In the Moonlight

Dawn broke.

The battle had ended. The magnificent Holy City lay in ruins, with crumbling walls and debris everywhere, the gilded palace gates scorched black by fire.

Yet everyone had survived.

Outside the city, splashes of muddy snow flew as victory reports were delivered back to the Holy City. The long streets were packed with survivors, their cheers of victory and hymns praising the Buddha Prince swirling through the brilliant morning light, soaring to the clouds.

As the mournful horns sounded, the crowd surged, rushing excitedly toward the city gates to await the Buddha Prince's return.

The main road was a sea of people, shoulder to shoulder, with barely room to stand.

The ground trembled faintly as the rhythmic beat of hooves approached. Leading the procession were hundreds of soldiers in black robes and silver armor astride armored warhorses, followed by five-army troops carrying curved bows and long swords at their waists, their formation stern and imposing.

At the rear marched tribal soldiers clad in animal-skin coats. Hailing from various tribes and lacking uniforms, they wore their hair loose and were splattered with blood—wild and unbridled, their ranks chaotic, like countless demons clawing their way up from hell.

No one mocked their savagery or roughness.

The citizens gazed at them with gratitude, left fists pressed to their chests, expressing sincere thanks.

The procession entered the city, winding through rubble-strewn streets before fanning out along both sides of the road.

War drums thundered, echoing like muffled roars in every heart.

At the center of the formation, a single rider advanced slowly on horseback. Clad in a bloodstained monk's robe and holding a pitch-black long blade, his deep blue eyes—like a rain-washed sky—were icy and detached, devoid of joy or sorrow. His handsome face exuded noble dignity, as if standing high in a Buddha hall overlooking all living beings—solemn, sacred, aloof, and untouchable.

In ruthless combat, he was like a blade forged of ice and snow, cutting down all demons and monsters, a wrathful Vajra subduing evil hordes.

When he smiled slightly, it was like a pristine snow lotus blooming amid a forest of swords—a bodhisattva lowering her gaze in compassion and mercy, yet remaining eternally beyond reach.

This was their Buddha Prince—divine, noble—who had secured peace for them in these chaotic times, holding back the rampaging Northern Rong armies beyond the Royal Court, allowing them to live and work in peace, singing as they tilled the soil.

Bathed in the spreading dawn light, he rode through a shower of golden radiance, his monk's robes fluttering like a deity.

The drums fell silent, the wind stilled. Everyone held their breath, gazing up at Tanmoroqie.

After a moment, a tearful cry shattered the silence as someone knelt and kowtowed in gratitude. This triggered a wave of realization; others followed suit, prostrating themselves. Countless citizens surged forward, chanting Tanmoroqie's Buddhist name and weeping openly.

Tanmoroqie seemed not to hear, his expression indifferent and silent as he proceeded toward Wang Temple.

Devotees knelt behind him, pressing their palms together in devout worship.

Behind the military formation, Li Zhongqian watched the ecstatic citizens on all sides, his brow furrowed. Glancing at the soldiers who gazed at Tanmoroqie with the same fervor, his expression darkened further. He turned to look at Yaoying.

Clad in military attire with a felt hat hiding her face, she rode beside him. Meeting his gaze, she smiled.

Li Zhongqian said grimly, "Look at these devotees treating the Buddha Prince like a god—even the soldiers are the same. Of all people to fall for, why did it have to be a monk?"Yaoying smiled lightly: "Elder brother, didn't you say you wanted me to bring Su Dan Gu back to Gaochang? You even told him to take good care of me..."

Li Zhongqian's eyebrows furrowed in anger. These past few days, whenever he recalled sending the injured Yaoying to Tanmoroqie, he would seethe with frustration.

"How was I supposed to know back then that Su Dan Gu was Tanmoroqie!"

Yaoying blinked at him, her long lashes fluttering, dark pupils shimmering with cheerful laughter as if sunlight had been kneaded into them, sparkling and dancing.

Li Zhongqian was momentarily stunned.

He knew Bright Moon Slave had always carried worries - she needed to guard against Li De, to be wary of Li Xuanzhen. She considered everything for his sake. Every time she saw him off to battle, fearing he might not return, she would repeat her admonitions tirelessly.

She had been sensible since childhood. He never demanded she marry into a noble family, only wishing her peace and happiness without sorrow, able to laugh freely without worrying about being harmed by Li De and Li Xuanzhen.

The current Bright Moon Slave was unconstrained and free. When Haidu Aling led a hundred-thousand strong allied army to besiege the Holy City, she immediately thought to use this opportunity to attack his suzerain state, trapping him in the Royal Court, wiping out his remaining forces in one stroke to eliminate the threat completely, while simultaneously establishing the Western Army's prestige and clearing their obstacles - rather than rashly bringing the Western Army here for rescue.

Bright Moon Slave had long grown up. In the past, he protected his young sister; later, it had always been his sister protecting him, her brother.

Li Zhongqian couldn't quite describe the feeling in his heart - relief, pride, and a trace of melancholy.

His anger gradually dissipated.

He snorted coldly: "With your current status, you can choose any gentleman you want. If you truly fancy him, you can visit him at the Royal Court when you have time, but don't think about anything else! My brother-in-law cannot be a monk!"

Yaoying remained silent.

Yuanjue rode forward to meet them, leading the two to rest at the guest residence first.

"Where is the Dharma Master? He should rest too," Yaoying said.

Yuanjue replied: "The monks from the temple have set up a ritual platform in the square before Wang Temple's main hall to make offerings to Buddha. This afternoon, the King will preside over the dharma assembly, leading all monks in praying for the fallen soldiers and liberating the souls of the deceased. All citizens of the city will go to offer prayers."

Yaoying nodded. She remembered it had been like this before - after major battles, Tanmoroqie would preside over dharma assemblies, chanting sutras and offering prayers.

She and Li Zhongqian went to the guest residence, gathering their personnel, taking headcounts, collecting intelligence from all sides, sending out letters, directing Damo back in Gaochang to issue decrees, and arranging troops to various locations to retrieve detained refugees.

Two hours later, Yuanjue came looking for them.

"Princess, the King requests your presence at Wang Temple."

Li Zhongqian frowned and asked: "Why go to Wang Temple?"

Now everyone in the Royal Court knew Tanmoroqie had developed romantic feelings for Yaoying. If she went to Wang Temple, what if the devotees became frenzied?

Yuanjue bowed: "Please rest assured, Duke Weiguo. Both inside and outside Wang Temple are guarded by imperial guards. The monks in the temple and the attending citizens would never dare to trouble the Princess."

Yaoying had been worrying about Tanmoroqie. After finishing a letter, she clapped her hands and said, "Lead the way."

...

Wang Temple.

At the ritual platform in the square, prayer flags fluttered in the wind, surrounded by flower garlands, incense burners emitting smoke that formed a light mist. Hundreds of silver candles burned fiercely, illuminating the high platform in brilliant splendor.

The temple bell, golden drum, stone chimes, zheng drums, and cymbals sounded in sequence, creating waves of Sanskrit chanting.Upon the Dharma platform, Tanmoroqie sat upright before the Buddha statue, clad in a snow-white kasaya adorned with golden patterns. He chanted scriptures for the transcendence of souls, his entire being seemingly enveloped in a sacred aura, exuding an elegant and noble demeanor, his voice clear and melodious yet carrying a distant chill.

Robed monks stood below the platform, following along in recitation.

The area beneath the platform teemed with a dense, dark mass of people—the entire city’s populace had gathered. With palms pressed together in reverence, they silently whispered the names of departed loved ones, hot tears streaming from their eyes.

Military commanders, officials remaining in the Holy City, tribal chieftains, lords who had arrived with reinforcements from various regions, and envoys from other nations also knelt below the platform, chanting scriptures.

The collective recitation converged like countless rivers flowing into the sea, coalescing into a vast, mighty wave.

As the solemn Buddhist rituals concluded, the crowd bowed their heads, wiping away tears.

Tanmoroqie rose, his emerald eyes sweeping calmly across the scene. Under the gaze of devotees and monks, he set down his khakkhara staff and descended the high platform step by step, heading toward the Buddha hall.

The common people looked around in confusion, exchanging uncertain glances before stepping forward to follow him, calling out his Dharma name.

The imperial guards stopped them outside the great hall.

Tanmoroqie remained silent.

Inside the hall, several candles flickered, their smoke curling through the air. Elder Monk Vinayaka Tido stood before the Buddha statue, leaning on a bronze staff, his aged face etched with compassion.

As Tanmoroqie entered the hall, the golden light shimmering on his kasaya rippled like disturbed water. He lifted his gaze to the radiant golden Buddha, joining his palms in reverence.

“I led armies into battle, committing countless acts of slaughter. I deserve punishment.”

Elder Tido sighed deeply and spoke slowly, “Your Majesty, the people and monks already know your identity as the Regent. You have saved the masses from suffering and remain the Buddha Prince in their hearts. You should not be punished.”

Tanmoroqie’s expression remained impassive as he gazed at the Buddha statue, replying softly, “As long as one is a Sramana, one must uphold the precepts.”

After a pause, he added, “This will be the last time I accept punishment.”

Elder Tido froze, his wrinkled face trembling slightly, nearly losing his balance.

“Your Majesty…” he responded, his expression pained, “General Saisang’er was executed by the monastery’s Monk Soldiers… The abbots, fearing a repeat of history, panicked upon learning you were the Regent. They believed Princess Chima’s claims that you had lost reason and slaughtered indiscriminately… The common people were kept in the dark. Unversed in court politics and unaware of the royal family’s internal strife, they could not comprehend Your Majesty’s profound intentions…”

Elder Tido heaved another long sigh and bowed to Tanmoroqie.

“Would you abandon the path you have cultivated for years merely because the world misunderstands you? You possess innate brilliance—the most gifted and spiritually rooted individual I have ever encountered, the most accomplished disciple of Boroliuzhi. If you dedicate yourself to studying Buddhist teachings, you will undoubtedly become a great vessel of the Dharma. To abandon this midway would be an immense loss!”

Tanmoroqie’s demeanor remained serene, yet his gaze held firm resolve: “All phenomena arise from the mind. A single thought encompasses all practices; illuminating the mind reveals one’s true nature, and realizing this nature leads to Buddhahood. The path I have chosen differs from that of the monastery’s monks. Since our ways diverge, there is no need to walk together.”

“In my youth, witnessing court officials scheming for immediate gains while the people suffered in poverty and war, I told my master: I vow to devote my life to pacifying this chaotic era and shielding the Royal Court from the flames of war.”

“If I do not enter hell, who will? Using war to end war, though it involves battle, is permissible.”

“Whether the world doubts me, despises me, or monks scorn and ridicule me—to me, these are but passing clouds.”He remembered his conviction: to quell the flames of war, to ensure the lasting peace of the Royal Court, and to lay down arms and disband the troops.

Master Titou trembled all over: "Then why does the King wish to abandon his path?"

Tanmoroqie clasped his hands and sat cross-legged: "What is the path?"

Master Titou was taken aback.

Tanmoroqie gazed at the Buddha statue and spoke slowly: "A thousand rivers reflect a thousand moons; the moon is like the Buddha-nature, and the rivers are like all living beings. The Buddha-nature resides in the human heart. The moon shines upon the rivers, reflecting everywhere. Every river can mirror the bright moon. I am like the thousand rivers, and I too have my Buddha-nature, my bright moon, my path."

"For over twenty years, I have shouldered the Royal Court, devoted myself to cultivating the path, and dared not slacken in the slightest... I have no regrets toward the Royal Court, no regrets toward my convictions, but I have failed one person alone."

"She knows me, understands me, has weathered storms with me, and forged ahead with me. When I face her, desires surge uncontrollably, greed, anger, and delusion arise, and my mind cannot find peace. Even when reciting Scriptures, I cannot restrain them. I once believed that in this life, I would forever fall into hell, and only after death could I fulfill my selfish desires. The moment she returned, I knew that this obsession had already penetrated my very core, etched into my bones."

"Life is as fleeting as morning dew. Even outside the Sramana, I can still cultivate my path."

"If I were to sever my desires and never see her again, my life would be like an empty shell, devoid of any joy."

He had already sunk into the depths of love and desire, yearning for her every moment, and there was no need to deceive himself any longer.

Master Titou sensed Tanmoroqie's determination and resolve.

He took the well-being of all under heaven as his responsibility, bearing the entire Royal Court on his own shoulders. Holding Buddhist Beads in one hand and a steel blade in the other had never swayed or confused him. He always remembered his convictions and duties. Thus, when he was moved by love and desire, he remained equally resolute.

"King..." Master Titou sighed, "Princess Wenzhao's affection for you and her kindness to the Royal Court have spread throughout the court. You, honored as the Buddha Prince, uniting with her will no longer be met with obstruction or slander from the world."

He was still the Buddha Prince of the Royal Court, revered and worshipped by the faithful, who could tolerate his continued association with Princess Wenzhao.

A faint smile tugged at Tanmoroqie's lips: "On my path of cultivation, having her by my side is enough."

He could not let her continue to associate with him without name or status, allowing her to be secretly scorned by the world.

If he wanted her, he would give her everything, ensuring she was free from worries and could laugh heartily.

Master Titou shook his head, heartbroken and helpless. Who could argue with the Buddha Prince when debating the path?

Alas, the most brilliant disciple of Bololiuzhi indeed had unfinished worldly ties.

He raised his staff.

Tanmoroqie closed his eyes.

"Buddha Prince!"

"King!"

Cries erupted at the temple entrance as the common people surged into the hall, prostrating themselves and crawling forward on their knees: "King, you should not be punished!"

Master Titou closed his eyes for a moment and brought the staff down.

The first strike landed heavily. He clasped his hands and silently recited the Scriptures, recalling that day when she knelt in the hall, saying she had severed her thoughts and would never appear before him again.

When the monks questioned her, she did not wish to trouble him and answered cautiously.

Little did she know that at that time, she had no other intentions in her heart. Instead, it was he, high upon the throne in the Buddha hall, who was suddenly filled with wicked thoughts. The controlling desire of a ruler secretly grew, wishing to confine her in the Wang Temple, to have her by his side every day.

The second strike, the third strike... one after another, they fell. Beads of sweat formed on Tanmoroqie's forehead, yet he remained motionless and silent.The passage of over twenty years flickered through his mind with each strike of the staff. Her face surfaced in his thoughts—her faint smile that seemed to brighten even the gloomiest of skies.

Across countless mountains and rivers, she had journeyed from afar, stirring ripples in his tranquil heart and awakening desires he had long suppressed.

Perhaps this was the Buddha’s trial, a test he had failed.

Yet, he embraced it willingly.

The common people stared at him in stunned silence.

...

Outside the Buddha hall, Yaoying, who had rushed over in haste, froze at the sight within. After a dazed moment, she dashed down the steps and sprinted toward the main hall.

"Princess!"

Yuanjue and the others hurriedly intercepted her, half-supporting and half-guiding her back to the foot of the steps. They whispered in hushed, overlapping pleas, "Princess, the King has given orders—this is the punishment he must endure... No one can take his place. Once this is over, all will be well. You must not enter, or the King will hold us accountable."

Yaoying halted at the entrance of the main hall, her gaze fixed on the distant figure within. With each strike of the staff falling upon his back, her heart trembled, her fingers clutching tightly at her sleeves.

Li Zhongqian had followed and now stood beside her. He raised an eyebrow slightly but remained silent.

Inside the hall, Tanmoroqie endured the punishment in silence, his kasaya stained with patches of blood.

Venerable Tituo, panting heavily, set down the staff and sighed, pressing his palms together in a reverent bow.

Tanmoroqie lifted his gaze, slowly rose to his feet, and returned the bow. Then he turned, his eyes sweeping past the weeping devotees filling the hall, across the spacious front courtyard, beyond the fluttering prayer flags, and came to rest squarely on Yaoying outside the hall.

He stood within the hall.

She stood beyond its doors.

Separated by a threshold, by the insurmountable divide between the Sramana and the mortal world, by the vast distance between them, their eyes met.

Everything around them faded away. Memories of their encounters since they first met rose in their hearts. In his eyes, there was only her; in hers, only him.

Time and again, he had addressed her as "Princess."

She had called him "Venerable One."

Tears glistened in Yaoying’s eyes.

Standing before the Buddha statue, Tanmoroqie was pale and drenched in sweat. Yet, the corners of his lips lifted gently, and he smiled at her.

That smile was like a refreshing breeze sweeping over the banks of the Three-Life Pond, causing the noble, aloof water lily to slowly unfurl its petals and bloom in the wind.

In an instant, radiance burst forth.

Yaoying’s heart ached with sorrow.

Tanmoroqie gazed at her intently as he walked out of the hall.

The devotees wailed loudly, crawling forward to clutch at the sleeves and hem of his monastic robes, begging him to stay.

"Buddha Prince! You are still our Buddha Prince!"

"Legend says the Girl of Matanga and Ananda were husband and wife across lifetimes. You and Princess Wenzhao are also bound by a predestined relationship from a past life. Even if Princess Wenzhao remains in Wang Temple, it would not tarnish your reputation. You will always be the Buddha Prince we revere!"

"Buddha Prince, you cannot leave Wang Temple! You are the reincarnation of Ananda, the embodiment of the divine Buddha!"

The devotees wept uncontrollably, prostrating themselves, kowtowing, pleading, sobbing, and repenting.

As if hearing none of it, Tanmoroqie walked through the front courtyard, past the prostrate devotees, past the astonished court officials, generals, and chieftains. Step by step, he ascended the stairs, crossed the long corridor, and came to stand before Yaoying. Then, he raised his hand and removed his kasaya.

The kasaya flew across the corridor, swirling in the wind, rising higher and higher before finally drifting downward.

Outside Wang Temple, the crowd surged, countless heads turning in disbelief. News of the events inside the hall had spread like wildfire beyond the temple walls. The unbelievable tidings left everyone astounded, and they gathered at the base of the long steps, lifting their heads to watch as the kasaya slowly descended.Tens of thousands of gazes converged on that kasaya.

As the kasaya fell to the ground, a wave of restlessness swept through the crowd. A cry filled with pain and loss broke out, followed by another. People trembled slightly, tears streaming down their faces, and sobs rose from all directions, surging like ocean waves.

Their king had renounced monastic life.

The wind howled fiercely.

Tanmoroqie gazed at Yaoying, his inner robes already soaked with blood and sweat. Deep emerald eyes churned with turbulent emotions.

"Bright Moon Slave, from today onward, I am no longer a Sramana."

"I want to live well."

His heart had been still as still water, where life and death were but the blink of an eye, not to be forcefully sought. But now he had attachments—he wanted to be with her day and night, he wanted to live, to accompany her.

Yaoying's eyes glistened with tears.

She knew he had practiced Buddhist Dharma since childhood and never asked him to renounce monastic life. Whether he was the ruler of the Royal Court, a monk, or Su Dan Gu who could never reveal his identity—none of it mattered to her. In her eyes, he was the best Tanmoroqie.

Yet he had renounced.

Her eyes curved into a smile through tears, "You madman."

Tanmoroqie chuckled softly, his smile gentle but his tone overwhelmingly assertive and sharp: "You no longer have any chance for regret."

Now that she had returned, she could never escape again.

He staggered slightly, brows furrowing.

Seeing the bloodstains seeping through his shoulder garments, Yaoying felt her heart ache with sharp pangs. She supported his arm, "Even if you're a madman, I won't abandon you."

She would walk the road ahead with him.

Tanmoroqie laughed softly, raising his head to descend the long steps slowly with her.

The common people stared at them in stunned silence.

With serene expressions, they leaned against each other, step by step making their way through the long street.

An eight-treasure-inlaid carriage waited by the roadside. Bi Suo and imperial guards officers bowed respectfully to the pair.

Amidst chaotic footsteps on the long street, armored generals, tribal chieftains, officials, and lords streamed out of Wang Temple, kneeling and kowtowing: "We respectfully send the King back to the palace."

Tanmoroqie was their king—only he could intimidate neighboring kingdoms and subdue all tribes. Whether he remained monastic or not, people across the lands still revered him as divine. In the current Royal Court, no one could shake his imperial position.

The common people continued staring blankly at the pair, clearing the path as they watched them board the carriage.

Outside Wang Temple, Yuanjue cautiously cleared his throat twice, smiling at Li Zhongqian who had been skillfully blocked outside the gates by the imperial guards.

"Duke Weiguo, you see how perfectly matched the King and Princess are—truly a union made in heaven!"

Li Zhongqian's lips curved in a cold smile.

He hadn't rushed forward to stop Yaoying—but not because of trivial tricks like Yuanjue's.