We get taken to a small hall to the side of the palace. Upon seeing Lu Zuan, the two guards at the entrance immediately stand up and bow in ceremony. Lu Zuan orders them to open the doors. Unable to help myself, I try to take a peek inside. Rajiva is nowhere to be found, however. On the bed is a young woman without a stich of clothing on, arms curled tight to hide her chest. I can barely recognize her as the little girl Asuyamati from back then. Seeing us, she immediately huddles into a corner of the bed, head cast down, her curly red hair falling down to cover her face.
“How’s the situation?” Lu Zuan asks the guards.
The two men sneer as they report: “Following the General’s orders, we have stripped them of their clothes but no avail. So we had forced Kumarajiva to drink wine earlier. We even mixed it with a bit of ‘medicine’. Faced with such a fair-skinned, delicate-looking princess like that, if it was anyone else, they’d have rushed forward immediately, let alone someone who has consumed wine laced with ‘medicine’. We thought the monk was impotent, but it does not seem to be the case. He merely forced himself to vomit everything we gave him to drink. Such indomitable will! But this kind of spirit really does make one admire him. Perhaps he really is a great master-”
Lu Zuan glares at them. The guards immediately shut up. He then turns to me and orders coldly:
“If he still does not break his vows tonight and my father loses his wager, you know well what the consequences would be, yes?”
Seeing how much they have tortured Rajiva has made my blood boil. The history books wrote that Rajiva broke his precepts because he was forced out of his clothes and made to drink wine, but they did not write about the fact that his wine was laced with aphrodisiac. Now, having heard such barbaric words pass Lu Zuan’s mouth, my head jerks up, all the anger in me ready to burst.
But before I could do so, Pusysdeva has quickly moved to stand in front of me.
“Young General, there is no cause to worry for she will certainly give her all tonight. Those concubines and servants will definitely become your father’s.”
Pusysdeva glances around, then moves to where a long table is and takes off the table cloth. After that, he steps inside the room, wraps the cloth around the Princess and helps her stand up. When he’s making his exit, he pauses for a second, face turning to a corner and lets his expression fall for a brief moment as a soft sigh escapes him. Princess Asuyamati’s face up close is deathly pale and clearly frightened. When he passes by me, he says loudly in Han:
“Enter quickly and do not disappoint General Lu!
He then switches to Tocharian and says in a whisper: “He has waited for you the past ten years. Make him happy.”
His face is eerily calm but there’s a certain sadness at the corner of his eyes. I look at Pusysdeva, summon all the courage I can before nodding and heading inside. The doors drift shut.
I turn my eyes towards the corner where Pusysdeva was staring at earlier and finally see a thin figure huddling there. My breathing comes to a stop. I don’t dare to look at him. Rajiva, it has only been nine months for me but for you, it’s already been ten years. Those nine months full of longing have made me a dry husk of myself. But you, you have been spending these long nights all alone with only the Buddha as your company the past ten years! How did you bear such loneliness? If it was the other way around, I don’t think I’d have been able to last this long. Forgive me for making you wait this whole time. Forgive me for choosing to come to you at this particular juncture in your life. I hope that this is the time where you need the most. If possible, I will not leave you again this time. Let me compensate you for the last ten years.
I hold my breath and quietly approach his side. I have yet to see him and the signs of age on his face, but my heart is already beating fast and squeezing tight.
Not a single piece of cloth is covering Rajiva. He’s sitting with his knees drawn tight to his chest, head cast down, like that of a fetus still inside a mother’s womb. His honeycomb skin is glowing under the light overhead. I look around and see that there’s no curtains on the windows, no table cloth, no blanket on the bed, absolute nothing that can be used to cover him. I smile bitterly. Lu Guang is certainly as cruel as the books say!
I pull out a jacket from my backpack and step closer to him. The pungent smell of alcohol is radiating from him in waves, and on the ground next to him is a mess from vomit. I kneel down and drape the jacket over him. My fingers brush his skin and find it burning. The little touch startles him, making him look up. Those grey eyes of his that used to be like two fathomless pools of water are now bloodshot. He has become much thinner, his face narrower, and there’s a bit of stubble dusting his chin. His face is bright red like he is about to combust. Ten years have passed, but he is still as handsome as ever. However, the years have unfortunately left behind a few shallow lines of wrinkles on his forehead. These past few days of torturous conditions have left him haggard, his lips pale and chapped. There’s a bit of dry blood at the corner of his mouth, which must have been because he was biting on his lips too hard, for there’s also an imprint of teeth on them.
“Rajiva…”
The more I look at him, the more my heart clenches in pain. Having to suffer such indignity and cruelty, would a normal person be able to hang on for as long as he has? It’s not about trying to hold onto his vows, this is him trying all his might to protect his life-long beliefs. How could Lu Guang make him suffer so for some stupid bet?
Those exhausted eyes of his look at me for a long second before widening. A ray of light seems to shine through the gray pupils, full of disbelief as he stares at my face. His cracked lips open slowly and a thin voice comes out, trembling like a dry leaf in the wind.
“It’s me, I am back,” I tell him.
“Ai…Qing…” Each spoken syllable comes out as stuttered breath, barely discernable, after he takes his time gazing at my face for a long while. But all of a sudden, his face crumbles in embarrassment. His shoulders draw back and his whole body trembles as he turns away. His voice comes out again full of pain:
“Don’t…Don’t look at me.”
“Rajiva…”
My heart breaks at his words. That a grand master such as him has to suffer like this, how could one’s heart not ache!
“Don’t cry…”
He turns around, one hand reaching forward as if to gently cusp my face but when his fingers are almost touching me, he immediately withdraws them. He shuts his eyes, right hand clutching the string of prayer beads, the beads so old now that you can barely see any colour on them. He fingers the beads as he chants mantras, as if I am merely air. They’re the ones I gave to him over twenty years ago. On his left wrist is a string of clear agate beads, and even this one is already over ten years old.
“Rajiva, what’s wrong?”
Seeing that the only things left on his body are the strings of beads from years ago, I bite my lips to stop of the tears from flowing.
“Desire begets illusions, that which do not base itself in reality. An illusion is merely a blindfold. All things are empty and non-existent.” He continues to keep his eyes shut, his voice getting weaker and weaker as he chants the mantras in Han.
I wipe my tears away. He must think that I’m an illusion. He’s still sitting on the floor. Even though it’s carpeted and it’s summer right now, nighttime at oases are still very cold. I stand up and step out of the doors, only to find that Lu Zuan is still here and talking to the guards. I call onto them to bring some blanket. Lu Zuan laughs cruelly and says with a scorn: “You must make him break his precepts without using anything!”
My face darkens at that. Still, I insist on getting on a cup of water. Lu Zuan orders someone to do so, then turns around to me with cold eyes:
“You should make haste so I can return and report to my father soon. Also, you must make sure to do ‘the deed’ on the bed!”
He jerks his chin towards the window. I follow his sight to the hole the shape of a rhombus on the wall, where you can clearly see the bed in the room. How perverted! Must he really witness the act before he can be satisfied? The lot of them treats this like some sort of joke, a mere game of bet to be won! It makes me sick with disgust.
The hatred rising in me makes me almost toss the cup of water onto his face. I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself down before returning to the room. Lu Zuan yells out from behind, full of laughter: “If you are unable to make him break, come and serve me after!”
No amount of words can describe my anger at this moment. I very much wish I could tell him in excruciating detail about how he will meet his end later on [as per history].
“Rajiva, drink a bit of water.”
I gently call on him and place the rim of the cup to his lips. Perhaps he is too thirsty, for he doesn’t decline and gulp the entire thing down. I pull out my handkerchief and wipe the drops of water on his mouth.
He looks at my handkerchief intently. I smile: “Do you still remember this handkerchief? It was you who gave this to me. You have said that you never see me use one, and how unbecoming it is to always wipe my mouth with my hands. I’ve always kept it with me, never once using, because I can’t bring myself to-”
All of a sudden, I feel myself pulled into his burning chest. His heart beats furiously by my ear. His face is rubbing against my neck, veins pulled tight and trembling as if they’re plucking the strings to my heart. One of his hands is combing through my hair as he exhales my name on a breath.
I fall into his embrace, that which was once familiar now feels somewhat strange to me. His bare skin is touching me, his whole body trembling in waves, I feel like I’m being set on fire from how hot his skin is.
He gently lets go of me for a second to put a tiny bit of distance between us. His eyes scan my face hungrily. Before I can even say a word, he falls forward again and crashes his lips onto mine.
His kiss is not as gentle as the one from my memories. Instead, he is panting and trying to pry my lips apart with fervor. The taste of alcohol spreads in my mouth as he moves his tongue inside. I can feel the stubble on his chin rubbing against my cheeks. His breath is quickening as he presses me down onto the floor, his whole body covering mine.
“Rajiva…” I grab onto one of his arms and whisper into his ears: “Let’s move to the bed.”
He stops, a moment of lucidity returning, and lets go of me. He bites hard on his already cracked lips. A drop of blood bursts out and paints his dry lips red.
Tears streaming down, he tries to hold himself back with every bit of strength left in him. If there is another way, I would have respected his wishes. But those men outside are crazed and our lives are in their hands. He and I are merely chess pieces in these turbulent times. To survive, we must complete our “coming-of-age ceremony” tonight in front of these eyes.
I wipe my tears and take a moment to compose myself. Settled, I pick up the jacket that has fallen onto the side and drape it back onto him. I then place his arm onto my shoulders and support him to the bed, every step heavy and slow. Gautama Buddha, please understand the pious heart of this disciple of yours, please take pity on him. He has held himself back, has endured much suffering, has done what no ordinary person can. That’s why, I beg you, please punish me instead. I am willing to bear all of his sins.
His body is really heavy, and all of his weight is bearing down on my shoulders. In our clumsy walk, my eyes drift over to his body and feel my pulse quicken. Despite his will, under the influence of the aphrodisiac, his lower body still has the same reaction as a normal man. It’s the human instinct, one that even the Buddha cannot erase. Then at least for tonight, let him be an ordinary man. Just for tonight.
He falls down onto the bed, still biting his lips, but his eyes are watching me closely, and shining in their depths is a burning desire of a man. I take a deep breath and begin to take off my clothes. Han outfits are very simple, so as soon as I finish opening all the buttons, my modern underwear is revealed in front of him. With my face feeling like it’s on fire and sweat pooling on my nose, I pause, unable to continue, knowing that outside of that small window, several pairs of eyes are watching us with ill intent.
Rajiva’s right hand is still clutching the string of beads tightly. I want to take them from him and place at the head of the bed but he just wordlessly clutch them tighter. Even after I try to persuade him in gentle tones, I can only get it to be wrapped around his wrist instead.
He’s lying on his side, a hand’s breath from me. His grey eyes are shining with barely concealed desire. His hand is caressing my body, the touch clumsy as he travels from my chest to my waist. I wind my arms around him and lick the corner of his bitten lips. I can feel a salty taste on the tip of my tongue. He lets out a small whimper before suddenly pulling my tongue all the way in. His thin body moves to cover mine while he breaths out in sharp exhales.
The taste of alcohol in his mouth is somewhat unpleasant. I wonder how much wine they forced onto him. A person who has never touched a drop of wine like him, under the influence of alcohol and aphrodisiac, does he still recognize that it’s me in front of him? I want to believe that there is a tiny bit in him that is still aware enough to realize that it is me, and because of that, he is finally able to end the torture he has endured the past few days and displays his desire so openly.
I smile bitterly and scold myself for such souring thoughts. Is this really the time for me to be harbouring such thoughts? I need to be thinking about how to carry out this ‘act’ in the quickest way possible, for only then will those monsters outside be willing to let us go. Otherwise, those soulless bastards will be coming up with even worse tactics to torture him further. He has endured so much the past three days, exhausted in both body and mind, he needs to rest.
The history books wrote that he broke his precepts, and I am willing to be the person who replaces Princess Asuyamati. Love is always selfish. So what I’m changing history? I only know that I love him and want to be the person he breaks the precepts for. Even if he regrets it after, I will not.
Those thoughts help me gain a bit of courage. I start to caress his back. His skin is smooth to the touch. Slowly, as my hand travels further down, I can feel his muscles shifting beneath. He is all coiled muscles, taut as a bowstring, clearly wanting to advance on me but does not know how to, his face hesitant and embarrassed.
His hand moves to my panties and tries to pull it off but I stop him.
“Don’t rush, let me do it.”
After taking off my panties, my fingers are sticky wet. Unable to look at him, I close my eyes and hope that he will finish this quickly.
But after a while, coldness begins to seep into my bare skin and still there is no movement. I open my eyes and find that his chest is heaving with exertion as he pants, eyes a little wild but still full of hesitation. Such tenacious will, this is not something anybody is able to do. Even at this point, his mind is still wrestling with his bodily instinct. I bite my lips and slowly move my hand south. My cheeks are burning. Ah, so during these moments, ‘that place’ of a man is rather hard and as hot as a burning coal.
He moans, hesitation seemingly gone from his eyes as they burn bright. With his knees slightly bent near my thighs, he lets me slowly guide him into the most private part of my body. I close my eyes and allow his instincts to take over. The moment he enters me, the world seems to spin around me and my body feels like it’s being torn apart. I cry out and want to grab onto something to help me through the pain, coming up empty as there’s nothing on the bed. I can only grind my teeth together and endure the waves of pain.
Hearing my cries, he pauses and tries to lean back to look at me. His chest is glistening with sweat, with more streaming on his face and pooling at the bottom of his chin, before dripping down onto my chest. His bloodshot eyes are still wild but there’s a bit of hesitation in his expression.
“I am fine…”
I reassure him even with a dry throat. Trying my hardest to not let any tears fall, I smile weakly at him, Ai Qing-style, hoping that the familiar smile will remain in his memories as something warm when he wakes up tomorrow.
He doesn’t last very long after. At the moment when he reaches his climax, he cries out in rough syllables:
“Ai Qing…”
Even though my tears have dried, hearing that, they begin to pour out again and this time, I don’t try to rein them in as they fall onto the bed. A bittersweet feeling spreads inside me. So he still remembers me all this time…
I look up at the night sky through the clear roof. It feels as though the sky is falling upon us. A million stars and over a thousand years between us, we are here now, together, in this very moment. I have completed my rite of passage from a girl to a woman but more importantly, from this moment on, my soul with forever bond with his, forever not letting go.
He is deep asleep after three days of much suffering. I gently caress the side of his bony face and brush my fingers on his strong brows, over his eyelids, his elegant nose, and his thin lips. This person whom I used to long for every night is here sleeping soundly beside me. I would have not dared to imagine this kind of scene even in my wildest dreams.
I sit up and put on my clothes. My lower body is extremely sore and feels like it’s on fire, and with every move, it is as though a hundred needles are pricking my skin. The blood on the bed has dried, but the blood on my inner thighs is still a bright red. I swallow the pain, climb down the bed and drag myself over to the doors. Every step brings about a fresh wave of pain that tears me apart. It is no wonder that almost every woman’s description of their ‘first time’ is similar.
After pushing the doors open, I coldly say to the group of laughing men [those bastards]: “Now, can you bring me a blanket?”
____________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 43: Waking upI sit on the bed and gaze at Rajiva in silence.
Yesterday was a tiring day, but still I could not sleep very well due to the presence of another person besides me. There’s nothing else in the room that I could lie on, so I had curled up next to him on the bed. It was a long night filled with worries—I was afraid that I’d wake him up if I turn, that I’d accidentally touch him in my sleep, that I’d make things awkward if I wake up later than him. Because of that, I lay very still next him, to the point where my body cramped up from the lack of movement. And then as soon as the sun dawned, I got up and walked around the room, but still careful to not make any sounds.
Rajiva is still fast asleep. Even though he is thirty-five now and not as young as he was eleven years ago, he is still as handsome and otherworldly as before. Compared to others of the same age, he looks very young, probably because of his lifestyle as a Buddhist monk. The barest hints of wrinkles on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes only make him seem more mature and wise. After a night of rest, his complexion now looks so much better and not as haggard as before. There is a slight smile at the corner of his mouth, brightening up his face—he must be having a nice dream.
I keep sitting there gazing at him, the idol of my heart. It’s almost noon and yet he still sleeps. This must be the first time he has slept in so late. As for me, exhaustion has caught up and my head is getting heavier and heavier. Unable to help myself, I lie down and fall asleep just like that.
Somebody is caressing my hair. I jerk my eyes open, heart beating fast when I catch a pair of light grey eyes as clear as a lake in autumn looking back at me. The same pair of eyes that have appeared countless times in my dreams, they’re now in front of me.
“You…have woken up…” I quickly get up and ask, “Are you hungry? I have asked them to bring something-”
I reach for the bowl at the head of the bed but find it cool to the touch, “Oh, it has gotten cold. Let me ask someone to heat it up-”
But before I can leave, I feel a pull at my sleeves. I glance back and see him playing with my sleeves, the expression on his face fond and filled with unbridled nostalgia. The sight makes my heart ache. I call out his name:
“Rajiva…”
“That you’d be back every ten years…it’s really true.”
Still lying on the bed, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft sigh, lips quivering slightly:
“It’s good that you’re back…”
Kneeling down next to the bed, I take his hand and put it on my cheek. With a smile, I reply: “Yes, I am back.”
Rajiva’s hand trembles as he caresses my face, slowly making his away across my eyelids, my nose, my lips. His eyes shine brighter with every movement. Then all of a sudden, he sits up and pulls me into a tight embrace. His chin is right atop my head, I can feel his stubble rubbing, which makes me want to laugh but it comes out as a wheezing, teary sound instead.
“Gautama Buddha is really too kind towards Rajiva…” he says with a shaky voice, “to allow you to come back like this…”
He lets go and places two hands on my shoulders, eyes scanning me.
“Eleven years and still you have not changed in the slightest…”
“I have, actually. I’m now twenty-five…”
I look at him with a smile, but my nose is stinging.
“One year above equals ten years down here?”
He brushes a hand through my hair, the movement so gentle it’s like he’s holding a treasure.
“The first time we met, you were older than me by ten years. The second time we met, you were the same age as me. And now, I am older than you by ten years.”
His hand moves to caress my cheeks, eyes tender:
“Ai Qing, did you know that this “ten” signifies fate in the realm beyond?”
I laugh. That’s right, everything has been orchestrated by the gods.
My eyes land on his bare chest. Memories of last night flood back, setting my face on fire. Feeling awkward, I say to him:
“Ah…you should wash up and eat-Your head must hurt a lot, right? I have asked them to make you some hangover soup-”
As soon as the dawn broke, I have asked them to bring water and quietly washed myself. I wanted to help him, but I was afraid I’d wake him up and well, it’s not like I actually had the courage to do such a thing anyway. He was sweating last night, plus all the alcohol he had to drink the past three days—the smell is not very pleasant.
Hearing me, he lets go of me with a startle. The movement makes the blanket fall away, revealing the spots of dried blood on the mat. Without even looking at himself, he grabs my arm and pulls up my sleeves to examine my elbow. After the surgery, the injury is pretty much gone, the only trace left being a small scar.
“It’s all healed. How mighty the Buddha is, to turn your arm into whole once again like this!”
He looks up at me, eyebrows pulled together: “So then where are you hurt?”
It’s only now that I understand he’s been talking about that spot of blood. Embarrassed, I stammer:
“I’m not hurt. T-That, that is from a woman’s f-first time…” I have never felt this embarrassed standing in front of him. “Anyway, I’m all fine now, so you don’t have to worry—”
“First time?”
He only seems to be more confused. Could it be that he does he not remember anything?
I don’t want to think too much about this, I got to find something to do. I stand up to get water, but the sudden movement rekindles the pain in my lower body, making me hiss.
“Where are you hurt?”
Rajiva pulls me back and looks all over me with those clear eyes of his.
“I’m really fine!”
I gently take his arm off, bite back the pain and go outside of the room to grab the basin of water. The towel inside is a product from the 21st century because the one in this era is too rough. I wring the towel and give to Rajiva:
“Use this to wipe down your body.”
He doesn’t move to grab it and instead pulls the blanket aside. Upon looking, his face suddenly burns as hot as the summer sun. Rajiva seems to blank out for a few seconds as his eyes become cloudy. It takes him a moment before he turns around to ask me.
“I hurt you, didn’t I?”
I am half amused and half mad at him. This intelligent person, why is he so slow in these things? How am I supposed to explain it to him?
“You didn’t hurt me, I was a willing participant!”
He looks dazed, then his face becomes serious:
“Ai Qing, when did you return? How did you get here?”
“I arrived yesterday.”
I think it’s time I tell him what happened.
“Yesterday, Pusysdeva and I sought an audience with Lu Guang to persuade him to switch me with Asuyamati.”
Rajiva trembles, his face as pale as a sheet of paper, his voice the barest breath:
“I really did see you yesterday?”
I nod.
“So it was not a dream…And here I was, wondering why the dream felt so real…”
He leans closer, wanting to say something, but unable to voice it out for a few seconds.
“I-I really did b-break the precepts?”
“Rajiva, it was me who seduced you.” I bite my lips and gently take a hold of his hands. “The Buddha will understand your pious heart. You courageously endured for three days, it was not something anybody can do. They even forced you to drink alcohol with aphrodisiac inside. So please, don’t think too much about what happened last night. Don’t blame yourself either. You did nothing wrong…”
Rajiva bows his head in silence. The hand that was holding onto the blanket in a tight grip is trembling. I know that in a few moments, he will not be able to come to accept this truth [that he has broken the precepts]. I can only sigh and place the basin and a clean set of clothes onto the bedside table.
“I will go outside for a moment. You should wipe your body and change your clothes.”
It’s a commoner’s outfit made from silk. Those bastards refused to give me a monk’s robes.
“I was not able to get your kasaya robes, so please wear this for now.”
With that, I take the tray of food that is now cold outside.
There’s always someone standing guard outside. I ask them to warm up the food. They don’t give much difficulty, even acting polite towards me. Whatever I’ve asked for, they have complied with. Except the right to walk around freely, that is. Bright sunlight is streaming down everywhere in the palace. It’s hard to believe how there is a war happening under this beautiful blue sky, a war that is full of bloodshed and tearful goodbyes. If not for this war, perhaps Rajiva would have been merely a speck of sand in the river of history, and there would have not been a famous translator monk whose name will be passed down for generations. But in order to earn this legacy, he has to live through a life full of adversity—would one call such a fate fortunate or unfortunate?
When I return to the room with the food reheated, Rajiva has changed his clothes to the one I brought earlier and is sitting cross-legged, chanting mantras. With his tall figure, just putting on that outfit which is cinched at the waist and commonly worn by Kuchan men, has already made him look very masculine. Not counting his shaved head, looking at him from behind, one can use the phrase “jade tree in the wind”* to describe him.
*a Chinese idiom, to describe a man who is tall, stately and handsome.
I put the tray of food onto the table. The water in the basin has changed colour, so he must have already washed up. I call him to eat, but he doesn’t reply, just continue to chant mantras. Not wanting to bother him, I sit down and wait.
However, two hours have passed by and still he has not stopped chanting. I begin to realize with some sadness that he is not doing his morning chant routine, but trying to punish himself. For how much longer will he continue to do this?
Unable to bear it any longer, I pull at his arm and plead:
“Rajiva, please stop with the chants. It’s my fault. It was me who seduced you. The one who causes a Buddhist disciple to break their precepts is the one with the heaviest sin. Let me bear this sin. You did nothing wrong.”
He opens his eyes and glances at me with a clear-headed look. With a gentle shake of his head, he takes my hand off and continues to chant.
Looking around, I find a fly-whisk in a vase. I grab it and bring it to him.
“Rajiva, if you think you have committed a grave sin, I can help you. There’s this school of thought that people in the far west follows. In this school of thought, it is believed that the sin of breaking your vows can be atoned for by self-flagellation, which is the act of hitting oneself with a whip. The pain of the flesh will alleviate your heart, will help you ask the heavens for forgiveness.”
I crouch down before him and gently ask, “Do you want to try?”
Self-flagellation is a practice exercised by numerous Christians throughout history. The Church constantly emphasizes to its followers what a sin it is to engage in sexual acts, and how such acts will taint their souls and make them unable to ascend to the heaven. That’s why, those who hate or are afraid of sexual desires, whether they are monks or nuns, will try to repent by practicing self-flagellation, hoping that the mortification of the flesh in this life will earn them happiness in the afterlife. During the Black Death [the Great Plague] of Europe in the 14th century, many religious zealots would organize themselves and go around across towns, before gathering in a central public space and begin to whip themselves until their skin breaks and blood comes out.*
[T/N: Yes, this whole paragraph is true. I’ve fact-checked it myself. * shudder *]
He looks at me, eyes clearly pained, then silently drops his shirt down to his waist, closes his eyes, and continues to chant.
I move to stand behind him, hold the fly-whisk handle-up in a tight grip, take a deep breath and bite my lips before swinging my hand down. A cracking sound resonates in the air as soon as the whisk makes contact. Rajiva trembles in surprise. A long red mark has begun to appear on his back. I bite my lips again as I move the fly-whisk behind me and strike it down my back. The pain is immediate and shoots straight to my brain, making tears well up in my eyes.
“What are you doing?”
In a flash, he has taken the fly-whisk away from me. I fall forward into his arms. Despite my teary eyes, I can see the surprise and pain on his face [at my actions].
“You want to punish yourself, I will bear it with you. You don’t want to eat, I will also do the same. And if you can’t accept my identity as a lay person, then I’ll cut my hair and become a nun.” Cries rise up my throat, I have to take a breath to swallow them down. “But Rajiva, this time, no matter what happens, I will not leave you. No matter what kind of storms await us ahead, let me stay next to you and help you overcome them, please?”
He only hugs me tighter. I encircle my arms around him in return. If only this embrace can help me become one with him, how happy would that be. As I lean my head onto his shoulders, the tears finally fall down and onto the red mark on his back. His chest is also shaking, his tears wetting my clothes. How many times have we cried in each other’s arms like this? I really cannot bear seeing him cry…
“Ai Qing, I’m not punishing myself for breaking the precepts. The body is merely a covering. Mahayana Buddhism is not so rigid as to fault its disciples for such a happening, not to mention that I was under duress. But I have to repent to the Buddha still, for my heart has ‘broken the precepts’ along with my body…”
He releases his hold on me and moves away slightly. His fingers gently caress my cheeks, the expression on his face is tinted with sorrow.
“No, that is not correct. My heart did not break the precepts yesterday night. It already did so eleven years, twenty years ago. When I was but a boy, meeting you had already sent my heart into disarray. After you left, for some reason, I continued to sketch your portrait over and over. Looking at the statue of Buddha but all I could see was your face, in that moment, it was clear that I have been caught in the web of desire. Desire is always the hardest obstacle for a disciple to overcome. I was extremely afraid, so every time thoughts of you surfaced, I would repent by chanting mantras. But when you returned, the joy of being in your presence was greater than my research and study of Buddhist philosophy, and no amount of chanting could help suppress the desire in my heart. And after kissing you…I knew then that I’d never be able to extinguish my feelings for you…”
Tears continue to crystalize in his eyes and gently roll down his cheeks.
“Eleven years ago, unable to meet you for the last time [to say goodbye], I had meditated in your room for three days. After those three days, I had come to this conclusion: If I cannot forget you, then I might as well channel my longing into a discipline. With such thinking, I was able to quell my sorrow and returned my focus to practicing Buddhism. I also had this thought, that if you don’t return in ten years, then I will fulfill your wish and go to the Central Plains to promote Buddhism. But right when I was making preparations to go, Kucha encountered this calamity and I had to endure this kind of humiliation.”
He pauses to take a breath before continuing:
“The three days I was held captive, in my mind there was only Buddha. My heart was still as water, and I treated my cousin as merely air. But after breaking the precept of ‘no alcohol’, your face began to appear in front of my eyes, in my heart. It’s not that I did not remember what happened yesterday; I was merely in denial. Even though my memory is vague, I could still remember clearly that moment when my body achieved a pleasure that cannot be described in words. That’s why I had tried to convince myself, that it was merely a secret dream of mine, a dream that I often have. But then you told me that everything in that dream was real…”
He lifts his head up to take another deep breath, the veins in his neck slightly bulging. A moment later, he turns his gaze towards me and shakes his head in sorrow. More tears drip down onto his clothes.
“Earlier, when I learned that I had…relations with you as husband and wife would…If it wasn’t for Lu Guang’s coercion, Rajiva would never dare to do such a thing with you! So the first thing I felt upon hearing the news wasn’t shame…but a feeling of h-happiness blooming in the crevices of my heart. But right after that, I became fearful for harbouring such thoughts. Decades of discipline had not helped me subdue my feelings for you. This sin, no amount of chanting will be able to erase. I am not fit to be a disciple of Buddha… I recall the words of the old Master I met when I was young, where he warned that if I don’t follow precepts seriously, I will be nothing but a clever monk.* Earlier, I kept thinking about his words as I chanted and it brought me much sorrow. I have broken my precepts at the exact age of thirty-five like he predicted—could this be the heaven’s will, that Rajiva would only be a clever monk with no legacy to leave behind?”
* [T/N: See Ch. 5. This event of young Rajiva meeting an old monk who made such a prophecy about his life was indeed recorded in the history books.]
I have cried to the point where I’m having a hard time breathing. I have never heard him speak so much, every word coming from the depths of his heart, each one more painful than the last.
“Rajiva, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. My presence has stirred up chaos in your heart and making you question your piety towards Buddha. If you want me to leave, I will…”
“It’s already too late…”
He leans forward and kisses me with trembling lips. I can feel a salty taste on my lips, whether that’s from my tears or his, I do not know.
“If you have returned, how could I possibly let you go and endure another ten years of longing…Ai Qing, you hitting your own back with that fly-whisk have awoken me. You are prepared to share my pain and willing to walk through every storm ahead with me, so how I could not at least muster up the courage to admit my feelings for you the past twenty years? I only thought of myself, feeling shame for breaking the precepts, for not being able to become a great master, and forgot that you suffered even more than me. You had returned during my most difficult times. Yesterday night, you had exchanged your maidenhood to end my suffering under Lu Guang’s hands. Ai Qing, how could I possibly measure up to your love? I don’t want us to continue to torture ourselves with longing as we did the past ten years. Becoming a great master, achieving self-liberation and reaching Nirvana, all of that means nothing if you’re not besides me, because I would be merely a body without a soul. Such a life is not worth living!”
He lifts his head from my shoulders and wipes my tears. Holding my face in his hand, he looks at me with a firm gaze and says: “With you besides me, I am prepared to be cast to the deepest level of hell.”
“Don’t forget, I will be right there with you…”
With our fingers intertwined, we kiss each other without any idea of time passing. We kiss until our tears are dried, but the sweetness of the kisses only make the tears return like an endless waterfall. How many more decades do we have in life to waste? Starting from this moment, we promise to treasure every minute and second spent together…
I don’t know how long we stay tangled like that, crying and kissing, when he suddenly pulls apart and lets out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I did not expect that after untying the knots of my heart after twenty years of suppression would result in such an aching pain in my head.”
I laugh out loud.
“It’s because you were forced to drink wine.”
I take the bowl of soup from the head of the bed and pass it over to him.
“This is a hangover soup I asked them to make for you. If you have taken it right from the start then your head would not have hurt as much now.”