In the Moonlight

The candle flame flickered.

Yuanjue slipped out of the relay station, his figure swift as lightning as he headed toward Sand City.

The night was deep.

A falcon landed silently on the windowsill, its yellow beak pecking at the dried mud flakes peeling off the earthen wall. Tanmoroqie extended his hand, and the falcon immediately raised its head, flapping its wings at him. He fastened a copper ring to the falcon’s claw, gently stroking the bird with his fingers.

The falcon emitted a low cooing sound before spreading its wings and soaring into the night sky.

He stood by the window, gazing at the pitch-black firmament, his eyes as calm and clear as water.

Ashina Bisha, Yuanjue, the martial assassin who had just delivered the message, the guards left behind in the Royal Court caves as a diversion, and Princess Wenzhao—only these few knew that the Regent was currently outside Sand City. These were his personal guards, who had sworn loyalty to him since childhood and were utterly devoted, unlikely to betray his secrets.

Princess Wenzhao was the exception.

The candle flame was extinguished by the night wind blowing through a crack in the wall, a wisp of blue smoke curling upward. Soft murmurs drifted from the neighboring room.

Tanmoroqie snapped out of his thoughts and turned back into the inner room where a stove burned.

The room was pitch-dark, warmth enveloped the gauze curtains like spring. Yaoying lay curled on the felt rug, fast asleep, occasionally murmuring indistinctly in her dreams.

Tanmoroqie bent down, sat cross-legged, and resumed his meditation to regulate his breathing.

The murmurs suddenly turned into frightened cries.

Tanmoroqie opened his eyes.

In the dim light, Yaoying, sleeping across from him, remained unconscious but twisted restlessly, her brows furrowed tightly. She seemed trapped in a nightmare, her hands clutching the blanket so hard they turned stiff and contorted, a fine sweat beading on her pale face.

Tanmoroqie recalled when she fell ill in Gaochang. At first, she might have been testing his identity, often finding excuses to approach him along the journey. But once she truly fell ill, she stopped probing into who he was. No matter how many peculiarities she noticed about him, she never questioned further, still trusting and drawing close to him, disregarding even the boundaries between men and women.

Many revered and admired him, but she was the only one who held an almost naive trust in his other identity.

Yaoying’s brows furrowed even tighter, her entire body trembling slightly.

During the day, when she encountered Zhu Lvyun, she had been momentarily distracted but quickly suppressed her worries, regaining her spirited demeanor. Now, asleep and relaxed, the fears from two years of wandering and the dread of being unable to change Li Zhongqian’s fate flooded her dreams. She dreamed again of Li Xuanzhen causing Li Zhongqian’s death, running helplessly across a battlefield strewn with corpses, calling out for her elder brother over and over.

Run, run faster.

Yaoying’s hands, gripping the blanket, were clenched so tightly they grew stiff and twisted.

Tanmoroqie frowned, rose, and walked over to Yaoying. Bending down, he gently pried her hands open and removed her glove—the ointment on her wound had rubbed off.

Suddenly, her fingers tightened, clutching his hand desperately, like a drowning person seizing a floating log. Her grip was firm yet tender, like delicate vines winding around him, soft yet tenacious.

Tanmoroqie did not pull away. With his free right hand, he opened the medicine box, reapplied the ointment to her wound, and wiped his hands clean. Then, lowering his gaze, his full lips moved softly as he began reciting scriptures in a low voice.

In his childhood, whenever nightmares haunted him, he would recite scriptures.

“Bodhisattva, relying on the Perfection of Wisdom, finds the mind without obstruction. Without obstruction, there is no fear. Far beyond all inverted views, one reaches ultimate Nirvana…”He did not deliberately lower his voice; his tone was clear and cold, melodious and pleasant, carrying a unique rhythm.

The chanting, devoid of joy or sorrow, flowed gracefully and melodiously, converging into a majestic tide that shattered the illusions. The scenes in the dream dissipated like smoke, and Yaoying, sensing something, gradually calmed down.

Half-asleep and half-awake, her eyelashes fluttered lightly.

No lamps or candles were lit in the room, and the stove fire was faint. A figure sat beside her, resembling a statue of Buddha.

Yaoying’s consciousness was hazy, and she couldn’t see clearly, yet she felt inexplicably at ease. She closed her eyes and sank into a deep sleep.

After a while, hearing her steady breathing, Tanmoroqie rose and returned to his original seat.

Outside the window, snow fell silently.

Yaoying slept soundly and woke to find it already daylight.

She lay beneath the blanket, warm and comfortable all over.

Yaoying was momentarily dazed, unable to recall when she had fallen asleep. She quickly got up and saw Tanmoroqie still sitting across from her, meditating with his eyes closed. Her movements immediately became cautious.

Bright daylight streamed into the room from the high window, and judging by the glaring light floating before the curtain, it was a clear, sunny day.

Yaoying hadn’t expected to sleep so deeply and inwardly chided herself. Rubbing her eyes, she tiptoed to Tanmoroqie’s side, leaning in to examine his complexion closely. Noticing he looked somewhat haggard, her guilt deepened.

She wondered if he had experienced an episode last night.

Yaoying stared intently at Tanmoroqie’s face, her warm breath brushing against his neck.

He opened his eyes and glanced at her.

Seeing he was awake, Yaoying leaned in closer. "I accidentally fell asleep last night. Are you alright, General?"

"Fine."

"Are you feeling better today, General?"

Tanmoroqie gave a slight nod.

Yaoying breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and stepped back. She gathered the gauze curtain and opened the window to let out the stale air.

A knock sounded at the door, and a servant brought in fresh water, along with a platter of flatbreads—round and square, varying in size and thickness—and mutton.

Yaoying covered her face with a veil, accepted the items, filtered the water first, and brought a portion to Tanmoroqie. She broke off a piece of flatbread for herself, informed him, and went downstairs.

The hall was bustling, the stove blazing fiercely. Merchants from north and south of the Congling Mountains gathered, sitting in small groups on felt carpets, conversing loudly in different languages.

"Princess Wenzhao!"

Yaoying’s heart tightened, pounding wildly. Her fingers dug deeply into her palms, but she showed no outward sign of alarm. Calmly, she turned to look.

A group of Royal Court merchants, wearing pointed hats with brocade edges and brocade robes with turned-down collars, sat around the stove. Holding plates, they grabbed roasted mutton while discussing something, all flushed and wearing meaningful smiles.

Yaoying immediately realized the Royal Court merchants in the hall were gossiping about her, hence the loud mention of her title. She relaxed inwardly, steadying her nerves.

She asked a servant for a plate of roasted meat, found an inconspicuous corner, and sat cross-legged like the others. Grabbing some mutton, she listened carefully to what everyone was saying.

The merchant who had laughed loudly earlier asked others, "Has another princess arrived recently?"

Another merchant replied, "Indeed! This time, it’s the Northern Rong princess."

A wave of surprise swept through the crowd.

Everyone began discussing animatedly: "Does the Northern Rong princess believe in Buddhism too? Don’t they worship some wolf god and claim to be descendants of the divine wolf?"One person snorted coldly, rolled his eyes at the others' limited knowledge, and after successfully drawing everyone's attention, said with no small amount of pride: "I often deal with the Northern Rong people. In recent years, many noblewomen in the Northern Rong's Royal Court have converted to the Buddha, even the aunt of Wahan Khan has learned to perform almsgiving. There is a legend circulating among the Northern Rong that the Buddha Prince is the reincarnation of Ananda, profound in Buddhist Dharma and boundless in spiritual power, born to guard the Royal Court, capable of suppressing all evil spirits, protecting the Royal Court's stability, and unmatched by anyone! Whoever dares to attack the Royal Court defended by the Buddha Prince will be cursed. Many among the Northern Rong deeply believe this legend. When Wahan Khan went on campaign, even their priests advised the Khan not to oppose the Buddha Prince. Is it any wonder that a Northern Rong princess believes in Buddhism?"

Everyone suddenly understood. In recent years, whenever the Northern Rong attacked the Royal Court, if the Buddha Prince personally led the defense, the Northern Rong would inevitably be defeated. The Northern Rong people, terrified and fearful, converting to Buddhism was not surprising at all.

No wonder every time the Khan was defeated, the Northern Rong people would become restless, and the Khan himself would be badly frightened—all due to fear of the Buddha Prince's fearsome reputation!

After sighing in admiration for a while, someone asked: "Have any of you seen the Northern Rong princess? Is she more beautiful, or is the princess from the Land of Brahma, escorted to the Holy City by Brahmian warriors, more beautiful?"

One person excitedly said: "I've seen the Brahmian Princess Manda in Piluo Mo Luo. Princess Manda has amber-colored eyes, radiant like the beauty flowers on the Heavenly Mountains, more beautiful than the Northern Rong princess!"

Others chimed in agreement. Piluo Mo Luo was the royal capital of one of the countless small kingdoms in the Land of Brahma, where merchants had traded spices with Brahmian merchants. Princess Manda was famously known as a great beauty there, often seen riding an elephant to play by the river, and many had seen her.

When it came to comparing the beauty of Princess Manda and the Northern Rong princess, everyone offered their opinions, talking over each other in a lively debate.

Amid the argument, one person clapped his hands and laughed: "Then how do they compare to Princess Wenzhao?"

The hall instantly fell silent, leaving only the crackling sound of the fire.

Yaoying's eyelids twitched, and she nearly choked.

In the silence, someone softly broke it: "Princess Wenzhao is as beautiful as a goddess. I think Princess Wenzhao is more beautiful."

The merchant who had earlier spoken up for Princess Manda disagreed and retorted: "Princess Wenzhao is a Han woman. No matter how beautiful, she can't compare to a Brahmian princess!"

As the two sides argued without resolution, someone laughed heartily and stepped in as a peacemaker: "None of you get to decide. Only the Buddha Prince's opinion matters on who is truly the goddess."

Everyone stopped arguing, looked at each other, and shook their heads with wry smiles.

Yaoying, sitting in the corner, was momentarily speechless, wondering to herself: Why are these merchants comparing the beauty of several princesses? Also, why is every kingdom sending a princess to the Royal Court to celebrate the Buddha Prince's birthday?

Judging by the tone of the merchants' discussion, those princesses were definitely not just coming to the Royal Court to pay respects to the Buddha.

The hall buzzed with conversation as the merchants changed the subject to discuss Tanmoroqie's birthday.

"The Buddha Prince is still in seclusion. I don't know when he will preach at the Wang Temple again. My mother has been looking forward to it for over a month."

"According to the monks at the Buddhist temple, the Buddha Prince's seclusion lasts at least half a month, up to three months. It should be soon."

"Next month is the Buddha Prince's birthday. He will surely hold a dharma assembly to preach."

...

As they discussed, the topic suddenly circled back to Yaoying: "The Buddha Prince is in seclusion, and Princess Wenzhao hasn't been seen for a long time either.""I heard that Princess Wenzhao is infatuated with the Buddha Prince. After he entered seclusion, she chants scriptures devoutly every day, guarding him without eating or drinking, never stepping out of the main hall. She's become so thin she's practically skin and bones."

Someone exclaimed in astonishment, "Wouldn't that damage the princess's beauty?"

"If the princess didn't do this, how could she move the Buddha Prince's heart?"

...

Yaoying looked down at the roasted lamb on her plate, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly: Not eating or drinking every day wouldn't just damage one's beauty—it would starve a person to death.

The merchants finished their breakfast one after another and got up to go trade goods in the market.

Yaoying put down her plate and slowly went upstairs, her brows slightly furrowed.

The merchants had been speaking in various dialects, and she could only understand part of it. But through guesswork and some inquiries with the shop assistant earlier, she could roughly piece together what had happened at the Royal Court during her absence.

Tanmoroqie had made announcements to various countries, and rumors about him and her had spread to the Shule region through merchants' word of mouth.

Coinciding with Tanmoroqie's birthday, after diplomatic missions from various countries had just set out, they hurriedly sent their princesses as well. The reason given was that these princesses admired the Buddha Prince's elegance and came to the Royal Court to pay respects to the Sarira and pray for their subjects.

Princess Manda from the Land of Brahma had been accompanying her father on a diplomatic mission to Shule. When her father learned that Yaoying had moved into the Buddhist temple, he immediately sent a state letter and had Princess Manda escorted to the Royal Court, requesting the Buddha Prince to take care of her on his behalf.

Then there were the princesses from Kucha, Khotan, tribal princesses...

The Royal Court merchants spoke of all these princesses with suggestive tones, deliberately comparing them to Yaoying.

All signs indicated: these princesses had come for Tanmoroqie.

Yaoying's steps grew heavy, and her scalp tingled with unease.

The Royal Court was prosperous, and Tanmoroqie was its ruler. He had repeatedly defeated Wahan Khan and held back the unstoppable Northern Rong beyond the northern routes, allowing various small countries north and south of the Pamirs to catch their breath. If he weren't a monk, every country would be eager to form marriage alliances with him. It was precisely because he was a monk that countries hadn't brought up marriage proposals before.

Now that he had exceptionally granted her protection, all these small countries were becoming restless.

Yaoying could imagine how Bore would stomp and scold her when she returned to the Royal Court: See? All this trouble is because of you! You've defiled our king!

Tanmoroqie certainly wouldn't care about these matters, but since they originated because of her, she couldn't pretend not to know.

Since she was the cause, she would have to find a way to deal with it.

Yaoying's mind raced with schemes.

She needed to find a way to resolve these troubles, preferably something that would permanently eliminate everyone's ambitions without harming Tanmoroqie's reputation.