Yaoying followed Tanmarajiva.

Bisha was behind her.

It was a cold night last night, and the yard was covered with soft snow. The three of them walked across the snow, and there was a slight crunching sound under their feet.

Tanmarajiva walked calmly and not fast, but his posture was upright, his long legs took a step forward, his cassock fluttering, and in the blink of an eye he had walked some distance.

Yaoying hurried to catch up with him, but suddenly her feet felt heavy and she was nailed to the spot, unable to move.

She looked down and found that half of her boot was sunk into the snow.

The weather has warmed up recently, and the snow is not as solid as it was in the cold winter.

Yaoying tried to pull out her boots, but after several attempts, she still couldn't move them.

Bi Sao followed closely behind her. Seeing this, she couldn't help but laugh out loud. She walked forward, offered her hand to help her, and said with a smile, "Princess, don't worry. I'll help you..."

He stretched out his hand towards Yaoying, and caught a glimpse of a corner of a snow-white cassock flashing by out of the corner of his eye, and his smile froze slightly.

Yao Ying grabbed her boots and pulled them several times. Her body swayed slightly and she was a little unsteady. Two shadows came over her. She raised her head, reached out subconsciously, and gently grabbed the sleeve of one of them.

All three remained silent.

Bi Suo lowered her eyes and fixed her gaze on Yao Ying's slender fingers with a strange look in her eyes.

Yao Ying also looked at her own hands, feeling a little uneasy in her heart. She slowly raised her eyes and met Tanmarajiva's cold and indifferent gaze.

He stood in front of her, with a handsome face, a bright look, almost no expression on his face, and an extraordinary demeanor.

She didn't know what happened, but she grabbed his sleeve in a panic.

There were fine gold patterns on the cassock, and they tingled slightly when I traced them with my fingertips.

Yaoying came to her senses and smiled apologetically at Tanmarajiva. Just as she was about to loosen her fingers, he gently raised his arm, signaling her not to let go.

She understood, grabbed his sleeve tightly, and used the force to pull herself out of the snow.

"Like pulling bamboo shoots..."

Yaoying chuckled, let go of her hand, and brushed away the snowflakes on the edge of her boots.

Tanmarajika said nothing. After she stood firm, he turned and walked away.

Yao Ying followed him and saw Bi Suo beside him with a confused look on her face. She asked, "General, have you never seen bamboo shoots?"

Bi Suo smiled at her, shook his head, and said, "I haven't seen it. I often hear people say that Han land is vast and rich in resources. Han land has many things that we don't have here..."

He changed the subject, "Princess, you've been away from home for so long, you must be missing your hometown a lot, right?"

Yaoying felt melancholy when she thought of her hometown which was thousands of miles away from the royal court.

Bisha stared at Tanmarajika's back without blinking, and said in a higher voice: "I have made the princess sad, please don't be sad. The situation in Beirong is chaotic now, and the princess's relatives may have come to find you. I believe that in a short time, the princess will be able to return home and reunite with her family."

Yaoying nodded, "I would like to borrow the general's good words."

The three of them walked through the courtyard and up the stone steps. The guards lifted the felt curtain, and Tanmarajya walked in. He pointed to a rolled-up animal skin paper on the table and said, "Bisa, take this to the main camp."

Bisa suddenly raised his head and looked at Tanmaragha with a stiff expression on his face.

There was no need for him to make a personal trip for such a matter.

Tanmarajiva looked calm.

Bishuo didn't dare to say anything. He sighed secretly, responded in a deep voice, and left with the animal skin paper.

Tanmaraka looked at Yaoying and said, "Sit down."

Yao Ying looked down at the Persian carpet on the floor, hesitating about where to sit.

Tanmarajiva raised his eyes and glanced at the long table.

Yao Ying understood what he meant, walked over and sat down cross-legged.

The brazier in the corner was burning bright red, making a slight crackling sound, and the tent was warm as spring.

Tanmarajiva picked up a letter from the desk and handed it to Yaoying.

Yaoying took the letter and was slightly surprised to see the elegant Chinese characters on it. After opening it, a smile appeared on her face: "It's a letter from Master Monk Mondadeva."

After leaving the royal court, Mundadeva first went west, and after arriving in Kangguo, he went south, returning to India from Huoguo, Heshina, and Gandhara. The letter was written when he was in Huoguo, telling her about what he had seen and heard on the way and reporting his safety to her.

Yaoying finished reading the letter quickly.

"Munda Deva is fine. He also asked about the Master's health and reminded the Master to be careful when taking medicine and not to rely too much on the pills."

Tanmaraka nodded and said, "When Monda Deva was in the Kingdom of Life, he met the king of Virama and asked them to deliver a letter. The letter was brought by the Indian delegation. There was an Indian doctor who was proficient in pharmacology in the delegation. Monda Deva invited him to the royal court."

Yao Ying couldn't help but straighten up: "Is he here to treat the master? Monda Deva must have invited him here because he can heal the master!"

Tanmaraka lowered his eyes and looked at her.

Yao Ying knelt in front of the long table, facing his gaze, her face filled with surprise and anticipation, her eyes sparkling with water.

She seldom appears so happy.

And she was so happy at this moment, all for him.

Tanmaragha said nothing, flicking the beads with his fingers.

Yao Ying clapped her hands and said with a smile, "The mage's blessing is indeed effective."

Tanmaraka lifted his curtains and asked, "Pray for blessings?"

Yaoying looked at him, nodded, and said with a smile: "This morning in the main hall, the master was chanting sutras and praying for the people. I thought to myself that if the Buddha could really show up, the person who should be blessed the most should be the master. When the master pointed at me, I was thinking that it would be great if Monk Mundadeva could find a way to heal the master as soon as possible..."

"I didn't expect the Indian doctor to come."

Yaoying has curved eyebrows and a face as beautiful as Shunhua.

Tanmaraka looked at her, unmoved.

A few small noises came from the charcoal basin, filling the room with warmth.

He was silent for a while, then asked, "Princess, why don't you pray for blessings for yourself?"

Yao Ying smiled and said nonchalantly: "I didn't think of it at the time..."

As he spoke, his eyes fell on the gilded incense stick beside him.

"Next time the master prays for me, I will go to worship again."

She said casually, then remembered something and asked curiously, "By the way, when the master touched my head with the incense stick, what did he say?"

He recited scriptures mostly in Sanskrit or non-Buddhist languages ​​with elegant rhythms. Even though she didn't understand them, she was still fascinated by them.

Tanmaraka said: "Scriptures."

Yao Ying shook her head and laughed, and stopped asking.

Tanmarajiva sat quietly, and suddenly asked, "Princess, have you ever thought about entering Buddhism?"

Yao Ying shuddered, her eyes widened, and she shook her head repeatedly in shock, saying with a smile, "I am not as noble as the master. I cannot bear to give up the mundane world. I cannot give up greed, anger, and stupidity."

As she said this, she waved her hands towards him with a playful look on her face.

“Just reciting the scriptures every day gives me a headache.”

And she can't live without the smell of meat.

Tanmaraka remained silent, stroking the beads with his fingers.

This morning, Buddha was enshrined in front of the temple, and the scent of agarwood was thick. Pious believers crowded the hall, coming forward one after another to receive his blessings.

He had presided over such ceremonies many times. Men and women, old and young, the yellow-haired and the young, the Hu and the Han, all the faces were blurred in his eyes. There was no distinction between the rich and the poor.

However, the moment she suddenly appeared, he saw her delicate and bright face.

She walked towards him step by step, her clear eyes reflecting him, as if she, like the other believers, admired him, worshipped him, and was devout and respectful to him.

At that time, Tanmarajiva lowered his eyes and did not recite the usual prayer scriptures.

He read:

May you be free from illness and disaster.

May you be safe and happy.

May your wisdom grow and your troubles disappear.

May all your wishes come true and you return home soon.

Amidst the clouds and the snow on the mountains, you will return to your homeland, and never again will you wander in exile...

In this life, you will never set foot in the snowy land thousands of miles away, nor will you hesitate in this oasis in the desert again.

Tanmarajiva has blessed many people. All living things will eventually die, all things that come together will eventually separate, all things that prosper will eventually decline, all living things are in the cycle of suffering, without rest, and are often invaded by various kinds of suffering. People seek the protection of Buddhism in order to get rid of all kinds of suffering. When he taught the people and prayed for all living beings, what he had in mind was the various kinds of suffering that the people suffered in the troubled times.

When he was talking to Yaoying...he was thinking about her pain.

He wanted her to be safe and happy, and also wanted...

Tanmarajiva closed his eyes and held the jewel in his fingers.

At this time, there was a noise at the door, and the guard announced from outside the curtain: "King, the Indian doctor is here."

Tanmarajiva closed his eyes, loosened his grip on the beads, his expression had returned to being calm, and he hummed.

"Please send in the doctor."

The felt curtain swayed, and a middle-aged man with a long face, thin lips, light brown skin, light brown curly hair, and a white robe walked into the room. He saluted Tanmaragha, and his eyes paused on Yaoying who was sitting beside the long table, staring at her intently.

Tanmaraka said: "This is Princess Wen Zhao."

The Indian doctor saluted her.

Yaoying returned the greeting and turned her head to look at Tanmarajiva.

Tanmarajika glanced at the low-hanging brocade curtain inside and nodded.

Yao Ying originally wanted to leave, but seeing his expression seemed to want her to leave, and there was a hint of unquestionable meaning in it, she wondered why he didn't just let her go back, and stood up and retreated behind the brocade tent.

The brocade tent was lowered, blocking out the voices outside.

A charcoal brazier was also burning inside, and the curtains were drawn tightly, making it warmer than outside. In front of the couch where Yaoying had slept was the desk she had used, and the papers, books, and pen holder on it were still in the same condition as they had been since she had last used them.

She walked to the desk, picked up a book at random, flipped through it for a while, and found that the book with the signature was exactly where she saw it.

There were intermittent voices outside the tent, and Tanmarajiva and the monk switched to speaking Sanskrit.

Because of the layers of curtains between them, Yao Ying couldn't hear clearly and couldn't understand. She flipped through the book for a while, but felt bored, so she picked up a pen, spread out some paper, and sat down at her desk, writing with ink.

She was absorbed in painting, smearing with her hands, and she didn't know how much time had passed before she heard Tanmaragha's voice calling her from outside the tent.

"Princess Wen Zhao."

These four simple words, with clear tones and calm tone, sound like the collision of jades or the gurgling of a quiet spring.

Yaoying put down her pen and walked out of the room.

The Indian doctor had not left yet. He walked up to her, looked at her for a long time with a smile, then returned to the long table and whispered a few words in Sanskrit.

Tanmarajiva listened to him speaking, his eyes stayed on Yaoying, and he nodded.

The Indian doctor showed a look of joy on his face. He bowed without repeating the greetings and said a long string of words.

Yao Ying was a little confused.

Tanmaraka called Yuanjue and ordered him to send the princess back.

It seemed fate had decided to send Yaoying back to the courtyard.

When Yaoying disappeared into the depths of the corridor, Tanmo Luojia asked the Indian doctor, "How confident are you?"

The doctor thought for a moment and said, "Yesterday the king sent all the princess' prescriptions and pulse records to me. I and several doctors have read them in detail. I have served in the palace for many years and am good at this kind of symptoms. I am somewhat confident. I met the princess today. Although I dare not exaggerate, judging from her spirit, her illness is not difficult to treat. The princess is born with a deficiency. With proper care in recent years, she has improved a lot. She only needs to be treated and she will be healthy and free from pain. She will no longer have to suffer from the pain of taking medicine every month. As long as the king orders, I will do my best to treat the princess."

Tanmaraka's face was expressionless as he said, "I'll have to trouble the doctor in the future."

The Indian doctor said he dared not, and quietly looked up at him. He felt that he was as cold as ever, so he asked cautiously: "Princess Manda of our country has believed in Buddhism since she was a child. This time, Princess Manda is here to pay homage on the king's order. Can the king allow Princess Manda to come to the royal temple to worship Buddha and pray for the people of our country?"

Tanmarajika nodded.

The Indian doctor breathed a sigh of relief. He agreed to treat Princess Wen Zhao from the Han area in order to ask for an opportunity for Princess Manda to get closer to the royal temple.

Since Princess Manda came to the royal court, although the royal ceremonial officials were polite and showed no neglect to her, Tanmarajiva never showed up. The princess was beautiful and had excellent dancing skills. She was famous in India for her Heavenly Demon Dance, but she could not even see the Buddha's son, and her skills were not displayed at all.

With the permission of Tanmaragha, Princess Manda finally had the opportunity to dance for the Buddha.

The Indian doctor withdrew, his joy hard to conceal on his face.

Tanmaraka's voice came from behind: "Please keep this matter confidential and do not mention it to others."

The Indian doctor turned around quickly and said respectfully, "I'll remember this. This is about the princess's health. I will keep my mouth shut."

An hour later, Bisha returned to the meditation room from the camp: "King, the things have been delivered."

Tanmarajiva was writing at his desk and responded indifferently.

Bishuo retreated to the door.

There were a few clang sounds, and the eagle flew back to the meditation room, chirping non-stop. Yuanjue walked into the meditation room, added charcoal to the brazier in the corner, went into the back room to add food and water to the eagle, and saw a painting spread out on the desk. He exclaimed, picked up the painting, and brought it to Tanmarajiva's desk.

"King, this painting seems to have been dropped by the princess."

Yuanjue's face looked strange.

"Is this kind of painting technique popular in the Central Plains?"

Tanmarajika stopped writing and took the drawing paper.

On the light yellow drawing paper, a few bamboo poles and the outline of a man are outlined with simple black lines. The man is tall, wearing a cassock, with a string of Buddhist beads in his hand, and is pulling out a short and fat bamboo shoot.

This painting has simple lines and seems crude, but it is quite interesting. The painter must have been very satisfied with it, as he wrote a few words of artistic style next to it: "Buddha's Son Growing Bamboo Shoots".

It turns out that this is what she meant when she said it was like sucking bamboo shoots.

Let her back off and she drew this.

Tanmarajiva held the drawing paper in her hand and twitched the corner of her mouth slightly.

It is like a green lotus swaying gently beside the San Sheng Pond, causing ripples on the water surface.

It's fleeting and ephemeral.

Yuanjue widened his eyes in disbelief and turned back to look at Bishuo.

Like him, Bisha's eyes were wide open and she was also shocked.

The two did not dare to say a word. When they looked at Tanmaragha again, he had already put down the drawing paper. His expression was calm, without a trace of emotion.

The author has something to say: "The living will perish, the reunited will part..." This sentence quotes the original text of the relevant discussion in Buddhist scriptures

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Word count obsession is really hard...