale, snow-like neck where her collar had loosened.
Tanmoroqie frowned slightly. "Does it hurt?"
Yaoying shook her head and murmured, "It hurt a little just now, but it’s better now. It doesn’t hurt anymore."
Her reply was utterly docile.
A faint tremor passed through Tanmoroqie’s heart.
So this was how she behaved when drunk—so obedient. Even in such a state, she still remembered him and worried about disturbing him.
A fragrant piece of jade, tender as a flower, soft as jade.If she goes out like this, who will take care of her? Does she act like this in front of everyone when she’s drunk?
Tanmoroqie furrowed his brows, released Yaoying, and said, "It’s fine. Don’t go out."
Yaoying mumbled, "Monk, I’ve been drinking."
As she spoke, she stood up unsteadily, intending to leave.
Tanmoroqie watched her, his gaze deepening. "I said it’s fine."
He couldn’t join her in worldly pleasures, yet he selfishly wanted to keep the snow lotus she had given him all to himself.
She didn’t need to follow any precepts for him—she could drink if she wished, get drunk if she pleased… She had no reason to hold back, yet she hesitated because of him.
Yaoying turned her head, blinked, and tilted it to look at him, her expression dazed.
Tanmoroqie grabbed her arm and pulled her back, this time with more force than before.
Still disoriented, Yaoying felt dizzy from the pull and stumbled into his embrace. The scent of him washed over her instantly.
She could hear his breathing, feel the firmness of his arms and legs beneath his Kasaya. His heartbeat remained slow and steady, deep as an abyss.
The body beneath the Kasaya stiffened and tensed.
Yaoying came to her senses and looked up, realizing she was sitting squarely on Tanmoroqie’s firm lap, facing him. Her arms rested on his shoulders, her entire body pressed against his chest. His calm, jade-green eyes reflected her slightly flushed face.
They were so close, their gazes locked.
Tanmoroqie lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable, like a statue of the Buddha, unmoving.
His breath was cool, while hers was warm and fragrant. Slowly, their breaths intertwined, merging into one, inseparable.
A flash of clarity struck Yaoying’s mind. She suddenly remembered the bronze Buddha statue she had tried to sell multiple times without success, and the illustrated books Princess Manda had forced upon her.
In them, fierce Vajras and enchanting female deities embraced, intertwined in the nude, in positions much like this one… The illustrations were far more detailed, accompanied by Scriptures, depicting vajras and lotuses… the bliss of nirvana, the ecstasy of union…
The Land of Brahma had complex religious sects, and their temples worshipped more than one deity. She wasn’t sure which sect Princess Manda had been referring to…
Tanmoroqie’s scent was intoxicating.
As the alcohol’s effects intensified, Yaoying felt herself growing even more intoxicated. She let out a soft laugh and tightened her arms around him.
"You’re not angry?"
When she had entered the room earlier, he had been sitting sternly by the candlelight, looking as if a storm were brewing, ready to scold her.
Tanmoroqie kept his eyes lowered and shook his head.
A smile tugged at Yaoying’s lips. "Then you won’t be angry with me for doing this either, will you?"
There was something she had wanted to do for a long time.
Tanmoroqie jolted, his entire body rigid.
A pair of soft hands pressed against his head, gently stroking, their smooth fingertips rubbing tenderly back and forth over his short stubble.
He was stunned.
Yaoying’s face lit up with a triumphant smile, and she said in a playful, mischievous tone, "I’ve wanted to touch it for so long…"
Tanmoroqie snapped back to reality and tightened his grip on his Buddhist Beads.
Where her fingers gently rubbed felt as if an electric current were coursing through him. An unfamiliar, overwhelming surge of emotion, one he had never experienced before, washed over him like fire, heating his entire body.
The fragrant, soft warmth in his arms melted like spring water.
The next moment, Tanmoroqie’s mind went completely blank.A pair of hands pressed against his neck, forcing him to lower his head. The woman in his arms sat up straight, her dark eyes glistening with moisture. Then, her warm, supple lips—softer and more delicate than thorn honey—brushed against his head.
It lasted only a moment, fleeting as a spark, so brief it might have been an illusion.
Yet the gentle sensation lingered in his mind, repeating over and over.
Tanmoroqie remained perfectly still, his muscles taut beneath the kasaya. A surge of energy, usually only present during cultivation practice, coursed through his entire body.
Her delicate fragrance grew increasingly potent, seeping into his senses strand by strand.
He held his breath, closed his eyes for a long moment, silently reciting scriptures. When he reopened them, turbulence churned in his gaze. He lifted a hand to grasp Yaoying’s wrist, the other cradling the nape of her neck, and laid her down on the plush carpet.
Yaoying, her consciousness hazy, let out a soft gasp as she watched him lean over her.
Tanmoroqie’s back was to the lamplight, his expression obscured in shadow, but his jade-green eyes roiled with dark intensity.
She blinked dazedly, offering no resistance.
His cool breath brushed her face as he braced one hand beside her cheek, his gaze profound and icy.
"Where did the princess learn of dual cultivation?"
Yaoying stared blankly for a moment, her eyes widening.
Tanmoroqie shut his eyes briefly, regaining his composure, and asked, "Does the princess intend to use this method to heal my injuries?"
His voice was hoarse.
Yaoying’s gaze remained unfocused as she shook her head, her expression tinged with grievance.
Tanmoroqie fell silent, then lifted Yaoying into his arms and stood, his long sleeves sweeping lightly as he extinguished the room’s lamps and incense with a subtle gust of wind.
Yaoying had no strength left, curling limply against his chest. His body rigid, he carried her to an empty inner chamber and laid her on the couch, pulling a brocade quilt over her. Turning his back to her, he steadied himself before reaching out two fingers to check her pulse.
There was nothing unusual about her condition.
Frowning, Tanmoroqie left the inner chamber and summoned Yuanjue. "Remove all the incense, candles, and medicinal herbs from the room. Also, take away any furnishings or decorations added in the past two days."
Yuanjue, bewildered, complied without question.
Tanmoroqie returned to the room, wrung out a cloth in cold water, and gently wiped Yaoying’s face.
Princess Manda was skilled in perfumes and medicines—she must have added something to Yaoying’s wine that reacted with the incense and herbs in his chamber, triggering these unusual effects after she returned to her room.
Yaoying, still muddled, recalled the intensity of his gaze earlier. "Is the master angry?"
In her drunken state, she seemed particularly childlike, her lips pouting with a hint of grievance.
This was how she ought to be—laughing, scolding, unrestrained.
Tanmoroqie sat by the couch, poured a bowl of water, and helped her drink.
"No," he said softly.
Waves of heat washed over Yaoying, and she instinctively pushed the quilt aside. Tanmoroqie held her still, letting her lean against him as he patiently wiped her face with the cool cloth.
His body was slightly cool, and she felt somewhat relieved pressed against him.
"Was it Princess Manda who taught you about dual cultivation?" he suddenly asked.
Yaoying, feeling guilty, retorted, "How did the master know it was her?"
Tanmoroqie glanced toward the side of the couch.
Following his gaze, Yaoying saw a bronze statue and several illustrated booklets lying on the carpet beside the couch.
She blinked, then smiled faintly. Out of curiosity the previous night, she had studied the contents of those booklets before hiding them, intending to have her guards sell them later… She hadn’t expected Tanmoroqie to find them."These things are baseless..." Tanmoroqie held her, speaking gently, "This method is merely some sects' way of self-salvation—it has no healing effects, nor can it strengthen the body."
Yaoying smiled, tugging at his sleeve. "I know..."
Tanmoroqie looked at her. "Then why did the Princess go ask Mengda Ti Po?"
Yaoying lifted her flushed face to gaze at him. "I know it's useless... but confirming with Mengda Ti Po puts my mind at ease. What if there truly is some secret method in the Land of Brahma? The cultivation method you practice originally came from the Land of Brahma after all..."
The handkerchief in Tanmoroqie's hand brushed against her cheek, his fingers grazing her soft lips.
She trembled slightly.
He withdrew his hand without showing any emotion.
If Mengda Ti Po said this method worked, she would undoubtedly be willing to sacrifice herself for him. She had come to the Royal Court precisely to cure his illness, to ensure he had no regrets.
Yaoying squirmed in his embrace. "Luojia..."
Calling his name in her dazed state, her voice coquettish like a spoiled child.
Tanmoroqie's fingers trembled faintly.
"Is that passage of scriptures from the illustrated book truly useless?"
Yaoying asked hopefully. While studying the book last night, she noticed those scriptures seemed like internal cultivation techniques. As a martial practitioner, he should be able to discern their essence.
Tanmoroqie stated resolutely, "Useless."
Yaoying frowned, letting out a disappointed sigh. "If only it were useful..."
Tanmoroqie's brow tightened. He set aside the handkerchief, grasped Yaoying's shoulders with both hands, and met her gaze.
"If it were useful, would the Princess offer herself as medicine?"
Yaoying nodded. "As long as it can help you..."
Her tone matter-of-fact.
Tanmoroqie's expression darkened.
"What if after I recover, I no longer need the Princess?"
Yaoying replied calmly, "Then I will leave and not disturb you anymore."
Waves stirred in Tanmoroqie's eyes.
She answered so naturally—she must have contemplated this many times in her heart.
Yaoying chuckled softly, raising her hand to pinch his cheek. "It's alright, I don't mind these things..."
Tanmoroqie asked in a low voice, "Why don't you mind?"
Yaoying thought for a moment, then beamed brightly. "Because it's Luojia!"
Tanmoroqie fell silent for a long while, his jade-green eyes fixed on her.
"The scriptures say, rather than suppressing desires, it's better to obtain and fulfill them. The moment they are attained, desires melt away like snow at sunrise, and the attachment to them naturally vanishes..."
Yaoying shook her head, speaking intermittently. "Luojia is an eminent monk... temporarily troubled by emotions, but he will understand eventually... He is the Buddha Prince and cannot renounce his vows... I know all this... If he can let go, I'll face the world's condemnation with him. If he cannot, I'll leave. Having accompanied him part of the way, I have no regrets... In the future, I will meet others..."
Tanmoroqie's pupils contracted, his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly.
"I mind."
He said softly.
Yaoying froze.
Tanmoroqie released her, helped her lie down, brushed aside the disheveled hair on her forehead, and continued wiping her face.
She didn't mind, and others didn't either. Bi Suo and the others said as long as he didn't publicly disclose his broken precepts, they could continue like this.
He minded.
"Moreover, this method is not suitable for me."
Yaoying stared at him in a daze.
Tanmoroqie lowered his head, enunciating each word clearly. "Princess, obtaining something does not dissolve attachment."If he chose to follow his desires, he would not attain the great enlightenment spoken of in the Scriptures, but would only become more obsessed, never letting go in this lifetime.
Therefore, he must not touch her.
In his current state, he could offer her no promises.
He tucked the brocade quilt around Yaoying: "Do not dwell on these matters anymore... whether it is the method of Dual Cultivation or the matter of alleviating my inner turmoil..."
As long as she remained well, that was the best medicine for him.
Yaoying murmured an unconscious response.
Tanmoroqie watched over her, observing as she fell into deep sleep. He checked her pulse again, his gaze lingering on her face.
Her brows were slightly furrowed, her cheeks flushed with a delicate glow, her lips rosy and full.
When those lips had pressed against his forehead, they felt softer and smoother than the finest silk.
That unfamiliar surge of impulse welled up within him once more.
Tanmoroqie tightened his grip on the Buddhist Beads, turned and left. After summoning his guards to give instructions, he went to the meditation room to sit in contemplation and regulate his breathing.
...
The night was cold. No lamps were lit in the room. Wind seeped through the cracks, causing the curtains to sway gently as shadows drifted.
Tanmoroqie sat cross-legged before the Buddha statue, gradually breaking into a sweat, his forehead beaded with dense droplets.
A breeze lifted the curtains, carrying with it a faint, lingering fragrance.
Footsteps approached, the intricate hem of a skirt brushing against the floor with a soft rustle. A graceful figure stopped before him, leaning forward slightly, her curves delicate, her soft, snow-white arms resting on his shoulders.
"Dharma Master..."
She called to him softly, her tone tender and delicate.
Tanmoroqie kept his eyes closed.
Feeling somewhat aggrieved, she sat on his lap, her supple body pressing against his Kasaya as she shifted.
Tanmoroqie opened his eyes, the corners slightly reddened.
The woman in his embrace was drowsy with intoxication, radiant as a peach blossom, her eyes glistening with moisture. After fidgeting for a while, she couldn't settle comfortably.
He closed his eyes briefly, then embraced her, their four arms entwined, bodies intertwined.
In the blissful paradise, within the Seven Treasures Pond, a lotus bloomed exquisitely graceful, swaying gently in the breeze.
He stepped into the pond, reaching out to touch the white lotus.
Layer upon layer of petals unfurled in the gentle wind, revealing the tender stamen, radiating a brilliant light.
The wind chimed melodiously, dew descended, and the lotus trembled softly in the wind and rain, its petals drifting down one by one, as if overwhelmed.
As light and shadow merged, the lambent skin of the one in his arms glistened with crystalline sweat, her hair damp and clinging to her face.
Tanmoroqie trembled as he held her tightly.
...
The wind rustled the Felt Curtain.
In the meditation room, Tanmoroqie slowly opened his eyes, removed the Buddhist Beads from his wrist, pressed his palms together, and recited penance.
All of it was his wicked thoughts—none of it concerned the her in his dreams.
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