TMBM Chapter 133: Debate
July 5, 2023mich
After successive days of busyness, Yaoying estimated that Ashina Bisha would soon return, and began to prepare for her trip to Gaochang. Previously, Tumoroga had said he would have Bisha accompany her on her mission to Gaochang.
During this period, she insisted on appearing at the sermon every morning. Although she could not understand the preaching, she could still sit honestly for an hour and follow the monks in reciting the scriptures.
Tumoroga had helped her, and she could not fail to live up to his painstaking efforts.
The monks and Yaoying did not speak the same language, but seeing that she had a pious and respectful attitude and that she was so young and beautiful yet she was able to disregard her beauty and not apply makeup and wake up before the sky was bright to attend lessons day after day, their attitude toward her was much kinder than before.
But still, no one dared to talk to Yaoying. Wherever she passed, all the monks immediately averted their eyes, not daring to look at her. Some closed their eyes chanting scriptures, some meditated, and some turned their heads to avoid.
Banruo was exasperated: Obviously, these monks were not strong enough. Their hearts were shaken by Yaoying’s beauty, so they avoided her as if she was a scourge!
He secretly complained to Yuanjue, “Every time Princess Wenzhao passes by the front hall, the eyes of those young monks are about to fall out! What should we do if this goes on?”
Yuanjue smiled: “The princess only comes to the temple to chant sutras during morning lessons, but never walks around the temple at other times. She has neither deliberately seduced anyone, nor has she dressed up and showed off anywhere. The city’s nobles and noblewomen also often come to the front hall to listen to the Zen masters’ sutras. Everyone is dressed up conspicuously, with accessories on their head, stacks and layers of gold and jewels hanging from their body in fear of being suppressed by others. Moreover, they also have to bring four or five maids. So many women come to listen to the sutras; why do you only target Princess Wenzhao?”
Banruo was unable to respond. After a short bout of silence, he angrily stomped his foot: “Princess Wenzhao looks like a goddess, more beautiful than them all!”
Yuanjue was amused and felt helpless, “The princess’ beauty is a gift, not a sin. This is also the Buddha’s test for the young shami and the others. If they can pass this trial, it means they are pious. If they are enchanted every day, it means their piety is not enough. It is to sharpen them.”
He paused for a moment and said solemnly, “It is the same for the king.”
Banruo thought about it, and there was truth to his words so he could only accept.
Yaoying did not know that Yuanjue really regarded her as the Buddha’s trial for Tumoroga, and went to morning classes every day with regularity.
Usually, she came and went alone, but this day, some monks stopped her after the sermon. They opened their mouths with a large paragraph of Sanskrit.
Not understanding, she was completely baffled.
Another monk was displeased and pulled the first monk into a heated debate. The more the two argued, the more agitated they became. Several monks next to them got involved, soon attracting the attention of the temple master.
“What’s going on?”
The temple master rushed over to mediate.
The quarreling monks did not lower their voices, but rather, the more they argued, the louder their voices got. They also pulled each other with their hands, hit each other’s shoulders, and argued until they were red in the face.
The temple master was furious, but when he heard what the several monks were arguing about, he did not reprimand them, but frowned and said, “I cannot make a decision on this matter. It has to be decided by the master.”
Before Yaoying could clearly figure out what the monks were arguing about, she was sent to Tumoroga’s meditation room by the temple master along with the quarreling monks.
The silvery-white flowers of the sand palm jujube trees in the courtyard had almost fallen out, littering the ground full of petals.
Tumoroga was attending to his official business in a shoulder-baring kasaya, exposing soft, shiny honey-colored shoulders.
The temple master first saluted respectfully, informing his close guards. He waited for Yuanjue to signal him to go in, and immediately took the few monks into the meditation room to report what had happened.
After listening to his report, Tumoroga raised his eyes and looked at Yaoying who was standing in front of the door.
Yaoying understood and walked in.
Tumoroga instructed Yuanjue, “Fetch paper and pen.”
Yuanjue moved a small desk over, brought paper and pen, and put it on Tumoroga’s right side.
Tumoroga asked Yaoying, “Can the princess transcribe the Heart Sutra that she had recited some time ago?”
He looked at her, his eyes like a pool of turquoise water, cold and gentle.
Although there was no deliberate intention to soothe, it could immediately calm people’s hearts.
Yaoying settled down, nodding her head. She walked to the small desk, sat down cross-legged, and began to write silently with her pen.
The room was quiet, with only the rustling of the pen brushing against the paper.
In a short while, Yaoying finished writing silently and handed it to Yuanjue, who sent it to Tumoroga’s table.
Tumoroga glanced at the paper, scanning it once before reading it again from the beginning, this time very carefully.
When he finished reading, he put down the paper.
“Does the princess have the original Sanskrit version of the Heart Sutra?”
Yaoying shook her head. Most of the original versions of the Buddhist scriptures were in Sanskrit, and there were different translations. Her dowry contained many Sanskrit versions of the Buddhist scriptures, but no Sanskrit version of the Heart Sutra.
Several monks heard this and whispered, one of them looking quite stimulated.
Tumoroga glanced at him lightly.
The monk’s face turned red. He stopped arguing and lowered his head.
Tumoroga asked Yuanjue to fetch paper. He took up his pen, and began to write, with the Chinese text Yaoying had just written as a guide.
Yaoying was a little curious and her eyes fell on his pen and found that he was writing Sanskrit, which she couldn’t read.
Was he directly translating what she had recited?
She looked at it for a while, and before she could understand it, Tumoroga suddenly raised his head and his line of sight met hers.
Yaoying was stunned and smiled at him, her eyebrows slightly curved, her eyes dark and shining.
Like flowers on a branch, blooming brilliantly and brightly, full of youthful pride, eyes full of trust.
She was no longer aggrieved about eating vegetarian?
Tumoroga lowered his eyes, pointed to a spot on the paper, and softly asked Yaoying about the sentence she had written from memory.
Yaoying returned to her senses and answered in a low voice.
Tumoroga hummed, raising his pen to revise the words he wrote before. In a short while, he asked again, and Yaoying answered seriously.
They spoke in Chinese. The guards and monks did not understand, and could not interject a word, but could only hold their breath and stare at them unblinkingly, observing their expressions.
Yaoying sat beside Tumoroga. He asked a question, and she answered.
She glanced at the monks who looked tense and eager, and said honestly, “Venerable Master, I don’t really understand the scriptures either. Would Venerable like to find a few more people to ask?”
Tumoroga lowered his eyebrows and said, “No matter. The princess only needs to repeat the original text.”
She didn’t know exactly how long it took, but he finished the translation, took another piece of paper to transcribe it, and then handed it to Yuanjue.
Yuanjue handed the paper to the few waiting monks, who scrambled to pass it around and bickered again. Finally, they saluted Tumoroga, looking like they were waiting for his judgment.
Tumoroga said a few words.
Several monks paused for a long time, showing a thoughtful look, some with a flash of enlightenment, and some still a little bewildered. After a long time, they all faced Tumoroga with their hands together and withdrew.
Leaving Yaoying sitting alone in front of the table in bewilderment: what just happened?
She looked at Tumoroga and asked in a small voice in Chinese: “Venerable, I have not given you any trouble, have I? Why are they arguing over the Heart Sutra?”
Tumoroga shook his head slightly, indicating that nothing was wrong, and said, “They have not read the Sanskrit text of the Heart Sutra, and they have searched the ancient books and found no record of it, so they suspect that it is a forged sutra, leading to their arguing. It has nothing to do with the princess.”
Yaoying was surprised. After a moment of thought, she said decisively, “Then I won’t recite it in the future.”
There were many sects of Buddhism, and the teachings of Buddhism on this side of the Western Regions were more deeply influenced by Tianzhu. It became fused with local customs and conventions, mixed with many things she did not understand, and she did not want to offend others with her unintentional actions.
Tumoroga looked down at the Heart Sutra Yaoying had just written and said, “The princess need not mind. Whether the Heart Sutra is authentic or not, is not for them to recognize. Whether or not there is a Sanskrit original, there is Buddhist truth in the scripture. Since the Buddha achieved nirvana, more than a thousand years have passed. Various sects have expounded the sutras and written a vast sea of Buddhist scriptures. Are all the ones they have not seen counterfeit?”
Yaoying suddenly realized. Just now, those monks held their own opinions regarding the origin of the Heart Sutra and asked Tumoroga for his judgment. This was the answer he gave.
No wonder those monks were convinced.