Before dawn, Yaoying was awakened by Xie Qing.
She remembered that today was the day for Tanmoroqie's Sutra lecture. Rising to wash and dress in a plain cloth robe, she nibbled on sesame flatbread while reading scriptures by the flickering lamplight, silently committing them to memory.
The bell tolled from beyond the flower-covered wall, its deep, resonant sound drifting through layers of intertwined branches.
As dawn broke, Yuanjue came to escort Yaoying to the main hall. Noting her simple attire—her jet-black hair tied up with a plain jade hairpin and no other gold or jade ornaments—he nodded in approval.
Yaoying's courtyard was located in the northeast corner of the monastery, far from the main hall. Along the way, they passed through several long elevated corridors. Pointing at several courtyards below, she asked curiously, "What are those places?"
Over the past few days, she had noticed many buildings of varying heights along the monastery's outermost perimeter—some were government offices, some guesthouses, some inns, and some were retreats for nobles. Her own courtyard belonged to the latter category, so strictly speaking, she wasn't residing within the monastery proper and could come and go freely.
The monastery was where generations of Royal Court rulers had studied, covering a vast area. Monks gathered here, guards were everywhere, and every day many commoners came to worship and pay their respects, making it very lively. However, there was one section of courtyards that remained empty—quiet and deserted, with few people coming or going.
These were precisely the courtyards beneath her feet.
Following Yaoying's gaze, Yuanjue whispered, "That's the disciplinary hall."
Yaoying didn't press further.
She vaguely remembered that Tanmoroqie had been confined to the monastery since birth. The nobles, wanting to intimidate him and break his spirit, had deliberately imprisoned him in the disciplinary hall until he was thirteen.
The disciplinary hall was dug one level below ground. Morning light spilled into those shadowy courtyards like stones dropped into bottomless ancient wells—no glimmer of light could be seen, only darkness and chill.
How miserable must it have been to live in such a place for ten years?
As they approached the main hall, the buzz of voices reached Yaoying's ears.
Tanmoroqie permitted commoners to enter the monastery and listen to the lectures, regardless of status or gender. Early in the morning, devout commoners had already gathered below the hall, crowding the steps. Even though everyone deliberately spoke in hushed tones, the collective murmur was still audible.
The Sutra lecture was about to begin.
The main hall stood on a raised platform, unlike Central Plains monasteries shrouded in incense smoke. Clearly, the Royal Court's Buddhism, like that of the Central Plains, had incorporated many local traditions during its spread. All four walls were adorned with exquisite murals, the dome painted with elegant blue flowers. The hall was vast, clean, and majestic, with narrow passages wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
A high platform stood in the center of the hall, surrounded by seated monks. The front left seats glittered with gold—a group of lavishly dressed nobles. Monk Soldiers guarded the corridors, while commoners below the steps occasionally stood on tiptoe to peer inside.
Yuanjue led Yaoying to a corner seat. Countless eyes turned toward her, but she remained composed, smiling back at them.
The onlookers' expressions stiffened.
After sitting down, Yaoying glanced around. Most of those staring were nobles and commoners; the monks displayed better composure, only stealing brief glances before quietly looking away.
Noblewomen cast sidelong glances at Yaoying, exchanging meaningful looks with one another.
Yaoying kept her eyes downcast, focusing inwardly. Her proficiency in the Hu language wasn't sufficient to understand the noblewomen's whispers, which conveniently spared her from the gossip.
Soon, monks escorted Tanmoroqie into the hall.Yaoying widened her eyes, momentarily stunned.
Tanmoroqie approached on foot, draped in a loose crimson kasaya, holding a rosary in his hand. His steps were unhurried and ethereal, his gaze serene and detached from worldly concerns.
This was the first time Yaoying had seen Tanmoroqie walk, and she felt an indescribable strangeness in her heart, her eyes fixed intently on him as he moved.
He stood tall and straight, his eyes like cold stars, his aura pure and noble.
Yaoying recalled how his legs had been swollen and blackened not long ago. The loose kasaya concealed his figure, making it impossible to tell how well his legs had healed.
Judging by his graceful stride, they seemed almost fully recovered.
Mengda Ti Po had returned to the Land of Brahma, and no one knew exactly what illness Tanmoroqie had suffered from. The Water Mang Grass treatment was essentially using poison to counter poison, and long-term use would inevitably carry hidden risks.
A few coughs and muffled giggles sounded nearby. Yuanjue whispered a reminder to Yaoying, "Princess..."
She had been staring too intently at Tanmoroqie.
Yaoying snapped back to reality and noticed all the women in the hall watching her. Realizing her impropriety, she averted her gaze.
Tanmoroqie stood atop the high dais, ascended to his seat, and settled down. With solemn dignity, he led the monks in chanting the Scriptures.
The nobles and commoners outside the hall also composed themselves and sat upright, joining in the chanting. The densely packed crowd appeared uniformly devout.
The distant, clear Sanskrit chants, solemn and majestic, were truly awe-inspiring.
Yaoying unconsciously held her breath, straightened her posture, and joined Yuanjue in reciting the Scriptures. After she had repeated the passages she had crammed over the past few days three to five times, the chanting ceased.
A young monk reverently approached the high platform with a scroll. Tanmoroqie randomly selected one, and the young monk clearly announced a name.
A monk below stood up, bowed to Tanmoroqie, and began posing questions.
Tanmoroqie answered briefly. The monk frowned in thought, pressed his palms together, and returned to his seat.
Then Tanmoroqie drew another scripture scroll. The young monk read the name written on the cloth, and another monk excitedly rose to his feet, rapidly firing off questions. Tanmoroqie remained composed, answering just as swiftly. The monk pressed on, almost aggressively, yet Tanmoroqie’s expression never changed as he responded to each query.
Finally, the monk pressed his palms together, his face full of admiration, and returned to his seat.
The young monk continued calling names. Each summoned monk appeared exhilarated, eagerly posing questions to Tanmoroqie, who answered them all in a calm voice.
Yaoying watched in confusion.
Yuanjue quietly explained that this was similar to a Buddhist debate. The monks had written their questions on scrolls and submitted them. Those whose scrolls Tanmoroqie drew would engage in a brief debate with him—covering all things, from Buddhist Dharma and principles to existence and non-existence, the clouds in the sky, and the grass on the ground. Anything could be debated.
Yaoying gasped in astonishment and braced herself to continue listening. The monks and Luojia debated in Brahmi, which she couldn’t understand. Yet, the rapid back-and-forth was fascinating to watch, especially with the monks’ varied expressions—some troubled, some smug, some dejected, others deep in thought.
After Tanmoroqie had selected ten scrolls, the young monk removed the tray. The monks below regained their serene expressions, and the atmosphere in the hall relaxed considerably. Luojia then began his sermon on the Dharma.He first spoke in Brahmi, then switched to Hu language, occasionally mixing in another Hu dialect. His voice was clear and bright, with a melodious tone like jade beads falling onto a plate, carrying a soothing rhythm.
Everyone inside and outside the hall listened as if intoxicated, with women occasionally bowing their heads to wipe away tears.
Yaoying could tell Tanmoroqie was telling a story about the causality of good and evil, but she couldn’t understand much beyond that. She sat upright on her knees for a long time, her body aching all over, and couldn’t help but subtly shift her position.
A cool gaze swept over her.
Gentle, yet with an unassuming force.
Yaoying shivered involuntarily and immediately straightened up, not moving a muscle as she continued to listen.
Tanmoroqie glanced at her dark, glossy hair and shifted his gaze away.
This time, Yaoying didn’t dare to move. After sitting for another quarter of an hour, the crowd erupted in waves of sighs and chants of the Buddha’s name. Everyone stood up, respectfully pressing their palms together and watching as Tanmoroqie descended from the high platform and left, surrounded by monks.
When his lean figure disappeared beyond the hall’s entrance, Yaoying breathed a sigh of relief: Was it over? He wasn’t going to quiz her on her studies?
So all she had to do was sit quietly and listen to the morning lecture.
Just as Yaoying stood up to leave, several figures loomed over her.
Bore and a few monks stood before her, their expressions stern. With a cold smile, Bore presented several Scriptures. "Princess, have you gained any insights from your study of the Buddhist Dharma?"
Yaoying’s lips twitched: She had celebrated too soon—the one quizzing her was right here!
Bore stood in front of Yaoying, his back as straight as a poplar tree, and began testing her on the contents of the Scriptures.
The questions he asked happened to be the very sections Tanmoroqie had instructed Yuanjue to remind Yaoying about.
Yaoying was taken aback for a moment, then chuckled inwardly: The monk had actually helped her cheat.
Although she couldn’t grasp the profound meanings in the texts, memorization was no challenge for her, and she answered fluently.
Bore frowned, opened another book, and continued questioning.
Yaoying still recited fluently.
After going through several books without stumping Yaoying, Bore couldn’t hide his frustration and asked, "Do you understand their meaning?"
Yaoying narrowed her eyes slightly and replied with a smile, "No."
Before Bore could say anything, she retorted, "Do you understand all of it?"
Bore wanted to argue back, but meeting Yaoying’s smiling gaze, his face flushed slightly. He wasn’t a tonsured monk, just a guard following Tanmoroqie—how could he claim to understand the meaning of the Scriptures? If he gave an affirmative answer, she would surely press him relentlessly!
He had no choice but to shake his head.
Yaoying smiled.
Unwilling to admit defeat, Bore pressed further, "Is this all you’ve memorized these days?"
Yaoying cleared her throat and said seriously, "I’ve been diligently studying one Scripture these days."
Bore looked at her with suspicion. "Which Scripture?"
Yaoying recited the Heart Sutra word for word.
The Heart Sutra, also known as the Maha Prajna Paramita Hridaya Sutra, is concise and powerful. The version translated by the Tang monk Xuanzang contains only a little over three hundred characters. It is succinct and clear yet holds infinite meaning, as it extracts the essence from hundreds of Buddhist Scriptures, condensing millions of words from vast Buddhist texts into a single piece.
Yaoying had thought it through: This widely circulated sutra in the Central Plains would be enough to handle quizzes for the next several months—simple and effortless.
She recited it fluently, but Bore wore a blank expression. "What did you recite?"
Yaoying was even more confused than he was. "The Heart Sutra?"
Bore said firmly, "I’ve never heard of this sutra."
Yaoying explained, "I recited the version translated by the Central Plains monk Xuanzang. It might be different from the one you study."Bore furrowed his brows deeply, exchanged glances with several monks beside him. One of them shook his head at him, and after a brief, hushed discussion, they asked, "Has the Princess gained any insights?"
Yaoying pressed her palms together and said, "The Scriptures are profound and timeless. I have yet to grasp their true meaning, but reciting them multiple times brings peace and tranquility to my heart."
Bore was taken aback. If Yaoying had claimed to have gained some understanding, he could have debated the truth with her, but with her response, he found no fault.
A monk beside him showed an appreciative expression, nodding as he said, "For the Princess to have such a realization shows she is truly immersing herself in spiritual practice."
Yaoying smiled modestly.
Bore’s eyelid twitched slightly.
The monks bowed to Yaoying and turned to leave.
Yaoying asked Yuanjue, who was nearby, "Did I pass the test?"
Yuanjue smiled and replied, "The Princess performed excellently. From now on, the gossip in the city should lessen. As long as the Princess demonstrates her dedication to studying the Buddhist Dharma, these monks won’t dare to trouble her intentionally."
Yaoying’s heart stirred.
So, when Tanmoroqie had advised her to handle the examination well, it was to help her, to make her days in the Holy City more comfortable.
As it was nearly time for the midday meal, Yuanjue escorted Yaoying back to her courtyard.
Footsteps sounded behind them, and a guard hurried over: "The King requests the Princess’s presence in the meditation room."
Yuanjue acknowledged the order and accompanied Yaoying to the meditation room.
The courtyard was quiet, the sky a clear blue with drifting clouds. The delicate blue flowers and leaves on the dome took on a deep azure hue under the brilliant sunlight, while golden light shimmered faintly among the murals.
Tanmoroqie sat before a long desk reading a letter. Several travel-worn guards in blue robes knelt in the courtyard, one of them a close aide of Ashina Bisha.
News had arrived from the Northern Rong.
Yaoying quickened her steps along the corridor, pausing briefly outside the meditation room. She instinctively held her breath and composed herself before stepping inside.
The room was cool and dim. Tanmoroqie did not look up, merely raising a slender finger to gesture for Yaoying to take a seat.
Yaoying knelt opposite him, sitting upright with proper posture.
After finishing the letter, Tanmoroqie lifted his gaze and said, "Haidu Aling has injured his leg."
Yaoying was startled.
Tanmoroqie glanced toward the courtyard. Understanding the cue, Yuanjue signaled for Ashina Bisha’s aide to step forward.
The aide knelt outside the corridor and slowly recounted, "By the time General Ashina arrived in the Northern Rong, Prince Haidu Aling had already returned to the main tent. It’s said that he was attacked by bandits on the journey, and one of his legs was crushed by a panicked horse. The weather was hot, and the wound festered. When the witch doctor treated him, he used the wrong medicine, and Prince Haidu Aling’s right leg is now useless. The General said that several princes barged into the tent to personally inspect Haidu Aling’s injury—his leg was even infested with maggots."
Yaoying’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably.
Haidu Aling had indeed "ruined" one of his legs.
The ambushing bandits were likely a trap set by the other princes, and he had turned the situation to his advantage, feigning a crippled leg.
The aide concluded, "The General recalled Princess Wenzhao’s warning that Haidu Aling might use a ‘bitter flesh’ scheme and suspects his leg isn’t truly ruined. He sent me back to seek the King’s instructions and to ask the Princess a question."
Tanmoroqie looked at Yaoying.
Yaoying suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe and said, "I did warn General Ashina."
The aide whispered, "The Princess understands Prince Haidu Aling’s temperament well. The General would like to hear your advice."
Silence filled the entire courtyard.Yao Ying met her attendants' expectant gazes and steeled herself to say, "Since Haidu Aling is using a self-injury ruse, General, why not turn his scheme against him? Let Prince Haidu Aling focus on recuperating properly."
Haidu Aling was feigning a crippled leg—Ashina Bisha could exploit the other princes' suspicions of him to make that leg truly useless.
The attendants exchanged glances, while Yuanjue guarding the doorway showed a flicker of surprise.
Tanmoroqie seemed entirely unsurprised by Yao Ying's response. Without a word, he picked up his brush and wrote a letter.
An attendant rose to receive the letter, saluted, and hurried out.
Yao Ying also stood to withdraw from the meditation room. As she descended the corridor, several guards happened to be entering with food trays. Her casual glance at the silver plates made her freeze in astonishment.
A platter of beef passed before her eyes.
Yao Ying turned, her gaze following that plate of beef.
The food tray was presented to Tanmoroqie. His slender, elegant fingers picked up a piece of meat.
Yao Ying stood thunderstruck.
Inside the room, Tanmoroqie noticed Yao Ying's fixed stare and lifted his eyes to meet hers.
The young maiden stood in the courtyard, staring dumbfounded at him with an expression as if struck by lightning.
Tanmoroqie paused, a faint trace of confusion drifting through his clear jade-green eyes.
Was she hungry?
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