No longer needing to attend lectures also means I don’t have to get up early. Now I just wake up whenever I want, do my hygiene routine, eat breakfast and head out onto the streets. Don’t be mistaken, it’s not a leisure walk but a field research. This two-thousand-year-old town may be small in area and population, but it is still the first ancient town I have set foot in. I might as well do a practice field research!
I set out with my backpack on my shoulders, containing all sorts of things like sketchbook, measuring tape, writing tools, small shovel and so on. My goals are to measure the walls, the thickness of the earth, note down the gate locations and sketch the palace exterior. I am in the midst of my work when a group of men suddenly appear behind me and point spears at my back. I quickly put my hands up in surrender and ask them to not kill me. My measuring tape falls down onto the ground and unrolls into a long line.
I get thrown into the prison designated for Han spies. I am dumbfounded. What kind of spy would walk around so blatantly like me? I try to use all the Kuchan words I’ve learned to explain that I am an acquaintance of the great monk Kumalajiba. That I met their king and queen yesterday, even attended the banquet in the palace. I beg them to find Kumalajiba. But after several hours went by with no one coming to bail me out, I resign to continuing my research in jail.
So when an anxious Kumalajiba shows up later, he is greeted with the sight of a girl immersed in her work despite the surroundings, busily measuring and sketching in her cell.
The sun has begun to set when the two of us exit the prison. He probably had just finished the afternoon mantra before hurrying over here to get me. The mere thought makes me feel guilty. He told the guards that I am his Han teacher, and all of a sudden, everyone appears very respectful towards me. For that brief moment, I became a fox who got to wear a tiger’s cloak [Viet idiom].
Like I predicted, when our evening lesson comes, Kumalajiba immediately asks what I did during the day to end in jail. Having prepared my answer, I reply smoothly, “You remember our talk about aspirations? I told you I want to write a historical record that will get passed down through generations to come. If I want the future generations to know about the glorious past of the Western Regions, I have to collect all the relevant information.” He listens to my rambling for a while, then promises me that he will try to explain to the king, but also tells me to be more careful.
I spend the next few days holed up in my room fixing my sketches and improving my Tocharian. But by the fifth day, I have had enough. I set out onto the streets but this time, heeding his words, I act more prudently. I observe everything carefully and return to my room afterwards to sketch. This is the only way I can conduct my research, unless I want to draw in jail again.
Ten days pass by like that. My sketches have accumulated considerably.
During one evening lesson, I notice that Kumalajiba appears more distracted than usual, seemingly lost in thoughts. When I ask him, he tells me that he has been challenged to a debate tomorrow. This makes him quite anxious. I ask what the topic is about and he says it will be announced on the day. I then ask who his opponent is, and he tells me it is a famous debater who has been unrivalled in the entire Western Regions. The man does not think there is anybody who can defeat him, and said that if such a person exists, he will cut off his own head in offer as an apology.
“Do you want to come [to see the debate]?” the little monk asks hesitantly, probably thinking about how badly I behaved in his first congregation.
I nod quickly, “Of course I want to go!”
Such an interesting contest with such a scary penalty like that, along with an arrogant prick, how could I possibly miss it? I quickly ask, “Do you know where bets are placed? What are the current odds? 5-5 or 4-6?”
But seeing his dark face, I cease my question.
In order to allow him time to mentally prepare for tomorrow, I end our lesson sooner than usual. Noticing his worried expression before leaving, I quickly call him back. Imitating the classic cheering I often see in Korean dramas, I lift up my right hand and shout, “AZA, AZA, FIGHTING!” [original Chinese text wrote like that]
He looks at me strangely. I giggle and shout happily, “That is the words from a peninsula in the north-eastern region. It means: Our little monk will definitely win!”
His mouth curves into a brilliant smile. All the worry in his eyebrows has lifted. Copying me, he also lifts his right hand up. The action is a bit clumsy but full of confidence, and his usual calm is finally restored. This is his first smile tonight. The glow of confidence from that brilliant smile lights up the entire room, basking me in its warmth.
I actually do not sleep in the next day. Instead, I wake up early in the morning and wait at the door.
[T/N: The rest of this chapter is about the debate, which is too philosophical for me to translate. While interesting, it is merely a recount of a factual event that doesn’t further the plot much. I decided to summarize it instead.]
The debate occurs in the main chamber (the same one used for the congregation). The king and queen are in attendance and are the only ones sitting besides the debaters. The chamber soon gets completely packed with people standing.
During these times, debates were a method used by religions to attract followers. In India, the debates often resulted in tragedies. The loser will tend to disappear afterwards. Some even cut their tongues or commit suicide. A lighter penalty would be to shut down their school and study under the winner instead. In contrast, thanks to that one debate, the winner’s reputation will spread far and wide, causing much reverence and attracting numerous followers. The king will treat the winner with respect and make him the grand master. It is thus easy to see how important this debate is for a young monk like Kumalajiba, and why someone usually so calm like him would get so nervous the night before. [This paragraph is straight from the novel.]
As expected, I cannot not understand a single word said in the debate, so I end up observing the audience and the debaters’ expressions instead. I can tell Kumalajiba is doing very well. He grows more passionate as the debate goes on. His body leans forward and his arguments seem to overpower the opponent, a non-Buddhist man in his forties. In contrast, his opponent grows more despondent by each second, no longer acting high and mighty. His voice gets smaller, and then with a pale face, he falls over and admits defeat.
Kumalajiba wins to the cheers of everyone, including the king and queen. The king rewards the little monk with numerous chests. He then sets out onto the streets atop an elephant and gets paraded by lots of flowers and praises. I am in awe myself. Our little monk is only thirteen, yet he was able to defeat someone more than 30 years his senior. I wonder how much more amazing will he become in the future?
Later in the evening, I ask him what the debate topic was. He tells me it was on śūnyatā. He took the emptiness position. [And then goes on to explain the debate to Ai Qing]. Even though his opponent promised to give his head if he loses, Kumalajiba has no use for it and instead forces the man to become his student and a follower of Buddhism.
[Ai Qing then engages in a mock debate with Kumalajiba over what it means to win or lose. She wins (which I think might just be because she blurts out a long argument with no pause in Han, making it hard for him to respond). The next day, Kumalajiba meets the other debater and exchanges a few words in a respectful manner. It is not clear what is said, but the man thanks the little monk profusely and quickly returns to his room, probably to pack up.]
No longer needing to attend lectures also means I don’t have to get up early. Now I just wake up whenever I want, do my hygiene routine, eat breakfast and head out onto the streets. Don’t be mistaken, it’s not a leisure walk but a field research. This two-thousand-year-old town may be small in area and population, but it is still the first ancient town I have set foot in. I might as well do a practice field research!
I set out with my backpack on my shoulders, containing all sorts of things like sketchbook, measuring tape, writing tools, small shovel and so on. My goals are to measure the walls, the thickness of the earth, note down the gate locations and sketch the palace exterior. I am in the midst of my work when a group of men suddenly appear behind me and point spears at my back. I quickly put my hands up in surrender and ask them to not kill me. My measuring tape falls down onto the ground and unrolls into a long line.
I get thrown into the prison designated for Han spies. I am dumbfounded. What kind of spy would walk around so blatantly like me? I try to use all the Kuchan words I’ve learned to explain that I am an acquaintance of the great monk Kumalajiba. That I met their king and queen yesterday, even attended the banquet in the palace. I beg them to find Kumalajiba. But after several hours went by with no one coming to bail me out, I resign to continuing my research in jail.
So when an anxious Kumalajiba shows up later, he is greeted with the sight of a girl immersed in her work despite the surroundings, busily measuring and sketching in her cell.
The sun has begun to set when the two of us exit the prison. He probably had just finished the afternoon mantra before hurrying over here to get me. The mere thought makes me feel guilty. He told the guards that I am his Han teacher, and all of a sudden, everyone appears very respectful towards me. For that brief moment, I became a fox who got to wear a tiger’s cloak [Viet idiom].
Like I predicted, when our evening lesson comes, Kumalajiba immediately asks what I did during the day to end in jail. Having prepared my answer, I reply smoothly, “You remember our talk about aspirations? I told you I want to write a historical record that will get passed down through generations to come. If I want the future generations to know about the glorious past of the Western Regions, I have to collect all the relevant information.” He listens to my rambling for a while, then promises me that he will try to explain to the king, but also tells me to be more careful.
I spend the next few days holed up in my room fixing my sketches and improving my Tocharian. But by the fifth day, I have had enough. I set out onto the streets but this time, heeding his words, I act more prudently. I observe everything carefully and return to my room afterwards to sketch. This is the only way I can conduct my research, unless I want to draw in jail again.
Ten days pass by like that. My sketches have accumulated considerably.
During one evening lesson, I notice that Kumalajiba appears more distracted than usual, seemingly lost in thoughts. When I ask him, he tells me that he has been challenged to a debate tomorrow. This makes him quite anxious. I ask what the topic is about and he says it will be announced on the day. I then ask who his opponent is, and he tells me it is a famous debater who has been unrivalled in the entire Western Regions. The man does not think there is anybody who can defeat him, and said that if such a person exists, he will cut off his own head in offer as an apology.
“Do you want to come [to see the debate]?” the little monk asks hesitantly, probably thinking about how badly I behaved in his first congregation.
I nod quickly, “Of course I want to go!”
Such an interesting contest with such a scary penalty like that, along with an arrogant prick, how could I possibly miss it? I quickly ask, “Do you know where bets are placed? What are the current odds? 5-5 or 4-6?”
But seeing his dark face, I cease my question.
In order to allow him time to mentally prepare for tomorrow, I end our lesson sooner than usual. Noticing his worried expression before leaving, I quickly call him back. Imitating the classic cheering I often see in Korean dramas, I lift up my right hand and shout, “AZA, AZA, FIGHTING!” [original Chinese text wrote like that]
He looks at me strangely. I giggle and shout happily, “That is the words from a peninsula in the north-eastern region. It means: Our little monk will definitely win!”
His mouth curves into a brilliant smile. All the worry in his eyebrows has lifted. Copying me, he also lifts his right hand up. The action is a bit clumsy but full of confidence, and his usual calm is finally restored. This is his first smile tonight. The glow of confidence from that brilliant smile lights up the entire room, basking me in its warmth.
I actually do not sleep in the next day. Instead, I wake up early in the morning and wait at the door.
[T/N: The rest of this chapter is about the debate, which is too philosophical for me to translate. While interesting, it is merely a recount of a factual event that doesn’t further the plot much. I decided to summarize it instead.]
The debate occurs in the main chamber (the same one used for the congregation). The king and queen are in attendance and are the only ones sitting besides the debaters. The chamber soon gets completely packed with people standing.
During these times, debates were a method used by religions to attract followers. In India, the debates often resulted in tragedies. The loser will tend to disappear afterwards. Some even cut their tongues or commit suicide. A lighter penalty would be to shut down their school and study under the winner instead. In contrast, thanks to that one debate, the winner’s reputation will spread far and wide, causing much reverence and attracting numerous followers. The king will treat the winner with respect and make him the grand master. It is thus easy to see how important this debate is for a young monk like Kumalajiba, and why someone usually so calm like him would get so nervous the night before. [This paragraph is straight from the novel.]
As expected, I cannot not understand a single word said in the debate, so I end up observing the audience and the debaters’ expressions instead. I can tell Kumalajiba is doing very well. He grows more passionate as the debate goes on. His body leans forward and his arguments seem to overpower the opponent, a non-Buddhist man in his forties. In contrast, his opponent grows more despondent by each second, no longer acting high and mighty. His voice gets smaller, and then with a pale face, he falls over and admits defeat.
Kumalajiba wins to the cheers of everyone, including the king and queen. The king rewards the little monk with numerous chests. He then sets out onto the streets atop an elephant and gets paraded by lots of flowers and praises. I am in awe myself. Our little monk is only thirteen, yet he was able to defeat someone more than 30 years his senior. I wonder how much more amazing will he become in the future?
Later in the evening, I ask him what the debate topic was. He tells me it was on śūnyatā. He took the emptiness position. [And then goes on to explain the debate to Ai Qing]. Even though his opponent promised to give his head if he loses, Kumalajiba has no use for it and instead forces the man to become his student and a follower of Buddhism.
[Ai Qing then engages in a mock debate with Kumalajiba over what it means to win or lose. She wins (which I think might just be because she blurts out a long argument with no pause in Han, making it hard for him to respond). The next day, Kumalajiba meets the other debater and exchanges a few words in a respectful manner. It is not clear what is said, but the man thanks the little monk profusely and quickly returns to his room, probably to pack up.]
