“Ai Qing, you are intelligent, exuberant and kind, capable of so many wondrous things. How could there be such a woman in this world! Rajiva has always thought you were a celestial being since I was thirteen. This time, you appeared when Rajiva was forced to break the precepts, making me even more certain that you were sent down here by the Buddha. Hence, even though it is a violation of one of the precepts—spending the nights with you—the thought that you are a disciple of Buddha helped assuage my guilt.”
His back is facing me and his shoulders are shaking. He pauses for a long moment before continuing, “But now, you are telling me that you are not a celestial being. All the oddities are because you are from the future. You are, in fact, an ordinary woman and not a disciple of Buddha. If so, the first time Rajiva broke the precepts could be excused as being under duress, but to do it again and again after that, Rajiva has ruined a lifetime of discipline as a practitioner. Rajiva has sinned by yielding to desire and will surely be blamed by Buddha. I am ashamed and full of remorse.”
As if I have slammed into something, my body becomes numb. I can scarcely believe he would utter such words. I stare blankly at his slender back, forgetting to cry.
“Rajiva, do you regret loving me, regret being at ease while holding me each night, thinking that I was a celestial being? Now, knowing that I am just an ordinary girl, do you no longer love me?”
“Rajiva has always been devoted to Buddha and desired nothing else. But demonic spirits had blindfolded me, causing me to have ‘relations’ with you. How can those brief moments of pleasure be enough for me to renounce my path! Rajiva will not be fooled by beauty any longer and will spend the rest of his life devoted to Buddha. The sin of breaking the precepts can never be atoned; Rajiva can only repent for the rest of his days. So, leave! Rajiva will not leave with you!”
Struggling to stand, I stumble in front of him and grab his sleeves. Look into the eyes that are trying their hardest to avoid me.
“I don’t believe you! You are only saying these things to make me leave [on my own], aren’t you?”
“Ai Qing, thank you for telling me about my life’s mission and my destiny.”
He closes his eyes and begins to chant under his breath:
“As to the cause of all suffering,
it has its root in greed and desire.
If greed and desire are wiped out,
it will have no place to dwell.
To wipe out all suffering—
this is called the third rule.*
For the sake of this rule, the rule of extinction,
one practices the way.
And when one escapes from the bonds of suffering,
this is called attaining emancipation.”
* refers to the third of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism. Rajiva is reciting from a verse in the Lotus Sutra, which he will later translate into Chinese and this version will be widely read across East Asia. English translation is from Kumarajiva’s Chinese version by: Watson, Burton. “Chapter 3. Simile and Parable.” The Lotus Sutra, Columbia University Press, 1993, pp. 72.
“Ai Qing, let us escape from the bonds of suffering! If this is destiny, why [must we] struggle?”
“Rajiva, I only want you to answer this: Do you love me?”
He opens his eyes, his expression full of sorrow, and slowly says: “Once, there was a prisoner who tried to escape. The king heard the news and sent an angry elephant to chase after him. [While on the run,] the prisoner encountered a dry well and fell into it. Fortunately, mid-fall, he managed to grab onto a patch of grass growing inside the well and stayed suspended in the air. At the bottom of the well was a wicked dragon whose tongue was spitting out poison. Near him were five poisonous snakes waiting to eat him. There was also a pair of black and white mice gnawing at the grass he was holding onto. Fearing that the dragons would spit poison on him should he fall, the prisoner wanted to climb out but was afraid of the angry elephant stomping on him. He wanted to hold onto the grass but was afraid that the mice would make it tear, and then the snakes would descend on him. But how opportune, there happened to be a big tree with branches hanging over the mouth of the well. Nestled on the branches was a bee nest. As the bees collect honey, a drop of it landed on the prisoner’s mouth. In that moment, tasting that sweet honey, the prisoner forgot about all the perils surrounding him: the elephant, the dragon, the snakes, and the mice.” *
* This is a parable that originated in ancient India but has since been incorporated into various traditions and religions across the world, east to west (Source: Zin, Monika. “The Parable of ‘The Man in the Well’. Its Travels and Its Pictorial Traditions from Amaravati to Today.” Art, Myths, and Visual Culture of South Asia, Warsaw Indological Studies Series. edited by Piotr Balcerowicz and Jerzy Malinowski, vol. 4, Manohar Publishers & Distributors, 2011, pp. 33–93.). The same source also stated that a Buddhist version was found in a collection of parables from sutras translated by Kumarajiva. I searched further but couldn’t determine which sutra.
Those grey eyes as clear as a lake of his look at me: “Ai Qing, that prisoner is us. The angry elephant represents impermanence1. The white mouse represents day and the black mouse, night. The patch of grass is life. The dragon at the bottom of the well represents sin, and the snakes are the five aggregates of attachment2. The honey on the tree represents the pleasure of having one’s desires satisfied. Because of our greed, we spend day and night being blinded by desire, forgetting everything: [the concepts of] impermanence, life, and the five aggregates.”
1 The Buddhist concept of ‘impermanence’, or anicca in Pāli and anitya in Sanskrit, is the first of the three marks of existence (trilakshana) (Source: Wiki).
2 Five aggregates of attachment or skandhas in Sanskrit and khandhas in Pāḷi, are the five factors that give rise to craving (desires) or attachment (Source: Wiki).
He sits down with his legs crossed, eyes closed, no longer looking at me as he says: “Rajiva will spend the remaining years in meditation, one heart one mind towards Buddha. Meditation is far superior to the joy of the five aggregates.”
“Stop…I will leave…”
I stand up, feeling frozen all over.
“You have resolved not to leave, so if I stay, I will only become a burden to you. If my leaving can enable you to practice Buddhism with all of your heart; if it can help you relieve all your feelings of guilt, then I will leave.”
I change into my black ‘night’ clothes of the modern era and put on my backpack, but end up lingering at the door, watching his figure with a heavy heart. It is already the middle of the night; all the lights are out except for a sliver of moonlight filtering through the window and casting a faint glow on his lonely silhouette. He keeps chanting mantras without pause, as if his lips cannot bear to be still. His voice is low but the silence of the night turns the sound into that of desolation. He refuses to rest, refuses to open his eyes, refuses to speak even one word with me.
While I was changing, I have already determined my next course of action, where I should go and what I should do once I get out of here. Rajiva, you readily accepted your destiny because you think it cannot be altered, but I am different. I am from the 21st century. I will not give up on my feelings so easily. If you do not want me next to you, then I will follow you secretly. If you encounter troubles, I will help you. Only when you truly do not need me any longer, will I leave.
“Rajiva, I’m leaving. Remember to eat on time and when you have free time, do continue with the translations.”
I want to tell him more, but my nose is burning. I pause to take a deep breath and swallow down my tears. I cannot just cry whenever. Crying will not solve anything.
He still has his eyes closed, but the sounds from his mouth no longer seem to resemble any mantras. He lifts his head and moonlight falls onto his face, a face that is sculpture-like but also incredibly lonesome.
“Ai Qing…” he finally opens his mouth, but his voice sounds faraway, as if a thousand li is separating us, “return to your time and forget about everything here. To you, Rajiva is merely an ancient figure that has long passed away.”
I bite my lips and tell myself not to cry, promising to never let any more meaningless tears fall.
一切有为法，
如梦幻泡影，
如露亦如电，
应作如是观
“All created things are like a dream,
an illusion, a bubble, a shadow,
a drop of dew, a flash of lightning.
Contemplate them thus like this.” *
* a gatha from Diamond Sutra, refer to Ch. 17 for further explanations.
I know he has his eyes closed, but I still break into my signature silly grin that he has often teased me for.
“Rajiva, this is my favourite verse from your translation of the ‘Diamond Sutra’. A month together, like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a drop of drew, it passes by like a flash of lightning. The Buddha says that everything is the result of causality* and harmony; you and I are the same. But in any case, I have been very happy in our time together. Thank you.”
* the Chinese words are 因缘, most likely a reference to Twelve Nidanas in Buddhism, which is part of the overall concept of pratītyasamutpāda. The latter is commonly translated to ‘dependent origination’, or ‘dependent arising’, but I opted for ‘causality’ here for simplicity.
Without hearing his reply, I quickly turn away and leave, afraid that my resolve would crumble at the sound of his voice. By the time I reach the courtyard, bathed in the cold midnight air that is steeped in moonlight, I can hear his chants still, the sound soft like a breath of wind blowing by:
“All created things are like a dream,
an illusion, a bubble, a shadow,
a drop of dew, a flash of lightning.
Contemplate them thus like this.”
Pusyseda and his wife come out to greet me while still putting on coats, surprised to see me clad in black from head to toe. At this moment, I must look no different from those female martial artists that appear at night in historical TV dramas, except the effect is quickly spoiled by the presence of the bulky Northface backpack on my shoulders. It is the middle of the night and the surroundings are quiet; I knew coming to knock on the gate of the State Preceptor’s residence would invite a lot of questions. If not because I have a favour to ask Pusyseda, I would have not come here and disturb their peaceful life.
I briefly explain my escaping situation and then hurriedly ask: “Pusyseda, will you be accompanying the king* to the Cakuri Temple?”
* referring to current Kuchan king, Bai Zhen, who is also his uncle
He nods, but there is a hint of confusion in his eyes. I stand up and plead: “No matter what, please bring me along!”
“Ai Qing!” he also stands up, his voice serious, “You have escaped the palace, so Lu Guang will most likely have people searching for you. Yet you are not hiding and instead want to jump right into danger. Don’t be foolish!”
“Pusysdeva, precisely because I escaped, Lu Guang wouldn’t expect for me to go to Cakuri Temple. The most dangerous place is the safest place. Also, in Lu Guang’s eyes, I was merely a tool to force Rajiva to break the precepts and of no value beyond that. He may wonder what methods I used to escape, but there is absolutely no way he would send an army to search for a person of no importance like me.”
“He does not necessarily think you are of no importance,” Pusysdeva stomps his foot and shakes his head, “He sent so many beauties to elder brother, and yet for so many days, brother would touch no one except you. Then as soon as Lu Guang threatened to harm you, brother immediately slammed his head against a column. Lu Guang is not stupid. He must have guessed how important you are to brother. You are walking into a trap by letting Lu Guang find you. Do you want to become a quandary for brother?”
“Pusysdeva, if I could escape from the palace, then I certainly have ways to protect myself. Lu Guang will not be able to catch me. If I stay here and wait, I will drive myself mad. I beg you, please bring me along. Just being able to see him will be enough for me. I will not do anything stupid and cause you trouble.”
The corners of my eyes feel hot but I try to hold it back with all my might. I have promised myself to not let any more meaningless tears fall.
“Ai Qing, I do not mind trouble. But if I bring you along, what will that do?” he softens his voice and extends a hand to me, but then pulls back mid-way.
“I don’t know what I can do for him, but I also cannot abandon him. I just want to follow him in secret, so that I can at least know that he is faring well.”
I give Pusysdeva a pleading look full of desperation: “If Xiao Xuan and the children were to encounter trouble, what would you do? Please understand how I am feeling right now.”
Pusysdeva’s gaze turns a bit hazy, as if he is lost in some faraway memories, before a sorrowful look overtakes his face as he stares at me. After a long moment, he lets out a sigh, “Ai Qing, you are still the same as you were eleven years ago…”
“Miss Ai Qing’s courage is truly admirable. This wife1 pleads my lord2 to help her,” Xiao Xuan has been sitting next to us in silence this whole time, but suddenly speaks up in Han.
1 妾 (qiè) is an archaic and deferential first-person pronoun that a Chinese woman used when speaking to her husband. I opted for “this wife” instead here.
2 相公 (xiànggong) is, like the pronoun above, an archaic form of address for one’s husband. I opted for “my lord” here.
“Xiao Xuan…” Pusysdeva looks at her with a sad smile, then proceeds to speak in Han.
“This wife has also tasted the pains of love and so understands the young miss’ feelings well. My lord, please help this poor couple1!”
1 The Chinese word here is 鴛鴦(yuānyāng), literal translation is a pair of mandarin ducks; yuān 鴛 and yāng 鴦 refer to a male and female mandarin duck, respectively. Mandarin ducks are believed to mate for life, so they are a symbol of wedded bliss and fidelity in traditional Chinese culture and often seen in weddings. (Source: Wiki) 鴛鴦 here refers to basically a lifelong couple.
“It’s not that I do not want to help, but how can I bring her with me? Lu Guang and his sons have seen her before. What should I do if her identity gets exposed?”
“This wife heard that the king will be bringing his concubines along to the temple, so it will not be strange for my lord to have someone with you as well. My lord can let Ai Qing-guniang dress up as me.”
Xiao Xuan pauses in thought for a moment and observes me carefully, before continuing with persuading her husband: “Ever since we married, this wife has rarely set foot outside, but everyone knows that this wife is a Han person. My lord can tell people that this wife has become ill and needs to wear a veil. Miss Ai Qing’s eyes are like mine, and so is her figure. If she disguises as this wife, nobody will suspect a thing. My lord is the State Preceptor, who would dare to lift my veil to confirm my identity?”
Brilliant! What a clever lady! I grab her hands in glee and say to her in my most sincere tone: “That’s great! Thank you, my lady!”
“Miss Ai Qing has a deep-rooted relationship with our family, so addressing me as ‘my lady’ sounds unnecessarily formal. Let us speak as sisters. This wife is older, so would the young miss mind me calling you as ‘meimei’?”
“Of course I don’t mind! Ai Qing is honoured to become sisters with a woman as intelligent and beautiful as my lady! However, I’m not certain who is older between us.” I quickly confess: “I am twenty-five years old!”
“Xiao Xuan, in terms of age, you have to call her jiejie. She is one year older than you,” Pusysdeva says with a laugh.
“But, but, she looks no more than eighteen, nineteen!” she says in admiration as she picks up my hands, graceful in her movements.
“She is full of surprises in many unexpected places.”
I signal Pusysdeva with my eye. He stops laughing and smiles gently at his wife, “It is already late. You should take Ai Qing to rest. Tomorrow, let’s prepare things so we can set off the next day.”
That night, I return to the same quarters as before. As I expected, everything is kept the same, even the pages of paper containing young Pusysdeva’s messy scrawls. Time has turned the paper yellow and the characters faded. I look at those pages, lost in nostalgia, when Xiao Xuan suddenly starts humming next to me. Even though it is slightly off-tune, the melody is definitely familiar. The song is “My Dearest Baby”!* Surprised, I turn to look at her.
* song by Wakin Chau, refer to Ch. 11
“My lord often sings this song to coax the children to sleep.”
She is smiling, her clear eyes looking at me directly, seeming to gauge my reaction.
“My lord once asked this wife whether there was such a lullaby [in Han], but this wife pled ignorance.”
It seems that this been a knot in her heart.
“Xiao Xuan, it was indeed me who sung this song, and both brothers have heard it.” I can sense her intentions, so it is better to be truthful: “It was so many years ago, so all it is now is only a faint memory. The most important is the present. Presently, you and the two children are his closest family and who he wants to protect the most.”
I gently take her hands and say earnestly: “I, too, have someone I want to protect the most. I lost my chance ten years ago, but now. Now, I won’t let go.” I look up at the dark sky outside, sorrow brimming in my heart, “Unless he doesn’t need me any longer…”
Xiao Xuan leaves with a look of relief. But of course, she should be happy.
I sit on the bed, lost in thought, for a long while. All the memories of this room come back and fill up my heart, little by little. The memories of those days are like vapour and in the blink of an eye, it has already been more than ten years. That little boy from back then, who every morning would sit bowl-legged next to my bed, waiting for me to wake up, is now a man with wrinkles on his forehead, calm and measured.
I suddenly recall their father’s words: Pusysdeva is flirtatious but also someone who takes responsibility for his every action, and though he may seem foolhardy and reckless as a youth now, time will pass and he will mature. As for Rajiva, he is far too clever and has never truly suffered in life. Thinks too much, but never shares any of it with anyone. That kind of personality will bring him misery later on.
I smile bitterly. Ten years later, Kumarayana’s worries have been confirmed.
Rajiva, how much do you suppress in your heart? What are you doing now? Are you perhaps also watching the starry sky and waiting for it to turn into dawn? When I left, I deliberately did not look at you, afraid that I will not be able to leave otherwise. I consoled myself with the thought that you only spoke those harsh words to drive me away. Even though you have never once said the word ‘love’ to me, I know that you have loved me since the moment you picked up the brush and drew portraits of me. You love me, not because I am a celestial being, or that I am a disciple of Buddha, but simply because I was the first and only woman who has ever entered your heart.
I sigh heavily and try to push all the worries in my heart outward. I can only use those reasons to desperately convince myself. Otherwise, what excuses would I have to follow him?
“Ai Qing, you are intelligent, exuberant and kind, capable of so many wondrous things. How could there be such a woman in this world! Rajiva has always thought you were a celestial being since I was thirteen. This time, you appeared when Rajiva was forced to break the precepts, making me even more certain that you were sent down here by the Buddha. Hence, even though it is a violation of one of the precepts—spending the nights with you—the thought that you are a disciple of Buddha helped assuage my guilt.”
His back is facing me and his shoulders are shaking. He pauses for a long moment before continuing, “But now, you are telling me that you are not a celestial being. All the oddities are because you are from the future. You are, in fact, an ordinary woman and not a disciple of Buddha. If so, the first time Rajiva broke the precepts could be excused as being under duress, but to do it again and again after that, Rajiva has ruined a lifetime of discipline as a practitioner. Rajiva has sinned by yielding to desire and will surely be blamed by Buddha. I am ashamed and full of remorse.”
As if I have slammed into something, my body becomes numb. I can scarcely believe he would utter such words. I stare blankly at his slender back, forgetting to cry.
“Rajiva, do you regret loving me, regret being at ease while holding me each night, thinking that I was a celestial being? Now, knowing that I am just an ordinary girl, do you no longer love me?”
“Rajiva has always been devoted to Buddha and desired nothing else. But demonic spirits had blindfolded me, causing me to have ‘relations’ with you. How can those brief moments of pleasure be enough for me to renounce my path! Rajiva will not be fooled by beauty any longer and will spend the rest of his life devoted to Buddha. The sin of breaking the precepts can never be atoned; Rajiva can only repent for the rest of his days. So, leave! Rajiva will not leave with you!”
Struggling to stand, I stumble in front of him and grab his sleeves. Look into the eyes that are trying their hardest to avoid me.
“I don’t believe you! You are only saying these things to make me leave [on my own], aren’t you?”
“Ai Qing, thank you for telling me about my life’s mission and my destiny.”
He closes his eyes and begins to chant under his breath:
“As to the cause of all suffering,
it has its root in greed and desire.
If greed and desire are wiped out,
it will have no place to dwell.
To wipe out all suffering—
this is called the third rule.*
For the sake of this rule, the rule of extinction,
one practices the way.
And when one escapes from the bonds of suffering,
this is called attaining emancipation.”
* refers to the third of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism. Rajiva is reciting from a verse in the Lotus Sutra, which he will later translate into Chinese and this version will be widely read across East Asia. English translation is from Kumarajiva’s Chinese version by: Watson, Burton. “Chapter 3. Simile and Parable.” The Lotus Sutra, Columbia University Press, 1993, pp. 72.
“Ai Qing, let us escape from the bonds of suffering! If this is destiny, why [must we] struggle?”
“Rajiva, I only want you to answer this: Do you love me?”
He opens his eyes, his expression full of sorrow, and slowly says: “Once, there was a prisoner who tried to escape. The king heard the news and sent an angry elephant to chase after him. [While on the run,] the prisoner encountered a dry well and fell into it. Fortunately, mid-fall, he managed to grab onto a patch of grass growing inside the well and stayed suspended in the air. At the bottom of the well was a wicked dragon whose tongue was spitting out poison. Near him were five poisonous snakes waiting to eat him. There was also a pair of black and white mice gnawing at the grass he was holding onto. Fearing that the dragons would spit poison on him should he fall, the prisoner wanted to climb out but was afraid of the angry elephant stomping on him. He wanted to hold onto the grass but was afraid that the mice would make it tear, and then the snakes would descend on him. But how opportune, there happened to be a big tree with branches hanging over the mouth of the well. Nestled on the branches was a bee nest. As the bees collect honey, a drop of it landed on the prisoner’s mouth. In that moment, tasting that sweet honey, the prisoner forgot about all the perils surrounding him: the elephant, the dragon, the snakes, and the mice.” *
* This is a parable that originated in ancient India but has since been incorporated into various traditions and religions across the world, east to west (Source: Zin, Monika. “The Parable of ‘The Man in the Well’. Its Travels and Its Pictorial Traditions from Amaravati to Today.” Art, Myths, and Visual Culture of South Asia, Warsaw Indological Studies Series. edited by Piotr Balcerowicz and Jerzy Malinowski, vol. 4, Manohar Publishers & Distributors, 2011, pp. 33–93.). The same source also stated that a Buddhist version was found in a collection of parables from sutras translated by Kumarajiva. I searched further but couldn’t determine which sutra.
Those grey eyes as clear as a lake of his look at me: “Ai Qing, that prisoner is us. The angry elephant represents impermanence1. The white mouse represents day and the black mouse, night. The patch of grass is life. The dragon at the bottom of the well represents sin, and the snakes are the five aggregates of attachment2. The honey on the tree represents the pleasure of having one’s desires satisfied. Because of our greed, we spend day and night being blinded by desire, forgetting everything: [the concepts of] impermanence, life, and the five aggregates.”
1 The Buddhist concept of ‘impermanence’, or anicca in Pāli and anitya in Sanskrit, is the first of the three marks of existence (trilakshana) (Source: Wiki).
2 Five aggregates of attachment or skandhas in Sanskrit and khandhas in Pāḷi, are the five factors that give rise to craving (desires) or attachment (Source: Wiki).
He sits down with his legs crossed, eyes closed, no longer looking at me as he says: “Rajiva will spend the remaining years in meditation, one heart one mind towards Buddha. Meditation is far superior to the joy of the five aggregates.”
“Stop…I will leave…”
I stand up, feeling frozen all over.
“You have resolved not to leave, so if I stay, I will only become a burden to you. If my leaving can enable you to practice Buddhism with all of your heart; if it can help you relieve all your feelings of guilt, then I will leave.”
I change into my black ‘night’ clothes of the modern era and put on my backpack, but end up lingering at the door, watching his figure with a heavy heart. It is already the middle of the night; all the lights are out except for a sliver of moonlight filtering through the window and casting a faint glow on his lonely silhouette. He keeps chanting mantras without pause, as if his lips cannot bear to be still. His voice is low but the silence of the night turns the sound into that of desolation. He refuses to rest, refuses to open his eyes, refuses to speak even one word with me.
While I was changing, I have already determined my next course of action, where I should go and what I should do once I get out of here. Rajiva, you readily accepted your destiny because you think it cannot be altered, but I am different. I am from the 21st century. I will not give up on my feelings so easily. If you do not want me next to you, then I will follow you secretly. If you encounter troubles, I will help you. Only when you truly do not need me any longer, will I leave.
“Rajiva, I’m leaving. Remember to eat on time and when you have free time, do continue with the translations.”
I want to tell him more, but my nose is burning. I pause to take a deep breath and swallow down my tears. I cannot just cry whenever. Crying will not solve anything.
He still has his eyes closed, but the sounds from his mouth no longer seem to resemble any mantras. He lifts his head and moonlight falls onto his face, a face that is sculpture-like but also incredibly lonesome.
“Ai Qing…” he finally opens his mouth, but his voice sounds faraway, as if a thousand li is separating us, “return to your time and forget about everything here. To you, Rajiva is merely an ancient figure that has long passed away.”
I bite my lips and tell myself not to cry, promising to never let any more meaningless tears fall.
一切有为法，
如梦幻泡影，
如露亦如电，
应作如是观
“All created things are like a dream,
an illusion, a bubble, a shadow,
a drop of dew, a flash of lightning.
Contemplate them thus like this.” *
* a gatha from Diamond Sutra, refer to Ch. 17 for further explanations.
I know he has his eyes closed, but I still break into my signature silly grin that he has often teased me for.
“Rajiva, this is my favourite verse from your translation of the ‘Diamond Sutra’. A month together, like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a drop of drew, it passes by like a flash of lightning. The Buddha says that everything is the result of causality* and harmony; you and I are the same. But in any case, I have been very happy in our time together. Thank you.”
* the Chinese words are 因缘, most likely a reference to Twelve Nidanas in Buddhism, which is part of the overall concept of pratītyasamutpāda. The latter is commonly translated to ‘dependent origination’, or ‘dependent arising’, but I opted for ‘causality’ here for simplicity.
Without hearing his reply, I quickly turn away and leave, afraid that my resolve would crumble at the sound of his voice. By the time I reach the courtyard, bathed in the cold midnight air that is steeped in moonlight, I can hear his chants still, the sound soft like a breath of wind blowing by:
“All created things are like a dream,
an illusion, a bubble, a shadow,
a drop of dew, a flash of lightning.
Contemplate them thus like this.”
Pusyseda and his wife come out to greet me while still putting on coats, surprised to see me clad in black from head to toe. At this moment, I must look no different from those female martial artists that appear at night in historical TV dramas, except the effect is quickly spoiled by the presence of the bulky Northface backpack on my shoulders. It is the middle of the night and the surroundings are quiet; I knew coming to knock on the gate of the State Preceptor’s residence would invite a lot of questions. If not because I have a favour to ask Pusyseda, I would have not come here and disturb their peaceful life.
I briefly explain my escaping situation and then hurriedly ask: “Pusyseda, will you be accompanying the king* to the Cakuri Temple?”
* referring to current Kuchan king, Bai Zhen, who is also his uncle
He nods, but there is a hint of confusion in his eyes. I stand up and plead: “No matter what, please bring me along!”
“Ai Qing!” he also stands up, his voice serious, “You have escaped the palace, so Lu Guang will most likely have people searching for you. Yet you are not hiding and instead want to jump right into danger. Don’t be foolish!”
“Pusysdeva, precisely because I escaped, Lu Guang wouldn’t expect for me to go to Cakuri Temple. The most dangerous place is the safest place. Also, in Lu Guang’s eyes, I was merely a tool to force Rajiva to break the precepts and of no value beyond that. He may wonder what methods I used to escape, but there is absolutely no way he would send an army to search for a person of no importance like me.”
“He does not necessarily think you are of no importance,” Pusysdeva stomps his foot and shakes his head, “He sent so many beauties to elder brother, and yet for so many days, brother would touch no one except you. Then as soon as Lu Guang threatened to harm you, brother immediately slammed his head against a column. Lu Guang is not stupid. He must have guessed how important you are to brother. You are walking into a trap by letting Lu Guang find you. Do you want to become a quandary for brother?”
“Pusysdeva, if I could escape from the palace, then I certainly have ways to protect myself. Lu Guang will not be able to catch me. If I stay here and wait, I will drive myself mad. I beg you, please bring me along. Just being able to see him will be enough for me. I will not do anything stupid and cause you trouble.”
The corners of my eyes feel hot but I try to hold it back with all my might. I have promised myself to not let any more meaningless tears fall.
“Ai Qing, I do not mind trouble. But if I bring you along, what will that do?” he softens his voice and extends a hand to me, but then pulls back mid-way.
“I don’t know what I can do for him, but I also cannot abandon him. I just want to follow him in secret, so that I can at least know that he is faring well.”
I give Pusysdeva a pleading look full of desperation: “If Xiao Xuan and the children were to encounter trouble, what would you do? Please understand how I am feeling right now.”
Pusysdeva’s gaze turns a bit hazy, as if he is lost in some faraway memories, before a sorrowful look overtakes his face as he stares at me. After a long moment, he lets out a sigh, “Ai Qing, you are still the same as you were eleven years ago…”
“Miss Ai Qing’s courage is truly admirable. This wife1 pleads my lord2 to help her,” Xiao Xuan has been sitting next to us in silence this whole time, but suddenly speaks up in Han.
1 妾 (qiè) is an archaic and deferential first-person pronoun that a Chinese woman used when speaking to her husband. I opted for “this wife” instead here.
2 相公 (xiànggong) is, like the pronoun above, an archaic form of address for one’s husband. I opted for “my lord” here.
“Xiao Xuan…” Pusysdeva looks at her with a sad smile, then proceeds to speak in Han.
“This wife has also tasted the pains of love and so understands the young miss’ feelings well. My lord, please help this poor couple1!”
1 The Chinese word here is 鴛鴦(yuānyāng), literal translation is a pair of mandarin ducks; yuān 鴛 and yāng 鴦 refer to a male and female mandarin duck, respectively. Mandarin ducks are believed to mate for life, so they are a symbol of wedded bliss and fidelity in traditional Chinese culture and often seen in weddings. (Source: Wiki) 鴛鴦 here refers to basically a lifelong couple.
“It’s not that I do not want to help, but how can I bring her with me? Lu Guang and his sons have seen her before. What should I do if her identity gets exposed?”
“This wife heard that the king will be bringing his concubines along to the temple, so it will not be strange for my lord to have someone with you as well. My lord can let Ai Qing-guniang dress up as me.”
Xiao Xuan pauses in thought for a moment and observes me carefully, before continuing with persuading her husband: “Ever since we married, this wife has rarely set foot outside, but everyone knows that this wife is a Han person. My lord can tell people that this wife has become ill and needs to wear a veil. Miss Ai Qing’s eyes are like mine, and so is her figure. If she disguises as this wife, nobody will suspect a thing. My lord is the State Preceptor, who would dare to lift my veil to confirm my identity?”
Brilliant! What a clever lady! I grab her hands in glee and say to her in my most sincere tone: “That’s great! Thank you, my lady!”
“Miss Ai Qing has a deep-rooted relationship with our family, so addressing me as ‘my lady’ sounds unnecessarily formal. Let us speak as sisters. This wife is older, so would the young miss mind me calling you as ‘meimei’?”
“Of course I don’t mind! Ai Qing is honoured to become sisters with a woman as intelligent and beautiful as my lady! However, I’m not certain who is older between us.” I quickly confess: “I am twenty-five years old!”
“Xiao Xuan, in terms of age, you have to call her jiejie. She is one year older than you,” Pusysdeva says with a laugh.
“But, but, she looks no more than eighteen, nineteen!” she says in admiration as she picks up my hands, graceful in her movements.
“She is full of surprises in many unexpected places.”
I signal Pusysdeva with my eye. He stops laughing and smiles gently at his wife, “It is already late. You should take Ai Qing to rest. Tomorrow, let’s prepare things so we can set off the next day.”
That night, I return to the same quarters as before. As I expected, everything is kept the same, even the pages of paper containing young Pusysdeva’s messy scrawls. Time has turned the paper yellow and the characters faded. I look at those pages, lost in nostalgia, when Xiao Xuan suddenly starts humming next to me. Even though it is slightly off-tune, the melody is definitely familiar. The song is “My Dearest Baby”!* Surprised, I turn to look at her.
* song by Wakin Chau, refer to Ch. 11
“My lord often sings this song to coax the children to sleep.”
She is smiling, her clear eyes looking at me directly, seeming to gauge my reaction.
“My lord once asked this wife whether there was such a lullaby [in Han], but this wife pled ignorance.”
It seems that this been a knot in her heart.
“Xiao Xuan, it was indeed me who sung this song, and both brothers have heard it.” I can sense her intentions, so it is better to be truthful: “It was so many years ago, so all it is now is only a faint memory. The most important is the present. Presently, you and the two children are his closest family and who he wants to protect the most.”
I gently take her hands and say earnestly: “I, too, have someone I want to protect the most. I lost my chance ten years ago, but now. Now, I won’t let go.” I look up at the dark sky outside, sorrow brimming in my heart, “Unless he doesn’t need me any longer…”
Xiao Xuan leaves with a look of relief. But of course, she should be happy.
I sit on the bed, lost in thought, for a long while. All the memories of this room come back and fill up my heart, little by little. The memories of those days are like vapour and in the blink of an eye, it has already been more than ten years. That little boy from back then, who every morning would sit bowl-legged next to my bed, waiting for me to wake up, is now a man with wrinkles on his forehead, calm and measured.
I suddenly recall their father’s words: Pusysdeva is flirtatious but also someone who takes responsibility for his every action, and though he may seem foolhardy and reckless as a youth now, time will pass and he will mature. As for Rajiva, he is far too clever and has never truly suffered in life. Thinks too much, but never shares any of it with anyone. That kind of personality will bring him misery later on.
I smile bitterly. Ten years later, Kumarayana’s worries have been confirmed.
Rajiva, how much do you suppress in your heart? What are you doing now? Are you perhaps also watching the starry sky and waiting for it to turn into dawn? When I left, I deliberately did not look at you, afraid that I will not be able to leave otherwise. I consoled myself with the thought that you only spoke those harsh words to drive me away. Even though you have never once said the word ‘love’ to me, I know that you have loved me since the moment you picked up the brush and drew portraits of me. You love me, not because I am a celestial being, or that I am a disciple of Buddha, but simply because I was the first and only woman who has ever entered your heart.
I sigh heavily and try to push all the worries in my heart outward. I can only use those reasons to desperately convince myself. Otherwise, what excuses would I have to follow him?
