The main hall was bustling with Buddhist rituals, monks seated in a circle chanting scriptures in unison, their shadows flickering amidst the resonant Sanskrit hymns.
Tanmoroqie was not in the main hall.
Bore led Yaoying through a narrow passageway into a secluded courtyard.
Yaoying’s gaze swept around—the main hall was heavily guarded, the corridors teeming with people, Monk Soldiers and royal guards forming multiple layers of defense outside the hall, densely packed.
News of Su Dan Gu’s death had spread, and Ashina Bisha had been "ordered" to verify it, returning with Su Dan Gu’s "remains." Everyone was convinced of Su Dan Gu’s demise. In recent days, the nobles and ministers had grown increasingly brazen, their attitudes more arrogant by the day. All Monk Soldiers in the Holy City had been recalled to Wang Temple to intimidate the officials.
Rumors swirled that several major roads in the city were now controlled by the four armies under noble families, and whispers of the Buddha Prince being confined once again in Wang Temple grew louder.
No news had arrived from Northern Rong yet—no one knew whether Wahan Khan or Haidu Aling had emerged victorious. Meanwhile, ministers in the Royal Court were already scrambling for power and influence.
Amid internal strife and external threats, a storm was brewing.
In the book, Tanmoroqie had single-handedly shouldered the burden of this crumbling nation until he was utterly drained and passed away.
Born to rule, his entire life was devoted to the Royal Court.
Yaoying frowned slightly.
Bore, who was guiding her, shot her a glare, cleared his throat softly, and said, "With the King here, Princess need not worry."
Yaoying looked at him in confusion.
Bore puffed out his chest and glanced at her sideways. "The King is resourceful and beloved by the people. Even without the Regent, no one would dare disrespect him! Princess, don’t look so troubled. Rest assured, no matter what happens, you are under the protection of Wang Temple now. General Xue Yanna won’t dare harm you."
With Su Dan Gu "dead," General Xue Yanna, who had once stormed the palace, was now boasting arrogantly, declaring he would become the new Regent. Some unsavory rumors had also surfaced, which the temple monks had heard.
Yaoying hummed in acknowledgment and nodded. Her earlier concern wasn’t for Xue Yanna but for Tanmoroqie.
They passed through a dim, narrow corridor and entered the courtyard.
A tall, straight-backed figure stood at the front of the courtyard, gazing up at the scattered snowflakes drifting from the eaves. Amid the swirling snow, the courtyard steps were silent and still. He stood motionless as if in deep meditation, his silhouette ethereal, like an ink-wash painting.
Bore gestured for Yaoying to approach and then withdrew.
Clutching the letter sent by Zhu Lvyun, Yaoying tiptoed to Tanmoroqie’s side, leaning forward slightly to glimpse his face. Her braids swayed, the red and green gemstones adorning them tinkling softly.
A cool gaze swept over her, lingering on her face for a moment before swiftly turning away.
Like a bird skimming across a clear sky, leaving no trace behind.
Seeing that he didn’t seem to be meditating, Yaoying took two steps forward and stated her purpose directly, handing him the letter. "Venerable One, the Northern Rong princess sent me a letter."
Tanmoroqie accepted the letter.
"Though I don’t know Zhu Lvyun well, I’m certain this letter wasn’t written of her own volition. I suspect the writer is either Yiqing Grand Princess or the Northern Rong minister who escorted her to the Royal Court. They’re trying to use me to get close to you or to uncover secrets of Wang Temple."
Yaoying spoke slowly, "I want to meet Zhu Lvyun and ascertain her true intentions, to prevent them from causing trouble while they have the chance."
As an outsider to the Royal Court, she was better suited to probe the Northern Rong envoy and uncover the purpose of their mission.Tanmoroqie hummed in acknowledgment, returning the letter to Yaoying: "Princess, you may act as you see fit."
Yaoying explained her plans to him.
After listening, Tanmoroqie nodded.
His eyes remained lowered throughout, never once glancing at Yaoying.
Sensing the cold detachment in his tone, Yaoying blinked in confusion. She tucked away the letter, lifted her gaze, and stared intently at him for a long while.
Tanmoroqie kept his silence, gazing at the quiet courtyard.
Yaoying’s dark, luminous eyes filled with bewilderment. She rose on her toes, trying to meet his eyes.
He noticed her movement from the corner of his eye but remained unmoving.
Yaoying circled him lightly on tiptoe, like a lively little bird fluttering around a solemn statue of the Buddha.
Still, Tanmoroqie said nothing.
Puzzled, Yaoying thought for a moment, then pressed her palms together in a respectful gesture and said softly, "I apologize for disturbing you, Dharma Master."
With that, she turned and left.
Before entering the corridor, Yaoying glanced back.
Tanmoroqie stood in his spacious crimson kasaya in the snowy early spring dawn, his beauty like the break of day—elegant and transcendent. A few pale rays of morning light filtered through the blue, pink, and gold murals on the wall, casting shifting shadows across his face and deepening the intensity of his features.
Had he been an ordinary man, he would surely have drawn the admiration of countless young women.
Yaoying was lost in thought as she watched Tanmoroqie, when suddenly a dark shadow swept overhead. The cry of a falcon drew near, and the bird swooped into the courtyard, landing on a lotus-carved stone pillar before her.
The falcon’s sharp eyes fixed directly on her.
Yaoying smiled, spreading her empty palms—she hadn’t brought any dried meat today.
Immediately, the falcon turned its head away from her.
Yaoying laughed in exasperation: It only cares about food!
Still chuckling, she lifted her head and met a pair of eyes watching her from the corridor. She froze.
Tanmoroqie had turned around at some point, his serene green eyes quietly observing her playful interaction with the falcon.
He was probably waiting to retrieve the message the falcon had brought.
Yaoying quickly stepped aside, wrinkled her nose at Tanmoroqie in a playful gesture of apology, and departed with a smile.
She had grown taller since first arriving at the Royal Court. Her silhouette was graceful, her dark braids cascading over her shoulders, and the colorful ribbons tied to her waist-length hair fluttered briskly in the wind.
Tanmoroqie turned and returned to the main hall, sitting cross-legged as he fingered his prayer beads.
The falcon followed him inside, alighting beside the desk. He set aside the beads, retrieved a piece of parchment, and glanced over it.
Hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor as Yuanjue strode in and knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty, everything has been arranged."
Days earlier, he had been ordered to Sand City to cooperate with Ashina Bisha. They prepared a corpse in advance to mislead the assassins into believing the Regent was dead, after which Yuanjue secretly returned to the Holy City. Once news of Su Dan Gu’s demise spread, Bisha, as commander of the central army, personally inspected the scene and confirmed the death with the discovered body. Yuanjue had been shuttling between the Holy City and various tribes to relay orders, leaving him overwhelmed and his voice hoarse.
Tanmoroqie rolled up the parchment and said, "Accompany Princess Wenzhao to meet the Northern Rong princess."
Yuanjue was taken aback but nodded in assent.
Tanmoroqie picked up a small box from the corner of the desk. "Return this to Princess Wenzhao."
Yuanjue accepted the box. It felt light, almost weightless, and he had no idea what was inside."Greetings, Princess of Northern Rong. Please escort Princess Wenzhao to the Sand Garden."
Yuanjue abruptly lifted his head, eyes wide with disbelief. After a long moment, he collected himself and responded respectfully, tucking away the box. Hesitating briefly, he asked softly, "Your Majesty, that Northern Rong princess is actually a Han woman. I heard from her guards that Princess Wenzhao originally took her place in marrying the barbarian tribe... If Princess Wenzhao clashes with the Northern Rong princess, what should I do? Should I intervene?"
Tanmoroqie replied indifferently, "Princess Wenzhao knows her limits."
Understanding the implication, Yuanjue withdrew.
The King believed Princess Wenzhao understood propriety and wouldn’t cross the line, so as long as she didn’t commit murder or arson, he need not interfere.
Tanmoroqie watched the blue hem of Yuanjue’s robe disappear beyond the doorway, his slender fingers turning a page of the scriptures, his gaze serene.
Princess Wenzhao was a princess of Great Wei and would eventually return to the Central Plains to reunite with her elder brother.
She did not belong to the Royal Court.
The tale of the Girl of Matanga was merely a lie she had spun casually.
Tanmoroqie lowered his head, picked up a brush, and began transcribing the scriptures.
...
When Yuanjue found Yaoying, she had just finished packing and was preparing to visit a Persian carpet shop near Wang Temple.
She had no wish to meet Zhu Lvyun at Wang Temple and had arranged to see her at the shop instead.
"Yuanjue, where are A Qing and the others now?"
Yuanjue answered, "My apologies, Princess. While General Ashina and I were diverting the assassins, we led Xie Qing’s group on a detour. They’ve entered the city now and will return to Wang Temple by nightfall."
Before leaving, Yaoying sat before her dressing mirror, blending rouge with her fingertips and dabbing gently at the corners of her eyes.
Instantly, her long, alluring eyes took on a faint peach-blossom hue, as if she had been weeping bitterly.
To those unaware, it appeared Yaoying had remained at Wang Temple without leaving.
To those who had sent the assassins, it seemed Su Dan Gu had died escorting her back from her mission to Gaochang, and she had been rescued by Ashina Bisha, spending these past days weeping in seclusion, too grief-stricken to show her face.
Although everyone now firmly believed Su Dan Gu was dead and she wouldn’t encounter outsiders on this outing, Yaoying dared not let her guard down.
Yuanjue nodded in approval. The princess remembered to maintain her disguise even now; she likely wouldn’t quarrel with the Northern Rong princess later.
"By the way, Princess, the Regent asked me to return this to you."
He produced the box.
Yaoying narrowed her eyes, accepted it, and opened it to reveal a neatly folded soft handkerchief inside.
Yuanjue’s eyes widened in surprise—the King had entrusted him to deliver a mere handkerchief to the princess?
Yaoying smiled, picking up the handkerchief. "I’d almost forgotten about this."
Yuanjue kept his eyes downcast, remaining silent.
Once outside Wang Temple, the clamor of voices filled the air beyond the carriage curtain. Yaoying lifted a corner to peer out.
Imperial Guards in blue robes and white cloaks, armed with swords, stood guard at the temple gates. Across the long street, knights of the Four Armies faced them in a tense standoff, the atmosphere heavy.
With their bronze tokens and waist plaques, they passed unimpeded, soon arriving at a two-story earthen building facing the street.
Tanmoroqie’s birthday was approaching, and merchant caravans from various nations had flocked to the city. The inns near Wang Temple were packed with traders from distant lands. Just days prior, the main thoroughfares had been bustling with ornate carriages and bustling crowds, but with the recent tensions in the city, merchants now dared not venture out, leaving the long street deserted.Yaoying had her personal guards wait downstairs and went up to the second floor with Yuanjue. She sat by the window overlooking the street, gazing below.
Half an hour later, the sound of wheels crunching through snow came from downstairs. A group of Northern Rong guards escorted a large carriage winding its way forward.
The carriage entered the courtyard, and a guard lifted the curtain. A young woman draped in a sable cloak stepped down, raised her head, and glanced around.
Upstairs, Yaoying watched Zhu Lvyun standing in the snow, her fingers tightening around the hand warmer.
After more than two years, she had almost forgotten Zhu Lvyun’s appearance. But after a few glances, she was certain the woman below was indeed Zhu Lvyun.
Yuanjue stood beside her and whispered a reminder, “Princess, the Northern Rong princess is, after all, an envoy of Northern Rong. No matter how much grievance you hold, you must restrain yourself later.”
Yaoying curled her lips slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Soon, creaking sounds came from the stairs, and Zhu Lvyun’s graceful figure appeared on the second floor. Over a dozen guards followed closely behind her—some Hu, some Han—each wearing a curved saber at their waist, exuding a composed aura.
Yaoying’s gaze swept over the faces of those guards.
Zhu Lvyun paused after ascending the stairs, nervously scanning the room. Seeing that only Yuanjue was present as a guard, she relaxed and then cast a glance at Yaoying. After studying her for a moment, her expression grew wary. Forcing a smile, she said, “Princess Wenzhao, it’s been a while. I hope you’ve been well.”
Yaoying asked coldly, “What did you want to say to me?”
Zhu Lvyun took a few steps forward. “Seventh Lady, regarding what happened in the past, I apologize to you here. Now I am no longer a princess of Great Wei. Both of us are adrift in foreign lands—we ought to support each other. I owe you, Seventh Lady, and I wish to make amends…”
She paused and stopped moving. A Han guard behind her immediately shot her a stern look, his eyes filled with a silent warning.
Zhu Lvyun bit her lip and continued forward, inching step by step toward Yaoying.
“Seventh Lady, your current situation is precarious. I genuinely wish to atone for my sins, which is why I asked to see you.”
After saying a few words, Zhu Lvyun glanced at the Han guard.
The guard continued to signal her with his eyes.
Zhu Lvyun took a few more steps forward, glanced at Yuanjue, and switched to the Wei County dialect. “Seventh Lady, to be frank, my aunt, Yiqing Grand Princess, is married to a judge of Northern Rong. My uncle now holds a high position and wields considerable influence in the Northern Rong Royal Court. When my aunt heard that you had taken my place in marriage and ended up adrift in the Royal Court, she was both furious and sympathetic—angry at me for causing your plight, and pitying you for having to endure such hardship at such a young age.”
“My uncle dotes on my aunt and listens to her in all matters; she is his only wife. Since seeking refuge with my aunt, my life has been comfortable, but I often think of you, Seventh Lady, and feel uneasy, unable to sleep at night. My aunt said your circumstances are strikingly similar to what she experienced in her youth. Seeing you stranded in the Royal Court, she truly cannot stand by and do nothing.”
After rambling on at length, Zhu Lvyun said sincerely, “Seventh Lady, I’ve come to save you.”
Yaoying looked at her, a slight curve forming at the corner of her lips, as if moved by her words.
Zhu Lvyun let out a relieved sigh and reached out to pat Yaoying’s hand. Before she could touch it, a flash of cold steel gleamed before her eyes.
In the blink of an eye, Yaoying leaned forward, grabbed Zhu Lvyun, and a dagger slid into her palm.
The icy blade brushed past Zhu Lvyun’s cheek. Terrified, she let out a sharp scream.Yaoying pulled her close, the dagger pressed against her face, and said calmly, "Fukang Princess, calm down. This blade has been sharpened."
Zhu Lvyun’s face turned deathly pale, her entire body trembling.
The sudden turn of events caught everyone off guard, leaving them stunned and speechless.
Both sides had been wary of each other’s personal guards—who could have expected that the beautiful, delicate, tear-stained, and pale-faced Princess Wenzhao would suddenly spring into action and personally seize Zhu Lvyun?
Zhu Lvyun’s guards stood frozen for a long moment before snapping back to reality and rushing forward. At the same time, Yuanjue also reacted, drawing his long blade and striking the guard heavily on the back with the flat of the sword.
Meanwhile, shouts erupted from both upstairs and downstairs. Personal guards hidden in the corners surged out, brandishing clubs as they charged at Zhu Lvyun’s guards. After a brief scuffle, the guards trapped on the stairs were tied up and thrown into separate rooms under watch.
"We are the Northern Rong delegation…"
The guards roared in protest, but the personal guards casually stuffed wads of hemp cloth into their mouths, silencing their shouts.
Yuanjue stared blankly as Yaoying’s personal guards dragged away Zhu Lvyun’s guards, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
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