Journey to the West 81 Cases: Chronicles of the Western Kings (Sifang Pavilion) - Chapter 16

Qu Zhisheng, after speaking, was about to let go of Ni Shu. Long Shuanyuezhi, terrified and panicked, shouted loudly, “Qu Zhisheng, I forbid you to die!”

“Shuanyuezhi, death is freedom.” Qu Zhisheng smiled and said, “Let me turn to ashes in front of you!”

“If you dare to die, I will jump,” Shuanyuezhi shouted back.

“You—” Qu Zhisheng was just about to let go, but upon hearing this, he froze in shock.

“If you dare to die, I will jump!” Long Shuanyuezhi repeated, enunciating each word clearly. “I forbid you to die!”

At this moment, Ni Shu really couldn’t hold on anymore. Struggling to open his mouth, he cursed, “Qu Zhisheng, I… I can’t hold on anymore!”

Qu Zhisheng was hesitating, but upon hearing this, he quickly flailed his legs in panic. Just as his feet kicked against a rock, Ni Shu’s hands finally slipped. As his body plummeted downward, Qu Zhisheng quickly braced his feet and, wrapping his arms around Ni Shu’s waist, pushed him upward. Ni Shu grabbed hold of the rock again with both hands, finally letting out a long breath. Glancing at the burning coal fields beneath them, he couldn’t help but feel a lingering fear.

“Come up!” Long Shuanyuezhi also breathed a sigh of relief.

“Amitabha,” Xuanzang couldn’t help but chant a Buddhist prayer.

Just as the situation was beginning to stabilize, a voice from behind rang out—Moheduo’s: “Huh? What the hell are you all doing? Hanging grapes or something? Ahaha! The King David’s Jar! Quick, quick, go grab it for me!”

It turned out that Moheduo had also reached the mountain peak. At this moment, Ni Shu and Qu Zhisheng were dangling from the cliff, Long Shuanyuezhi was halfway hanging off, Xuanzang was pulling on Long Shuanyuezhi, and Ashu was holding onto a belt. The King David’s Jar lay off to the side, abandoned. As soon as Moheduo saw the vase, he rushed over immediately.

Ashu glanced over and panicked, hurriedly wrapping the belt around Xuanzang’s arm. “Master, I have to protect the King David’s Jar!”

With that, he ran over and grabbed the vase. He wasn’t strong enough, so he pushed the vase over, rolling it towards the other side of the mountain cliff.

“Ashu—” Xuanzang turned his head to look, but he couldn’t move.

Ashu, still rolling the vase, shouted, “Master, forgive me, but I must bring the King David’s Jar back to the Tang Dynasty. This is my life’s mission!”

“To hell with that! Put down the vase!” Moheduo roared in fury, giving the command, “Shoot him! Shoot him dead!”

“Hold your fire!” Xuanzang shouted in alarm.

But Moheduo completely ignored him, waving his hand to order the archers to fire. His troops were all expert marksmen, and the moment they heard the command, they swiftly drew their bows and fired arrows straight at Ashu. Seeing the danger, Ashu quickly threw himself to the ground, but what he hadn’t anticipated was that he was on a slope, and he was still rolling the King David’s Jar. The vase was incredibly heavy, and as soon as he fell, the vase took him along with it, both of them rolling down towards the fiery furnace below.

Xuanzang was utterly horrified, watching as Ashu rolled down the side of the mountain slope, disappearing from sight in an instant. He couldn’t help but shout, “Ashu! Ashu!”

The sound of rolling continued to echo in his ears.

“Master,” Ashu’s voice came from the other side of the slope, “After I die, please be sure to bring the King David’s Jar to the Great Ta—”

Before he could finish speaking, there was a sudden thud, and then silence. Moheduo, leading his soldiers, rushed over. Xuanzang’s heart was consumed with anxiety, but at this moment, Qu Zhisheng, having given in to Long Shuanyuezhi’s threats, was climbing up together with Ni Shu. Long Shuanyuezhi had climbed up first and, along with Xuanzang, was pulling on the belt, but Xuanzang couldn’t move.

After a while, Ni Shu was the first to clamber up, his face covered in dust and ash. He was completely exhausted, with both hands badly scorched. As soon as he reached the top, he collapsed on the ground, panting heavily. Then, with combined efforts, Xuanzang and Long Shuanyuezhi managed to pull Qu Zhisheng up as well. Qu Zhisheng’s face was also covered in coal dust, but his spirits were still high. As soon as he reached the top, he grabbed Long Shuanyuezhi’s hand anxiously and asked, “Shuanyuezhi, you said earlier, if I die, you’ll die too… Does that mean… you love me?”

“Shut… shut up…” Ni Shu weakly cursed.

Seeing that they had all made it up safely, Xuanzang had no interest in getting involved in their conversation. He immediately dashed towards the other side of the slope. The slope led down to another burning coal field, with fierce flames raging below, though the incline was somewhat gentler. By now, Moheduo and his soldiers were already helping each other down the slope, and Xuanzang hurriedly followed after them.

“Ashu! Ashu!” Xuanzang ran and shouted as he descended. His face, hair, and clothes were covered in black coal dust, making him look extremely disheveled. He slid down the slope, shouting the whole way, but no one responded.

“Stop shouting!” Moheduo raised his face, filled with frustration. “You think anyone survives a fall like that? He’s dead, just dead, and he probably took my King David’s Jar with him to the grave! That little brat!”

Xuanzang was burning with anger but said nothing. The group continued to search as they descended the mountain. Although the slope was gentler, after descending twenty to thirty zhang (approximately 60 to 100 meters), they could already feel the scorching heatwaves. The intense heat was so fierce that it felt like their hair and clothes were about to catch fire. Yet Moheduo remained stubborn, continuing to search down the slope.

Just then, one of Moheduo’s soldiers shouted, “Dazhe! Look! The King David’s Jar!”

Both Moheduo and Xuanzang looked over, and there it was—the King David’s Jar, lying quietly on top of a rock. It seemed that during its descent, the vase had collided with the rock, which had stopped it from rolling further. However, Ashu was nowhere to be seen.

“Aha! My vase!” Moheduo exclaimed and rushed over excitedly.

Xuanzang, however, was still worried about Ashu. He continued shouting as he made his way further down, descending the steep slope towards the top of the coal field. By now, his clothes had begun to singe, and the soles of his shoes were scalding hot. Just as he reached the edge, he suddenly noticed something burning near a glowing red rock. He couldn’t get too close, but when he took a careful look, he froze in shock. The thing that was burning was clearly a piece of Ashu’s clothing!

“Ashu—!” Xuanzang suddenly burst into tears, his voice choked with emotion as he wept uncontrollably.

The place where Ashu’s burning clothes lay had become unreachable for any human. It seemed that during his fall, Ashu had been separated from the King David’s Jar—the vase had struck a rock and stopped, but Ashu had rolled directly into the burning coal field.

Xuanzang collapsed onto the slope, the scorching ground searing his body, but he seemed numb to the pain, as if in a daze. In that moment, memories of his time with Ashu flashed vividly before his eyes.

He remembered the foreign boy, journeying across the vast Silk Road, traveling all the way from Persia to the Western Regions.

He remembered how Ashu had survived when the caravan was annihilated, left all alone to wander the desert, fearfully hiding by a spring.

Ashu had said, “Master, can you take me home?”

He had said, “Master, I miss my father.”

He had said, “Master, the King David’s Jar is a mission my family entrusted to me. I must take it to the Tang Dynasty.”

He had said, “Master, I want to stand under the Persian sun again.”

In just two months of traveling together, this child, only eight or nine years old, had managed to evoke in Xuanzang feelings as deep as those of family. Ashu felt like Xuanzang’s own kin, his nephew, the one person who could share in his lonely journey west, offering mutual comfort and support.

But now, Ashu, along with his dream, had turned to ashes, lost forever.

As Xuanzang wept in anguish, Moheduo reached the spot where the King David’s Jar lay. He cast a triumphant glance back at Xuanzang and called out, “Master! He’s dead! Come back now, or you’ll meet your end as well!”

Xuanzang ignored him, but Moheduo, feeling annoyed by the lack of response, turned his attention to the vase. He tried to lift it, but to his surprise, he couldn’t budge it. Startled, he commanded his soldiers, “It’s damn heavy! Turns out it’s solid bronze. Come on, quickly, lift it for me!”

Two of Moheduo’s soldiers came over and, with their combined strength, hoisted the vase. With help from the others, they began to climb back up the mountain.

Seeing this, Xuanzang hurried to his feet and called out, “Dazhe!” (an honorific title for Moheduo)

“What is it?” Moheduo turned to ask.

“Please leave the vase!” Xuanzang’s expression was serious. “This is an artifact of Ashu’s family, not something that belongs to you.”

Moheduo laughed. “If it were mine, do you think I’d have gone through all this trouble? Master, Ashu’s family is dead—this sacred object is now without an owner. By taking it, I will fulfill the great ambitions of my Western Turkic Khaganate.”

“Dazhe,” Xuanzang said, climbing up the slope as he spoke, “you heard Ashu earlier. He entrusted this object to me, hoping I could deliver it to the Tang Dynasty. This vase was originally a gift from the Persian emperor to the emperor of the Tang. If you take it now, wouldn’t you be risking the enmity of two great empires? Dazhe, it would be unwise to make both Persia and the Tang your enemies over this ill-fated object.”

At this moment, Moheduo had climbed to the top of the mountain and, chuckling, said, “Master, you may be well-known in the Tang Dynasty, but you’re just a muddleheaded monk. We Western Turks have been at war with the Sassanid Persians for many years—we’ve long been enemies. As for the Tang Dynasty, they’re busy fighting the Eastern Turks, with Jieli and Tuli. Do you think Li Shimin dares to take me on? Hmph, now that I’ve got the King David’s Jar, once I summon the demon, if Li Shimin doesn’t come looking for me, I’ll go looking for him! Hahaha! Let’s go, let’s go. Master, why don’t you chant a few prayers for me? Wait, what’s that prayer called again?” Moheduo scratched his head in confusion, then waved off his soldiers, laughing as they headed off merrily.

Xuanzang looked back at the endlessly burning coal field and let out a long sigh. Then, using both hands and feet, he climbed up to the top of the mountain. Once there, he noticed that Qu Zhisheng, Long Shuanyuezhi, and Ni Shu had also left. It was unclear what had transpired between the three of them.

By the time Moheduo and his men had reached the bottom of the mountain, they had tied the King David’s Jar to his horse, and he personally rode off, the group spurring their horses and heading toward the valley.

“Dazhe!” Xuanzang quickly mounted his horse and gave chase.

Moheduo looked back, irritated, and muttered, “This monk is so annoying.”

“Dazhe, should I shoot him?” one of his soldiers asked.

Moheduo grew even more annoyed. “This monk is famous across the Western Regions. Do you want me to be known as a monk-killer? Let’s go, just ignore him.”

The group galloped swiftly along the treacherous mountain path. The snow-covered trail was slick and wet, but these Turkic riders were highly skilled horsemen, and their speed didn’t diminish in the slightest. Xuanzang, however, was terrible at riding and quickly fell behind. In no time, the two sides were separated, with Moheduo’s group vanishing beyond the Tian Shan gorge.

Beyond the Xinsheng Valley lay the trade route at the foot of the Flaming Mountains. Moheduo turned his horse westward, seemingly heading back toward the Western Turkic Khaganate. Xuanzang grew anxious. The road was now flat, so he spurred his horse faster, catching up quickly. The weight of the King David’s Jar on Moheduo’s horse had slowed his pace, and before long, Xuanzang had caught up to him.

Moheduo was deeply frustrated by this persistent monk. He couldn’t kill him, and chasing him off wasn’t working either, so he urged his horse forward. Just as they were racing along, a large caravan appeared ahead of them. The caravan was sizable, with more than a hundred people, all on horseback, and in the middle were over a dozen large carts. Moheduo squinted in suspicion. His heart sank as he noticed that the riders sat unnaturally straight on their horses. As their horses moved, the riders’ lower bodies bounced with the motion, but from the waist up, they were completely still.

What startled Moheduo even more was that, despite the sound of galloping hooves behind them, none of the riders turned around to look. It was as if they hadn’t noticed a thing, but Moheduo’s sharp eyes detected their guarded stance. Their arms hung low, their hands resting on pouches strapped to the sides of their horses—likely concealing weapons.

“Don’t provoke them. Circle around. Let’s go!” Moheduo whispered to his men.

Just as the Turkic soldiers were about to steer their horses around the caravan, a young man in the middle of the group casually raised his hand. The entire caravan split smoothly in two, forming a path for Moheduo and his men to pass through. Moheduo’s surprise deepened. The young man was positioned in the center of the caravan—how had his simple hand gesture conveyed an order to the riders at the very front of the group?

Moheduo’s heart was filled with suspicion. If these people were soldiers, they were likely among the most formidable forces in the Western Regions. Though there were only about a hundred of them, if they were fully armed, their strength would be comparable to that of an entire small nation’s army.

Although Moheduo was confident that his own Afli soldiers could put up a fight, he had left most of his troops behind. And with the valuable King David’s Jar in his possession, he dared not provoke these strangers. He kept quiet and sped down the road between them. As he passed the young man who had given the signal, Moheduo stole a glance. To his surprise, the man had the appearance of a Han Chinese. His complexion was slightly dark, and there was a sharp, cold edge to his refined demeanor—clearly an extraordinary person.

“Could this be a Tang Dynasty military force?” Moheduo’s heart skipped a beat as he pondered the possibility and sped away.

No sooner had he left than Xuanzang arrived on horseback. As he rode past the group, he caught sight of the young man and immediately froze in surprise, exclaiming, “Lord Wang?”

It turned out that this Han man was none other than Wang Xuance, the Chief Administrator of the Right Guard of the Tang Dynasty!

Wang Xuance was just as surprised to see Xuanzang. “Master, what brings you here? Why are you chasing after a group of Turkic Afli soldiers?”

“Hurry, Lord Wang! Please help me stop Moheduo!” Xuanzang urged breathlessly, not even pausing to explain.

Wang Xuance finally understood. “Oh, so that’s Moheduo? I was wondering why there were Afli soldiers here! Master, why are you pursuing them?”

“He stole the King David’s Jar!” Xuanzang said anxiously.

Wang Xuance was taken aback. “Really?”

“It’s in the bundle on his horse’s back!” Xuanzang added, his urgency growing.

To Xuanzang’s surprise, Wang Xuance chuckled. “Master, why are you in such a hurry? So what if he took it? We’re in Turkic territory—it wouldn’t be proper for me to rob one of their Dazhe lords here, would it?”

Xuanzang was left speechless. “But the King David’s Jar…”

“I’ve never heard of any such vase,” Wang Xuance replied with a smile. “Master, if it’s a vase you’re after, my caravan has plenty of jars and pots. I even have some tea that His Majesty sent as a gift for the Tujue leaders. If you’d like, I’ll give you a jar of that.”

Xuanzang suddenly calmed down, realizing that Moheduo had already gone too far to catch up. He knew that even if he could catch up, it would be pointless. Sighing in frustration, he silently regarded Wang Xuance, who returned his gaze with a smile.

“An old, skinny red horse with an iron saddle horn,” Xuanzang suddenly said.

Wang Xuance was startled. “Master—”

“I’m sure Lord Wang has heard this phrase before, no?” Xuanzang dismounted his horse and spoke softly.

Wang Xuance was momentarily speechless, but then he let out a bitter laugh. He too dismounted and called to his men, “Spread out the felt mats for sitting.”

The personal guards quickly brought down felt mats from the carts and spread them on the grassy roadside. Wang Xuance also ordered a small portable Hu-style couch to be set up, along with some food, and invited Xuanzang to sit. Xuanzang remained silent, seating himself across from Wang Xuance without a word.

The evening was settling over the desert, the long river reflecting the setting sun. The fiery glow of the Flaming Mountains cast a reddish hue on their faces, giving the scene a bloodstained tint, as if the landscape itself foreshadowed the weight of their conversation.

“Master, why did you say what you said earlier?” Wang Xuance asked.

“Because I feel as though I’ve been manipulated,” Xuanzang replied candidly. “Last autumn, in August, when I left Chang’an to embark on my journey westward, I met a fortune-teller named He Hongda in Chang’an. He cast a divination for me and said that during my pilgrimage, I would ride an old, skinny red horse with an iron saddle horn.”

“He Hongda is a renowned mystic in Chang’an. His divinations are said to be incredibly accurate. Did his prediction come true?” Wang Xuance inquired.

“Yes, it did,” Xuanzang said. “When I was trapped in Guazhou and unable to leave the borders, a foreigner named Shi Pantuo offered to help me. He introduced me to an elderly Hu man, who brought along an old, skinny red horse. He told me that the horse had traveled to and from Yiwu fifteen times and was familiar with the route. He was willing to give the horse to me as a gift. And indeed, the saddle of that red horse had an iron piece on the horn.”

Wang Xuance clapped his hands and laughed. “The He family’s divination skills certainly live up to their reputation.”

Xuanzang smiled slightly and continued, “Though I don’t know much about divination, I understand that it involves observing the heavenly signs, studying human affairs, and analyzing worldly changes to glean some sense of future events. Heavenly secrets are inscrutable, and the future is ever-changing, so accurate predictions are rare and astonishing. Yet no matter how remarkable the divination, I find it hard to believe that He Hongda could have seen something as specific as the iron on the saddle horn.”

“You are a wise man, Master,” Wang Xuance said with a note of respect. “You are devout to the teachings of Buddha, but not one to be deceived by illusions. This small trick of mine must have amused you.”

“So it was your doing?” Xuanzang asked.

Wang Xuance sighed. “Master, what I don’t understand is this: even if you suspected that someone was manipulating your journey westward, why did you suspect me of all people? After all, I’m merely a Right Guard official in the Tang military, with no connection to He Hongda or that elderly Hu man.”

Xuanzang’s expression grew reflective, as if recalling something distant. “Last year, while I was traveling through Chang’an, I took in an Indian man named Poluo Ye. His secret identity was that of a *bu liang ren* (spy or covert agent) working for the imperial court. He deliberately got close to me under orders from Wei Zheng, the head of the imperial secretariat, to accompany me and investigate the secrets of officials Cui Jue and Faya. From what I’ve learned, the *bu liang ren* network is an organization directly under the inner court, with its leader known as the ‘Thief Commander.’ Their primary duty is intelligence gathering, and in recent years, their focus has been on the Western Regions. Their agents are scattered across all walks of life, including Han Chinese, Hu people, Turks, Indians, and even Persians. Ever since I started my pilgrimage, I’ve had this persistent feeling of familiarity. He Hongda, the elderly Hu man—they all had different identities and behaved mysteriously. But their methods, their approach—it all felt too similar to Poluo Ye’s.”

“I see now,” Wang Xuance said with a nod. “So, you figured that if anyone was indeed controlling your journey to the west, and especially in this region, the only organization with the resources and reach to do so would be the *bu liang ren*.”

“Exactly,” Xuanzang replied with a nod.

Wang Xuance chuckled and leaned back slightly, gazing into the distance as he reflected on Xuanzang’s words. “Master, you’ve always been perceptive. It seems nothing can escape your insight.”

“Then why does the Master suspect me?” Wang Xuance asked.

“The Right Guard is one of the palace guard units responsible for protecting the Crown Prince’s residence, and the *changshi* (chief administrator) is the principal advisor to the Right Guard General, ranked as a fifth-grade official. I’ve always been curious,” Xuanzang began, speaking thoughtfully, “why His Majesty would send a military civil official like you on a diplomatic mission to the Western Turks, instead of a representative from the Ministry of Rites.”

Wang Xuance gave a bitter smile. “The Western Turks aren’t as well-versed in the Tang Dynasty’s bureaucratic system as you are, Master.”

“True, they don’t understand it,” Xuanzang agreed, “but His Majesty does. Given that, there must be a reason for you, a military *changshi*, to be sent to the Western Turks. Last time I visited your residence, I saw you gathering intelligence and drafting maps. That’s when I understood. Your true mission, like the *bu liang ren* (spies), is simply to collect intelligence on the Western Regions. And knowing Minister Wei Zheng’s sharpness, there’s no way he would send someone who has nothing to do with the *bu liang ren* on such a mission—unless your position is special.”

“Brilliant!” Wang Xuance applauded. “Master, you are indeed brilliant! Now that we’ve come this far, there’s no point in hiding it. Yes, I am the leader of the *bu liang ren*, the *Zeishuai* (Thief Commander)!”

Xuanzang was taken aback. Although he had suspected Wang Xuance was connected to the *bu liang ren*, he never imagined that he was the *Zeishuai* himself! With a wry smile, Xuanzang remarked, “I thought the *Zeishuai* would be a high-ranking official like Minister Wei Zheng. I didn’t expect it would be someone as modest as a fifth-grade *changshi*.”

“Haha!” Wang Xuance laughed heartily. “Master, you don’t understand. The *bu liang ren* is a secret organization tasked with investigation, assassination, infiltration, and intelligence gathering. Its power is immense, and too difficult to control. Used properly, it’s the empire’s sharpest blade; misused, it could become a deadly cancer. If the *Zeishuai* were a high-ranking official like the Secretary Supervisor or a minister, who could possibly keep it in check? That’s why, although I have great power at my disposal, my official rank remains low. This was one of the principles Wei Zheng established when he created the *bu liang ren*.”

“Oh, I see now.” Xuanzang nodded in sudden understanding. Though he wasn’t deeply versed in political matters, the logic of such a system made sense to him. After a pause, he asked, “Then… may I ask, why were you manipulating my journey to the west?”

“Now that we’ve come this far, what else do I have to hide?” Wang Xuance sighed. “But remember, Master, everything I say from this point forward—consider it your own deductions.”

Xuanzang smiled and nodded in agreement.

Wang Xuance thought for a moment. “This is a complicated matter. Since you seem well-informed about the King David’s Jar, perhaps it’s best to start there. Master, are you aware that the King David’s Jar is the national treasure of the Sassanid Persian Empire, passed down through the hands of Persian emperors for over four hundred years?”

“King Gaochang once told me as much,” Xuanzang confirmed with a nod.

“But did you know,” Wang Xuance continued in a soft voice, “that the reason the King David’s Jar came to the Western Regions was because the Persian emperor intended to present it as a gift to our emperor, His Majesty of the Tang Dynasty?”

Wang Xuance waited, expecting to see a look of shock on Xuanzang’s face. But to his surprise, Xuanzang remained calm and simply nodded, saying, “I know.”

Wang Xuance raised an eyebrow. “You already know?”

“Yes,” Xuanzang replied. “Before I left Gaochang, King Qu Wentai confided in me that the King David’s Jar was originally meant to be sent as a gift to Emperor Taizong of Tang. However, the turmoil in the Western Regions, as well as conflicts between the Persian Empire and the Western Turks, caused the vase to be held up here. When Moheduo stole the vase, I suspected that its original purpose was tied to diplomatic relations between Persia and the Tang.”

Wang Xuance sighed. “You truly are extraordinary, Master. Since you’ve already pieced this much together, let me explain the rest.”

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as if discussing a great secret. “As you already know, the King David’s Jar holds immense symbolic significance for the Sassanid Empire. In the hands of the Tang Dynasty, it could serve as a powerful diplomatic tool to solidify our influence in the Western Regions. However, the Western Turks intercepted the vase, intending to use it for their own ambitions—either as leverage against the Persians or as a means to gain favor with rival powers. My mission was to ensure that the vase reached the Tang court safely, but without provoking open conflict.”

“And my journey was manipulated because…” Xuanzang prompted, his curiosity piqued.

Wang Xuance nodded. “Because of the strategic importance of your pilgrimage. You, Master, are not just a monk traveling to seek scriptures; you’re a symbol of Tang cultural and spiritual power. If the King David’s Jar had fallen into the wrong hands, it could have disrupted the balance of power in the Western Regions. By keeping an eye on you and ensuring your safe passage, I could monitor the movements of rival forces like the Western Turks, and at the same time, protect our broader diplomatic interests.”

Xuanzang was silent for a moment, absorbing Wang Xuance’s words. The weight of his pilgrimage, and the forces converging around him, suddenly became much clearer.

“So, in the end, my journey was about more than just seeking the Dharma. It was part of a larger game, one that involved the fate of empires,” Xuanzang said, more to himself than to Wang Xuance.

“Indeed,” Wang Xuance said quietly. “And now that the King David’s Jar is once again in play, it’s more important than ever for us to act carefully. Moheduo may have the vase for now, but that doesn’t mean the game is over.”

“You already know?” Wang Xuance was taken aback.

“Yes,” Xuanzang replied, a hint of sorrow in his voice. “Before Ashu died, he told me that his uncle, Yazdegerd, was the envoy sent by the Persian Emperor to escort the King David’s Jar.”

Wang Xuance looked at him with admiration. “Master, you truly have eyes and ears everywhere, to have even uncovered such classified information. Well then, there’s no point in me hiding anything further. That’s correct. Last year, the Persian Emperor Khosrow II sent envoys to Chang’an, pleading with our emperor to send troops to attack the Western Turks.”

“Attack the Western Turks?” Xuanzang asked, puzzled. “Why would the Persian Emperor go to such lengths, sending people across such vast distances to ask His Majesty to wage war on the Western Turks?”

“Ah, it’s like this,” Wang Xuance began to explain. “In today’s world, there are several great powers. To the far east is our Tang Empire. After the fall of the Sui Dynasty, the Turkic Khaganate split into two—East and West. The Western Turks control the entire Western Regions and much of the Silk Road. Beyond the Western Regions lies the powerful Sassanid Persian Empire and the Byzantine Empire. The relations between these three great powers are complex and fraught with conflict. Persia and Byzantium are sworn enemies. Their conflict has lasted over four hundred years, with periods of both war and uneasy peace. Around twenty-five years ago, Khosrow II launched an invasion against Byzantium and was nearly victorious. That war lasted almost two decades and nearly resulted in the destruction of Byzantium. But then, the Byzantine Emperor Heraclius emerged—a brilliant military leader. He secretly struck a deal with the Western Turks, and they launched a joint east-west attack on Persia. The result was a catastrophic defeat for the Persians. Last spring, Heraclius even reached the Persian capital, Ctesiphon. The entire Sassanid Empire is now on the verge of collapse.”

“Oh,” Xuanzang nodded, listening intently. Having spent most of his life immersed in Buddhist teachings and meditations, this discussion of global power struggles was a revelation for him, opening his eyes to a broader world. “I understand now. Khosrow II wanted the Tang Dynasty to attack the Western Turks to relieve his urgent crisis.”

“Exactly,” Wang Xuance nodded. “Persia, by itself, was powerful enough to hold off Byzantium, but with Byzantium and the Western Turks allied against them, Persia stood no chance.”

“What was His Majesty’s response?” Xuanzang asked.

“Naturally, His Majesty refused,” Wang Xuance said. “At the time, the Emperor was preparing for a campaign against the Eastern Turks. He planned to use the full might of the Tang Empire to completely destroy the Eastern Turks and eliminate that longstanding threat to our nation. The last thing he wanted was to antagonize the Western Turks. On the contrary, he sought to improve relations with them.”

“But…” Xuanzang hesitated. “Khosrow II seems like a formidable ruler. He wouldn’t have expected the Tang Dynasty to join a war just based on a simple plea for help, would he?”

“Of course not,” Wang Xuance replied, his expression turning serious. “After His Majesty declined, the Persian envoy mentioned the King David’s Jar, describing its miraculous powers. The envoy claimed that whoever possessed the vase would be granted three wishes, capable of making anything possible. He promised that if the Tang Empire agreed to send troops, Khosrow II would gift the King David’s Jar to our Emperor.”

“So that’s the story!” Xuanzang finally understood the backstory of the King David’s Jar. “And how did His Majesty respond to that?”

“His Majesty was intrigued, naturally,” Wang Xuance said with a wry smile. “But our emperor is a man of great wisdom. He wasn’t about to alter the Tang Empire’s entire foreign policy just for some artifact, no matter how fantastical the claims.”

“That sounds like our emperor,” Xuanzang nodded, though a hint of doubt still lingered. “But if His Majesty refused, how did the King David’s Jar end up being sent here?”

“That,” Wang Xuance said, his tone growing more serious, “is where the story takes a darker turn.”

He paused for a moment, organizing his thoughts before continuing. “Even though His Majesty rejected the idea of sending troops, the Persian envoy still left the King David’s Jar in the Western Regions. Why? Because Khosrow II, facing the collapse of his empire, saw the vase as his last hope. He believed that if he couldn’t convince the Tang Dynasty to intervene directly, then perhaps someone in the Western Regions—whether the Western Turks or some other power—could be tempted by the vase’s supposed powers. It became a bargaining chip, a piece of leverage that could shift alliances or provoke conflict. And that’s why Moheduo was so eager to get his hands on it.”

Xuanzang’s eyes widened as the full implications sank in. “So the vase wasn’t just a gift—it was a tool of manipulation, meant to incite war or power struggles?”

“Precisely,” Wang Xuance nodded. “The vase was never intended to simply be a gift. It was a means to influence the balance of power in the Western Regions. And for the Tang Dynasty, that’s exactly why it’s so dangerous. If the wrong hands use it as a bargaining chip, it could destabilize the entire region, threatening not just the Western Turks but our own interests as well.”

“So that’s why you’ve been keeping an eye on me and my journey,” Xuanzang said, piecing together the final threads. “You wanted to ensure that the vase didn’t end up in the wrong hands, or worse, provoke a war that the Tang Dynasty wasn’t ready for.”

“Exactly,” Wang Xuance confirmed. “You were traveling through critical territories, Master, places where political tensions are already high. Your pilgrimage put you right in the middle of a game of empires. By staying close to you, I could monitor the situation, keep tabs on Moheduo, and make sure the vase didn’t lead to disaster.”

“Because…” Wang Xuance sighed, “the Persian envoy proposed sending the King David’s Jar to Chang’an first. He said that His Majesty could witness its magical powers firsthand, and then make a decision. If, after seeing the vase, His Majesty still refused to send troops, the Persians would gift the vase to him free of charge.”

Xuanzang was stunned. “That Persian envoy had such confidence?”

“Absolute confidence,” Wang Xuance replied. “To him, it seemed that as long as the King David’s Jar reached Chang’an, it would inevitably persuade His Majesty to intervene in the war against the Western Turks.”

“That’s impossible,” Xuanzang said, deeply shocked. “What did His Majesty say?”

“Naturally, His Majesty was intrigued,” Wang Xuance said with a bitter smile. “Who wouldn’t be? The King David’s Jar, with its rumored ability to grant three wishes—imagine the temptation. Just think, if His Majesty could wish for eternal life, Master, how could anyone resist such a lure? So, His Majesty agreed. He told the Persian envoy to bring the vase to Chang’an, and this caused an uproar at court.”

“An uproar?” Xuanzang asked, surprised. “What kind of uproar?”

“The senior ministers, like Chancellor Changsun Wuji, Grand Secretary Fang Xuanling, and Minister of Personnel Du Ruhui, are all deeply rooted in Confucian values,” Wang Xuance explained. “They abhor superstition and mysticism. To them, bringing such an object to tempt the Emperor was an insult to the Tang court. Wei Zheng, my direct superior, though he once practiced Daoism in his youth, is also a staunch Confucian at heart. He repeatedly petitioned the Emperor, urging him to reject the King David’s Jar. But His Majesty wouldn’t budge, and there were even rumors that he broke dishes in front of Empress Zhangsun in frustration.”

Wang Xuance sighed, clearly troubled by the memory. “That’s when these ministers secretly conspired and came up with a daring plan—to intercept the King David’s Jar before it could enter the empire.”

“What?” Xuanzang was shocked. Since the start of the *Zhenguan* reign, Emperor Taizong (Li Shimin) had governed with an open mind, welcoming advice from his ministers. He had a famously harmonious relationship with them, especially Wei Zheng, who was known for his candid criticisms of the Emperor. Li Shimin had never punished Wei Zheng, despite his constant admonitions. However, an emperor is still an emperor, and every ruler has their limits. For the top officials of the court to secretly plot against the emperor’s will was an extremely risky move—one that could spell ruin if discovered. Wei Zheng and the others must have been deeply fearful of the vase to risk their careers and futures.

Calming himself, Xuanzang asked, “How did they plan to intercept the vase?”

Wang Xuance gave a wry smile. “Master, who could be better suited for the task than me? Since Wei Zheng oversees the *bu liang ren* organization, his plan was to send me on a diplomatic mission to the Western Turks, under the guise of official business, to secretly investigate the route the vase was taking and find a way to ensure it never reaches Tang territory.”

“I see!” Xuanzang exclaimed, finally understanding.

“Before I left,” Wang Xuance continued, “Minister Wei repeatedly reminded me not to reveal my identity under any circumstances. I had to keep everything secret, and I absolutely could not resort to violence. Killing the Persian envoy would have tarnished the image of the Tang Empire and violated diplomatic protocols. But, Master, can you imagine how difficult this was? I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t do that, and I was in the Western Regions, a place still under Western Turkic control! What could I possibly do?” Wang Xuance lamented, shaking his head.

Xuanzang thought for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I understand your dilemma. You had to act with utmost caution, balancing secrecy and diplomacy, all while trying to stop the vase from reaching Chang’an. No wonder you’ve been so discreet this entire time.”

Wang Xuance nodded, his frustration evident. “Exactly. The Western Turks are still the dominant force in this region, and while the Tang Dynasty has influence here, I couldn’t afford to provoke an international incident. If word got out that a Tang envoy was sabotaging Persian diplomatic gifts, it could severely damage our empire’s reputation.”

“And yet, Moheduo stole the vase before you could intervene,” Xuanzang said, connecting the dots.

“Yes,” Wang Xuance admitted. “Moheduo caught wind of the vase and its supposed powers, and he wanted it for himself. The vase became a pawn in the political games of the Western Regions. Once he got hold of it, my mission became even more complicated. If the vase ended up in the hands of someone who could use it to manipulate alliances or incite conflict, it could destabilize the entire region.”

Xuanzang sat quietly, digesting the complex web of intrigue and power struggles. His simple pilgrimage to retrieve sacred Buddhist texts had become intertwined with the geopolitical machinations of empires. What began as a spiritual journey now felt like a precarious walk along the razor’s edge of international diplomacy.

“So,” Xuanzang finally said, “the vase isn’t just a treasure. It’s a tool of manipulation, capable of shifting the balance of power across the Western Regions.”

“Exactly,” Wang Xuance said gravely. “It’s far more dangerous than it appears. The legends surrounding it may be fantastical, but its potential to provoke ambition and conflict is very real.” He looked Xuanzang in the eye and added, “And that’s why, Master, your journey west was far more important than you realized. We had to make sure the vase didn’t fall into the wrong hands—and now, we’re all caught in this game.”

Xuanzang could understand the precarious position Wang Xuance was in. After all, the matter of the King David’s Jar was incredibly significant—not only did it involve the fates of many high-ranking officials within the Tang Dynasty, but it also affected diplomatic relations between the Tang and the Western Turks. Nearly every action Wang Xuance took had the potential to reshape the balance of power across the entire world.

“And then, Master,” Wang Xuance said with a smile, “your appearance gave Minister Wei Zheng an idea.”

Xuanzang was taken aback. “My appearance gave Minister Wei Zheng a plan?”

“Indeed!” Wang Xuance laughed. “Master, do you remember when you returned from Huoyi and submitted a petition to the court, requesting permission to leave the borders and embark on a pilgrimage to India?”

“I remember,” Xuanzang said with a wry smile. “It was because my petition was rejected by His Majesty that I had no choice but to leave the country secretly.”

“That was because His Majesty cared for you,” Wang Xuance explained. “The journey west is perilous beyond imagination—spanning tens of thousands of miles. For hundreds of years, countless monks have set out to India to seek the Dharma, but how many have ever returned? His Majesty was worried something would happen to you along the way!”

Xuanzang sighed deeply, feeling immense gratitude for Li Shimin’s concern. He understood the Emperor’s care, but the pilgrimage to India was his lifelong ambition. How could he possibly abandon it?

“Master, your connection to this matter lies in the fact that although His Majesty rejected your petition, Minister Wei Zheng, upon hearing of it, decided to secretly aid your departure,” Wang Xuance said.

Xuanzang was utterly shocked. “What?!”

Wang Xuance chuckled. “Master, remember how you said you felt like you were being manipulated? That fortune-telling you received from He Hongda in the marketplace of Chang’an—that was all meticulously arranged by Minister Wei Zheng!”

“So that’s how it is!” Xuanzang exclaimed, the realization finally dawning on him. “But… how does that relate to your plan to intercept the King David’s Jar? Why would Minister Wei Zheng secretly help me leave the country?”

“Master, think about it,” Wang Xuance said with a knowing smile. “The Western Regions are filled with chaos and strange powers, and here comes a ‘Son of Buddha’ traveling from the east. What do you think would happen when these two forces meet?”

Xuanzang was still puzzled, so Wang Xuance continued, “Minister Wei Zheng’s plan was to stir up the entire Western Regions by letting the existence of the King David’s Jar become widely known. The chaos it would cause would shake the region to its core. Then, you, as the Son of Buddha, would naturally be drawn into this conflict. The people of the Western Regions would expect nothing less than a clash between you and the King David’s Jar. And as for me, I would stay hidden in the background, uncovering the secrets of the vase and finding out what the Persians were really plotting.”

“So I was supposed to play the role of the one who tames the demon,” Xuanzang said, feeling a bit exasperated. He had always been uncomfortable with the idea that monks were expected to subdue demons or engage in such supernatural affairs. Yet, he couldn’t help but admire Wei Zheng’s strategic brilliance. They had already crossed paths back in Huoyi, where Wei Zheng had secretly maneuvered events around Xuanzang, and now, once again, he found himself unwittingly caught in another one of Wei Zheng’s intricate plots.

Wang Xuance burst into laughter. “Once the plan was in place, I left Chang’an in secret and followed you closely on your journey. Do you remember what happened in Guazhou, when Governor Li Daliang issued a warrant for your arrest?”

“Yes!” Xuanzang replied. “It was a local clerk named Li Chang who tore up the arrest warrant and urged me to leave the country as soon as possible.”

“Li Chang was one of my men,” Wang Xuance said with a grin.

Xuanzang could only shake his head, offering a wry smile. “Of course he was.”

The pieces were falling into place. Xuanzang now realized that his entire journey westward had been carefully monitored and manipulated. Every step of the way, figures had been placed in key positions to ensure his journey continued, while also keeping an eye on larger geopolitical forces in the region.

“So even from the beginning, my departure was part of your grand scheme,” Xuanzang mused, still somewhat incredulous.

“Master, don’t take it personally,” Wang Xuance said, a playful glint in his eye. “You see, sometimes even those with the noblest of intentions—like yourself—can become part of something much larger. And believe me, this plan had nothing to do with doubting your intentions. We simply saw an opportunity to align your pilgrimage with the political goals of the Tang Dynasty.”

Xuanzang sighed. He had embarked on his journey with the purest of intentions, but now, he saw that even his quest for spiritual enlightenment had been interwoven with the political ambitions of empires. But what could he do? The world of men, fraught with power struggles and intrigue, had found a way to intrude even on a monk’s sacred mission.

“Master,” Wang Xuance said, softening his tone, “even though you’ve been caught in this web of intrigue, your purpose remains unchanged. Your journey to seek the Dharma is still your own. We simply had to ensure that the chaos of the Western Regions didn’t hinder you—or worse, engulf the Tang Dynasty in unnecessary conflict.”

Xuanzang nodded, slowly coming to terms with the reality of the situation. “I understand, Lord Wang. The world is complex, and even those of us seeking simple truths can’t entirely escape its entanglements.”

“Precisely,” Wang Xuance said with a respectful bow of his head. “But rest assured, Master, your path is still your own. We were merely… assisting from the shadows.”

With that, Xuanzang couldn’t help but smile. It seemed that, despite everything, his journey was far from ordinary—and the world around him, even more so.

Wang Xuance continued with a smile, “That Hu man who gave you the red horse—he was one of my bu liang ren. At the time, I originally intended for him to take you to Yiwu, but you ended up finding your own guide, that Hu man named Shi Pantuo, to lead you instead. I had no choice but to have the old man give you the red horse so we wouldn’t ruin He Hongda’s divination. We had to make sure those eight words—‘old, skinny red horse, with an iron saddle horn’—came true!” Wang Xuance laughed. “Then, I waited for you in Yiwu, but after several days, you still hadn’t arrived.”

“I got lost in the Moheyan Desert,” Xuanzang said with a sigh. “On the second day after entering the desert, I accidentally spilled all the drinking water. I went four nights and five days without a single drop of water, nearly dying in the sands.”

Wang Xuance was stunned, and after thinking about it, he shuddered with fear. “Amitabha, may the gods and Buddha protect us. I didn’t account for such an accident. If anything had happened to you, Master, Minister Wei would have had my head!”

Wang Xuance then began to recount his actions in greater detail. After discovering that the Persian envoy disguised as a merchant was traveling with the Yanqi envoy, he leaked the information about the Yanqi delegation’s request to alter the Silk Road route to Qu Wentai, the King of Gaochang. As expected, Qu Wentai sent Qu Deyong and Qu Zhisheng to intercept and kill the Yanqi people.

According to his original plan, Wang Xuance didn’t intend for the Persian envoy to die. He had planned to reveal the King David’s Jar publicly in Yiwu, causing a conflict between the Yanqi and Gaochang people, and then arranging for Xuanzang to intervene and uncover the true nature of the vase. However, when Xuanzang got lost in the desert and didn’t arrive in time, the Persian envoy continued on his journey. Once they crossed the Moheyan Desert, they would have entered Tang territory. Left with no other choice, Wang Xuance pushed Qu Deyong to act and have the Yanqi envoy killed.

The rest of the story, Xuanzang already knew: Qu Zhisheng obtained the King David’s Jar, made a wish, and Long Shuanyuezhi took advantage of the situation, almost leading to the destruction of Gaochang.

After listening to Wang Xuance’s account, Xuanzang was silent for a long time. By now, it was dusk, and the setting sun cast a fiery glow over the Flaming Mountains, reflecting a molten red light across the desert. The blood-red hue illuminated Wang Xuance’s face, adding an almost ominous tint to the scene.

“Great powers play their games, treating human lives like grass,” Xuanzang finally said, his voice slow and heavy.

Wang Xuance defended himself, saying, “Compared to the mass slaughter of wars, where cities are razed and people are killed by the thousands, my hands may be stained with blood, but I had no choice. Master, consider this: if the King David’s Jar were to reach Chang’an and tempt the Emperor, how many lives would be lost if His Majesty were swayed into sending troops against the Western Turks? How many widows and orphans would cry out into the night, awaiting news from battlefields thousands of miles away?”

Xuanzang said nothing. He had lived through the chaos at the end of the Sui Dynasty, and the brutal scenes of destruction still haunted him. While he deeply disliked Wang Xuance’s ruthless tactics, he also couldn’t bring himself to refute his logic.

“Lord Wang,” Xuanzang asked after a moment, “the King David’s Jar has now been taken by Moheduo. Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Why would I stop him?” Wang Xuance countered with a question. “Master, haven’t you realized? The King David’s Jar is a cursed object, a demonic thing. Wherever it goes, disaster follows. If it can sow chaos within the Western Turks, it would benefit the Tang Dynasty greatly.”

Xuanzang frowned. “But should the people of the Western Turks suffer such misfortune just for the sake of the Tang Dynasty?”

“And should the people of the Tang Dynasty suffer it instead?” Wang Xuance replied coldly. “Master, have you forgotten the likes of Xue Ju, Dou Jiande, Wang Shichong, and Liu Wuzhou? During the chaos at the end of the Sui Dynasty, the Western Turks fanned the flames and supported these warlords. Were it not for the Turks stirring up trouble behind the scenes, would our Central Plains have descended into seventeen years of civil war, leaving nine out of ten households empty and no sound of a rooster crowing for miles? If we want the people of the Tang to live in peace and prosperity, free from the ravages of war, the only way is to make ourselves stronger and our enemies weaker!”

Xuanzang, not wishing to continue the argument, rose to his feet and pressed his hands together in a gesture of respect. “If that’s how it is, then I shall continue on the path of the Buddha, while you, Lord Wang, go and watch the fireworks in the Western Turkic lands.”

“Where are you going, Master?” Wang Xuance called out, following after him.

“To Gaochang,” Xuanzang replied as he brought his horse forward and mounted it.

“Master,” Wang Xuance grabbed the reins of Xuanzang’s horse, trying to stop him. “The crisis in Gaochang has already been resolved. There’s no need for you to go back. Why not continue westward? You still need the approval of the Western Turkic Khaganate to pass through their territory. I’m heading to see Tongyehu Khagan myself. We could travel together—it’d be safer that way.”

“Thank you, Lord Wang,” Xuanzang said, shaking his head. “But I must stay in Gaochang for a while longer. I have an uneasy feeling in my heart. The troubles caused by the King David’s Jar in Gaochang may have only just begun. King Qu Wentai has treated me with such generosity, and at this critical moment, how can I leave him? Farewell, Lord Wang.”

With that, Xuanzang spurred his horse and galloped swiftly in the direction of Gaochang’s royal city.

Wang Xuance stood there for a long time, watching Xuanzang’s silhouette disappear into the horizon. Only after a long pause did he speak, saying to his men, “Form up. We’re heading to the Western Turkic Khaganate.”