Chapter 108: Xingxiang Festival
The Xingxiang Festival started at dawn with the sweeping of the roads, the setting up of draperies on the gates and gate towers, and the new decorations all around the city.
The exquisite Buddhist statues were placed on twenty giant four-wheeled carts, raised three or four feet high, and paraded around the main streets of the city. Each of the four-wheeled vehicles was beautiful; decorated with gold, silver, lapis lazuli, crystal, tridacna, scarlet pearls, and carnelian. Hung with curtains, covered in damask silk, each carriage was like a miniature portable palace. The Buddha statues were carved from gold and silver, with jade and pearl necklaces draped over their chests, slender and elegant, their postures solemn.
The people of the city came out. Men and women, young and old, no matter their identity, all changed into new clothes, cheering and following the huge carriages to the city gates, chanting the Buddha’s name.
When Bisha took Yaoying out of the royal palace, the main street was swarming with people.
Xie Qing and Xie Chong frowned tightly. Afraid of being separated by the crowd, they followed closely by Yaoying.
Ashina Bisha explained every tradition to Yaoying along the way, thoughtful, patient, and enthusiastic. People in the crowd greeted him from time to time, to which he responded with a smile. He was exceedingly well-liked.
Infected by his mood, Yaoying temporarily put aside her worries to immerse herself in the Royal Court’s lively and joyful celebration.
The long street under the city gate was laid with felt carpet. Twenty giant four-wheeled carriages slowly drove to the high platform under the gate tower. On the high platform, there was an incense burner table encircled by pearls and gold, reflecting and sparkling. The nobles and ministers in splendid attire stepped down from the high platform, took off their felt hats, and met the vehicles barefoot.
A clear and melodious tune floated over from the south. The impassioned crowd suddenly quieted. Everyone held their breath with rapt attention, consciously retreating to both sides of the road. Raising their heads, they gazed across the long street, their expressions respectful, eyes with admiration.
Yaoying followed the crowd’s line of sight.
Under the guidance of monks, holding incense burners and dressed in vestments, lined up in two rows, an elephant clad in colored fabric and jewels, gorgeously adorned, came slowly from the south, with a throne on its back. A person sat on top of the throne, face like the cold moon, eyes like the lotus, holding a lotus branch in one hand, holding a lotus flower in the other. In a wide, snow-white gold-embroidered kasaya, eyes slightly drooping, the person was seemingly in meditation, surrounded by a faint halo of Buddhist brilliance, rather like a god.
Tumoroga was here.
He glanced at the crowd without emotion, as if all things in the world could not enter his eyes.
The crowd along the sides of the roads was quiet for a moment, then erupted into a resoundingly loud cheer. Everyone looked up at him, excited and glowing, falling over each other to throw flowers at him. Some wanted to touch the corner of his robe but were stopped by the blue-clad Central Army knights.
The music was mellow, the flowers floating down like rain.
The elephant walked before the high platform, docilely kneeling down. The nobles and ministers took two steps forward and knelt beside the elephant’s feet. Tumoroga raised a foot and stepped on the minister’s hands and shoulders to ascend to the high platform.
Xie Qing and Xie Chong froze for a moment and asked in a low voice, “Princess, what kind of practice is this? Their king actually stepped on the ministers’ shoulders!”
Yaoying explained to them, “This is the ascension ceremony, which is common in Tianzhu and Western Regions.”
Her eyes fell on the ministers. Kang Mozhe and others stood under the high platform in a disciplined manner, with deferential demeanors and not a trace of resentment on their faces—seeing how revered and powerful Tumoroga was, did they dare to be unruly?
A rich, gentle voice rang out from the high platform. Tumoroga began to preach, using the Hu language that the common people could understand.
Yaoying listened for a while, but could only understand the general idea. He was telling the story of Buddha who saw the misery of life and thus became weary of the human world, practicing meditation and enlightenment.
His voice was cool and mellow, with a clear and calm cadence. The people listened with fascination.
Half a quarter of an hour later, Yaoying could not understand anymore and looked up at Tumoroga above on the high platform. His face was handsome, his bearing elegant. One could no longer see the traces of serious illness from his body.
Yaoying discovered that she had never seen Tumoroga standing before. Just now, as he stepped on the minister’s shoulders to ascend the high platform, his legs were long, his figure tall and upright, seemingly a little taller than Bisha.
What exactly was the disease he was suffering from?
The puja lasted for a shichen. Ashina Bisha listened halfway through before he guided Yaoying to exit from the crowd and took her to the Buddhist temple.
The Buddhist temple was about to hold the scripture debate, which would begin when Tumoroga finished preaching. The senior monks had arrived long ago. Except for those who had gone to visit the puja, the rest were already preparing for the sutra debate. The courtyard was crowded with monks, some sitting on the ground, meditating with their eyes closed, while others were already disputing with those around them, grumbling and arguing loudly.
The atmosphere in the temple was tense and lively. The young monks who stayed in the temple were all full of anticipation, waiting to see how Tumoroga would elegantly duel the monks with words.
His early reputation had been won from one debate meeting after another.
Yaoying followed Bisha to their seats and looked around in boredom.
Bisha looked down and was telling her a few interesting anecdotes about his childhood practice in the Buddhist temple when a sharp gaze suddenly swept over.
Yaoying’s heart skipped a beat and she looked over.
In the corner of the courtyard, a man in a half-sleeved robe leaned lazily against the pagoda. Talking to the monks around him while looking up at her, his light golden eyes shone with a palpitating cold aura in the sunlight.
It was Haidu Aling!
Seeing that she recognized him, the corner of Haidu Aling’s mouth hooked up. He raised his chin, his contours rugged and steely.
Yaoying did not want to be in the same room with him, getting up to leave her seat.
Bisha stood up with a bewildered look on his face. Seeing that she didn’t look quite right, he looked in the direction she was staring at, and his eyes collided with Haidu Aling’s.
The two stared at each other for a moment. Haidu Aling quirked the corners of his lips and withdrew his eyes, a sneer on his face.
Bisha’s face became red. Quickening his steps to catch up with Yaoying, he said shamefacedly, “Princess Wenzhao, Northern Rong also sent monks over to debate scriptures with the king. However, I did not know the envoy the Northern Rong sent was Prince Haidu Aling!
“Princess, there is no need to be afraid. This is the Royal Court; he would not dare to mess around!”
Yaoying hurriedly walked out of the Buddhist temple and slowly settled her mind. Pausing in her steps, she turned back towards Bisha and smiled: “I do not want to see him. I cannot accompany General to watch the scripture debate.”
Bisha rushed to say, “I happen to not want to watch it, either. I will send Princess back to the palace.”
When the two arrived back at the royal palace, Yaoying instructed her soldiers, “No one is allowed to leave the palace anymore these days. The Northern Rong are in the Holy City.”
Everyone knew the gravity of the situation and nodded their heads in acceptance.
Yaoying remembered the smile on Haidu Aling’s lips that carried determined to win, and she was uneasy and troubled.
She would not fall into his hands again. She must return to the Central Plains.
……
Yaoying did not know that someone was thinking of her in the Central Plains, 8,000 miles away.
A few months ago, Chang’an.
A fast horse set off from the Pei Residence. The rider traveled day and night, rushing for three days and three nights. Arriving at the capital, not even able to take a few more breaths, they headed straight to the Eastern Palace.
A eunuch’s sharp voice announced: “Your Highness, the man sent to the Pei family has returned!”
Footsteps sounded suddenly. A man dressed in the formal robes of the Crown Prince stepped out of the inner room with phoenix eyes rimmed with red.