Chapter 255: Seems Like an Old Friend Returning (7,500 characters, two chapters in one, one update today)

In 935, on the first day of the tenth month, after nearly five months of trekking over mountains and rivers, Zhang Zhao at last laid eyes again on the royal city of Khotan.

It had been three full years and eight months since he left here in early 932 to march north and attack Shule before he finally returned.

Thinking it over, he really had worked himself to the bone: in those three years and eight months, without pausing for breath, he had fought his way in a circle through Shule, Suyab, Ningyuan, Bukhara, Hucheng, and India. Even the 996 wage-slaves of later ages could hardly have done more!

By the Yulong River, the great river encircling the royal city of Khotan had entered its dry season, and in many places the riverbed lay exposed. In the past, the riverbed would certainly have been full of people.

For the famous Khotan jade was originally gathered from the river: the alpine snowmelt washed raw jade ore down from the high mountains, and people had only to pick it up from the river.

But today, no one was in the mood to gather jade. More than ten days earlier, everyone had received word that the Deputy King of the Great Jin Kingdom, Great King Zhang, would return to the royal city of Khotan today.

The news spread like a warm winter wind across the whole of Anjun Prefecture, where the royal city of Khotan lay.

From the Great Sage Son of Heaven and the princes and nobles above, down to peddlers, porters, and passing merchants below, more than fifty thousand people surged from every direction to the banks of the Yulong River where Great King Zhang would enter the city.

There was no room left to stand along the roadsides, so many people simply stood waiting in the icy shallows of the riverbed. This was the cold tenth month of winter, and standing directly in the river water still required considerable resolve.

"He's coming! He's coming!" No one knew where the cheering began, but the crowd rose on tiptoe and craned their necks, straining to look into the distance.

Before long, dust and smoke blotted out the sun in the distance, and the faint sound of orderly marching footsteps could be heard.

Then, on the left, a Khotan banner bearing a human body with a rat's head and the Rat King; on the right, a red banner with the sun, moon, and stars; and in the center, a great vermilion banner with the black character "Zhang" — all appeared before everyone's eyes.

At once, cheers exploded like thunder. Li Shengtian shook off the restraining hands of the attendants beside him, took the hand of his queen, Cao Yuanxin, and the two exchanged a smile.

Li Shengtian lifted the hem of his ceremonial robe with his left hand, while Cao Yuanxin took up the skirt of her queen's robes with her right, and the pair broke into a jog forward.

The moment they moved, whether pot-bellied nobles, sturdy officers and soldiers, or ordinary farmers, merchants, and weavers — men and women, old and young — all cheered with even louder voices.

"Erlang! Erlang, you've finally come back!" After more than two years apart, Li Shengtian had grown somewhat more prosperous-looking. He had always tended toward plumpness, and with these years of success, his figure had become harder and harder to keep in check.

"Uncle!" Zhang Zhao shouted back. He reined in his warhorse at a distance, swung nimbly down from the saddle, and spread his arms wide as he ran toward Li Shengtian.

There was no kneeling or prostration, nor any staged display of "I, the emperor, remove the general's battle robe." The two men, like an ordinary uncle and nephew who had not seen each other for years, embraced tightly.

"Erlang has grown thinner still; the campaigns must have been hard on you. As for your uncle, my heart is at ease and my body has grown stout — I've put on several dozen jin!" After the embrace, Li Shengtian looked a little embarrassed.

Zhang Zhao had gone from the fair-skinned pretty boy who first came to Khotan to the man before him now: a middle-aged man with resolute eyes, dark, sun-bronzed skin, and a face weathered by wind and frost.

Yet he, the Son of Heaven of a whole kingdom, had instead grown pot-bellied. Most of the territory his nephew had conquered belonged to him, after all.

"Does Uncle still remember what you said to your nephew outside Polu Prefecture back then? You said we uncle and nephew are one body; that I am your only nephew, and you are the only uncle I have left in this world; that we share fortune and misfortune and will never doubt each other."

Zhang Zhao still was not used to two men holding hands, so instead he draped an arm over Li Shengtian's shoulders. The two of them looked like a pair of tourists doing period-costume cosplay by the Yulong River.

"Erlang actually still remembers all that!" Li Shengtian sniffled twice and sighed with some emotion.

"In this great world before us, there is a share that belongs to you as well. Whatever you wish to do, your uncle will support you!"

"Son of Heaven, let Erlang enter the city. So many people are watching!" Cao Yuanxin's cheek twitched. She knew, of course, what Li Shengtian's words meant: the Khotan Jin Kingdom was going to throw its full support behind Zhang Zhao's return to Dunhuang to seize power!

"Aunt, your radiance far surpasses what it once was!" Zhang Zhao then turned and gave Cao Yuanxin a solemn bow with clasped hands, though his face still wore a teasing grin.

Cao Yuanxin shot him a glare and pointed at him with a slender, fair finger.

"You never do have a proper manner. But it's fortunate you've come back. His Grace the Great King has been bedridden for more than two months now. In a while, there will also be someone from Dunhuang who wants to see you. Let's enter the city first!"

This return to the city was far grander than the last time, when he had come to Khotan with the envoys of the Guiyi Army.

The road was spread with yellow earth, and though it was already the tenth month, flower petals drifted through the sky as if they cost nothing, while a surging tide of people lined both sides, packing the road back to the city so tightly that not a drop of water could pass.

What was more, this had not been organized by Khotan officials; the people had come of their own accord.

The reason for such excitement could be seen simply from the population of the royal city of Khotan. This city, which originally had eighty or ninety thousand people, now held at most fifty or sixty thousand.

Where had the rest gone? They had gone to Shule and Ningyuan to live better lives.

Under the current policy of the Khotan Jin Kingdom, any able-bodied man willing to go farm in Ningyuan was given thirty mu; a strong woman was given twenty mu; even the old and weak received ten mu.

And this referred to already-developed cultivated land. If one took half cultivated land and half newly reclaimed land, the acreage doubled, and taxes were uniformly waived for three full years.

As for those who remained in the kingdom, because Khotan had waged war on a large scale these years, the grain they grew, the cloth they wove, and even the small implements they helped forge for the army and the various military rations they produced could all be sold for good money.

At the same time, spoils from outside kept being shipped back, guaranteeing the supply of all kinds of goods.

Just from driving off Bughra Khan, hundreds of thousands of sheep had been captured. Mutton in Khotan was now so cheap it was nearly the price of vegetables, and the dining table was more than a generation more abundant than before.

In this Khotan Jin Kingdom of only six or seven hundred thousand people, after Zhang Zhao had conquered so much territory, it could be said that everyone benefited and everyone had a share of the glory.

This was the reason they sincerely supported Zhang Zhao and warmly welcomed his return.

"Great King, Great King, have a pingpo fruit! This old man saved it specially for you!"

"Great King, drink a bowl of wine brewed by this old woman! I put in plenty of sugar."

"Great King, this servant's cheese-roasted lamb chops are the finest in the royal city — you must try them!"

He had not even passed through the city gate tunnel, and apart from being covered head to toe in flower petals, Zhang Zhao had already lost count of how many melons and fruits he had eaten and how many bowls of fine wine he had drunk.

Now a big, stout fellow blocked his way again. This cheese-roasted lamb chop weighed at least two or three jin, golden in color, fragrant, and still hot.

"Great King, this servant roasted it right by the roadside, so it's still piping hot!" The big fellow looked at Zhang Zhao, so excited that his speech was tripping over itself.

"That's right, Great King! Hu Sanlang paid a fortune to rent that shopfront by the gate just to roast lamb chops!" someone called out teasingly from the side.

"Very well! I'll eat this lamb chop of yours!" Zhang Zhao laughed heartily, took it, and bit off a great mouthful.

"Fat and lean in perfect proportion; the lean meat is crisp, the fat fragrant but not greasy, the cheese rich, the pepper-salt well seasoned. It's roasted well — but his advertising is even better!"

The crowd around him did not quite understand the meaning at first, but they all instantly grasped what Zhang Zhao meant, and at once burst into roaring laughter.

Hu Sanlang wore a shameless grin and did not mind in the least. As long as the Great King said it was delicious, his signboard was made.

"Sanlang, my son! How have you grown so thin and lean? You must have suffered quite a bit, haven't you?"

"Wulang, you've finally come back. Father passed away before the new year! Wuwuwu!"

"Ma Sanlang, have you earned enough silver to marry this old lady yet?"

Ma Sanlang, sitting on his horse, turned bright red, wanting to speak but not daring to. Zhang Zhao turned around to look at this junior fire captain of the Palace Guard Army.

"Someone's asking you a question. Answer!"

"How could it not be enough! The silver this old man has earned is more than enough to marry both you and your sister!"

Damn! Zhang Zhao nearly threw out his back. Ma Sanlang looked so honest and simple, but his tricks and appetites were truly not small!

Zhang Zhao looked back at the ranks behind him. This journey had taken years! The beauties at home had waited until they were frantic, parents had waited until their hair turned white, and some had been parted from their loved ones by death itself. Now that they were finally home, to say their hearts were flying back like arrows was no exaggeration at all.

"Let us remove our armor here! Bring forth the heroic spirits!" Zhang Zhao decided not to go on to the Five Phoenix Tower. He would disband the ranks right here and let the soldiers whose families were in the royal city go home and rest. But before that, the heroic spirits of the war dead had to be sent home first.

As for calling them heroic spirits — by the burial customs of the Han people at this time, they probably truly were only spirits now, because from so far away, the bodies certainly could not be brought back. All that could be returned was their ashes.

Fortunately, there were not many, because the several hundred who had died at Suyab, the several hundred who had died outside Juzhanti, and the three hundred-odd at the Khyber Pass had already been transported back to Khotan earlier. What was being brought back now were those who had fallen on the battlefields of India.

In truth, not many had actually died in battle, because the Ah San's fighting ability was too low, and there were also auxiliary troops to use.

Of the hundred-odd who had died, only twenty-some had fallen in combat. Most had died of illness — after all, they had marched several thousand kilometers in one stretch, and far too many had suffered from the change of climate and water.

A group of eminent Buddhist monks chanted the Buddha's name, and the direct commanding officers of the fallen heroes came forward bearing the ash urns.

Zhang Zhao took a step back, his heart somewhat heavy. Besides, there was no need to steal Li Shengtian's thunder at a moment like this.

Low sobbing weighed down everyone's hearts, though no one wailed to the heavens or beat the ground.

Because word of the deaths had long since been sent down, and the compensation had long since been paid in full. Now it was only a matter of returning the ash urns of the heroic spirits.

Watching Li Shengtian receive the families of the fallen at the front, and even make an exception by granting each fallen man an extra ten strings of cash in compensation, Zhang Zhao found himself missing home all the more.

Khotan was good, but it was not his homeland. His homeland, the place where he had built his career, was still far away!

"Erlang! Come look — who is this?" Cao Yuanxin had keenly sensed Zhang Zhao's slight despondency, and was all the more pleased that he had not tried to steal Li Shengtian's thunder. She tugged at Zhang Zhao's sleeve and drew him a little toward the back.

In the corner, a little beauty in a plain, elegant cream-colored jacket and skirt, with a tender yellow floral ornament painted on her forehead, was gazing at Zhang Zhao demurely.

Her eyes glistened, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile, like a virtuous wife waiting for her husband to come home.

"Sanniangzi!" Zhang Zhao cried out before he could stop himself. This lovely little beauty was none other than Cao Sanniangzi, Cao Yannai, whom he had not seen for more than four years.

Cao Sanniangzi looked at Zhang Zhao. That Zhang Erlang who had been like a newborn calf in the Qi Xiahu stronghold had now become a true man.

His skin was not so fair anymore, but his body was much sturdier, and he seemed to have grown quite a bit taller. The lines of his face were harder than before, with something of the chiseled maturity of a grown man.

"Erlang, it's been so long... ah!" Cao Sanniangzi was still thinking about how to strike up a conversation with Zhang Zhao, but Zhang Zhao simply pulled her into his arms.

In his embrace, Sanniangzi was both shy and uneasy. Their relationship back then could be called very close, but four years had passed since then.

Back then, although she was likewise seven years older than Zhang Zhao, she had at least still been in her twenties.

But now, though still as lovely as ever, she was already thirty-two. In this era, that was enough for her to call herself an old woman.

Zhang Erlang was now renowned across Anxi, Transoxiana, and India. What kind of woman could he not have?

Even that former Khaganid queen Cao Yanmian, who had been entered into the Cao clan genealogy, was no less than her in either former status or looks, and was far younger besides. Who knew whether Zhang Erlang would still think of her?

And yet, while she was still hesitating in her heart, Zhang Zhao had actually embraced her directly, in full public view.

Bold and sharp-tongued as Cao Sanniangzi was, she was still so startled that her whole body went rigid and she could not speak.

"Don't move!" Zhang Zhao murmured softly, holding the small, soft figure before him tightly in his arms.

Breathing in the faint orchid fragrance of Cao Sanniangzi's hair, Zhang Zhao's soul found immense comfort, as if he had truly come home. It had been so very long since he had felt this way.

Hearing this, the rigid Cao Sanniangzi also sensed Zhang Zhao's emotions, and her body slowly softened.

She wrapped her arms around Zhang Zhao in return, and for some reason, tears came streaming from her eyes, pouring down her face.

In a daze, two figures flashed through her mind. That Suo Sanlang, whose face she could no longer clearly remember, suddenly became vivid.

The image of her late husband Murong Changdao holding her hand, telling her to live well and raise Xinzhang'er, appeared before her eyes as if it were happening right now.

"Sanniangzi! When we return to Dunhuang, marry me!" Zhang Zhao said in a muffled voice.

Having transmigrated here, he had always felt a slight sense of unreality, as if all of this were something like playing a game.

But today, after meeting Cao Sanniangzi again after more than four years apart, that feeling of familiarity and reassurance — the feeling of belonging to the human world — instantly filled his soul.

"Mm!" Cao Sanniangzi, her eyes brimming with tears, nodded like a kitten. In her heart she was very happy, because Zhang Zhao had used the word "marry," which meant she would be entering the Zhang household as a secondary wife.

Although the institution of the secondary wife had become rare after the Later Han, it was not entirely gone.

Moreover, Zhang Zhao's principal wife was her own younger sister Cao Yanxi, so for her to enter as a secondary wife was perfectly proper.

But then Cao Sanniangzi suddenly broke into a smile.

"If Erlang wants to marry me, I fear there is still one hurdle he must pass!"

"What kind of hurdle? Could it stump me, Zhang Erlang?"

Zhang Zhao asked, full of high spirits. Was Sanniangzi talking about her father-in-law Murong Guiying, or her father Cao Yuanshen? Neither was a problem!

Cao Sanniangzi giggled, and a few sly little dimples of baby fat flickered across her face.

"My Xinzhang'er is now sixteen. Do you suppose he would be happy to have a father who is only eight years older than him?"

Uh! Zhang Zhao froze. To be honest, never mind Murong Xinzhang — he himself was not ready to play father to a rebellious sixteen-year-old boy in the throes of adolescence!

"Pfft!" Cao Yuanxin, who had made a group of guards stand behind them to screen the two from view, could not help laughing out loud.

Zhang Zhao woke in the morning to someone pinching his nose. Before he could even get angry, a chubby little thing stepped directly onto his nose.

Hm? Why does it feel like a tiny foot?

Great King Zhang opened his eyes in fury. Who dared be so bold as to plant a foot on the nose of me, Great King Zhang, Khagan, Dharma King — omitting a hundred characters' worth of titles?

And it was quite brazen too. Not only was the little foot planted on his nose, but the owner of the little foot seemed to find the surface rather uneven, and was babbling and spraying spittle to express its displeasure.

"You little brat, we've only just met, and you're already trying to put me in my place, is that it?" Zhang Zhao grinned and lightly patted the little bottom of the foot's owner.

At that moment, someone came hurrying in through the door, carrying another fair, chubby little baby in her arms.

She glanced at Zhang Zhao somewhat timidly, set down the baby in her hands, and moved to lift down the other chubby baby, who was holding onto the headboard and still trying to plant its little foot on Zhang Zhao's head.

But just as she reached toward the baby holding the headboard, Zhang Zhao — now freed from the little foot's control — pulled her into his arms, then slipped his large hand lightly inside her collar.

Ayiguli let out a soft hiss, and at once leaned against Zhang Zhao's chest with eyes like silk, before blushing and lowering her head.

"Khagan! The children are watching!"

"Where's Guo Wan'er? Come in here and carry these two little ones out. You should learn a thing or two!"

"Great King, all you know is how to bully me! Hmph! One day I'll have two at once — no, three!"

The little wildcat of the Guo family, who had never managed to conceive, walked in huffily and carried the two chubby babies out, one in each arm.

The older one was a boy — the second son Ayiguli had borne Zhang Zhao. He was the one who had just been trampling all over my Great King Zhang's face with his little foot.

The smaller one was a girl, the eldest daughter Cao Yannian of the Cao family had borne for Zhang Zhao. Like her mother, she was gentle and quiet, and a little timid.

Both children had been conceived when Zhang Zhao left, and only saw their father after several months had passed.

Zhang Zhao did not feel much toward them yet; after all, he could not even call himself familiar with them, nor did he feel any bond of blood.

But when the two little ones babbled and shrieked, he did not find it annoying in the least. Even when a tiny foot stepped on his face, Zhang Zhao felt no discomfort at all; instead, his heart felt at ease.

Ah! Great King Zhang had not even prepared himself to be a father, and already he was the father of three children.

And these two were the better off. Over with the Zhongyun queen Li Ruoliu there was an eldest son, already past three years old, whom he had never even seen. As a father, he truly was rather negligent.

As Zhang Zhao pondered this, his hands slowed.

Beneath him, Ayiguli gave the Great Khagan a strange look, then suddenly gritted her teeth, arched her back, and threw Zhang Zhao off her. Then she pounced on him like a wolf or a tiger.

Last night Cao Yannian had attended him in bed, and in the middle of the night the little wildcat Guo Wan'er had run over too. She had stayed away to look after the two little ones, but now that the Great King was about to return to Dunhuang, she had to seize the time.

The sun was already three poles high. Great King Zhang clutched his waist and sucked in cold air as he walked out of the deputy-king palace Li Shengtian had built specially for him. To return to Dunhuang as soon as possible, Zhang Zhao now had to seize every moment.

At the Suomoruo Temple, Zhang Zhao, dressed in a loose black monastic robe, walked slowly in through the main gate.

Before he entered through the main gate, the monks of Suomoruo Temple had arranged cranes, auspicious elephants, and other creatures to lead the way, slowly guiding him to the temple.

And the main gate of Suomoruo Temple, shut all year round, was opened at this moment for the first time in memory.

This gate was normally kept closed. Pilgrims and worshippers never used it. There was a special term for it: the "gate of emptiness" in "escaping into emptiness," referring to this main gate of a temple, used to signify shaving one's head to become a monk and serve the Buddha.

That is to say, only those leaving home to become monks would enter through this gate on specific occasions.

The term "Dharma-protecting Sangharama" was not a casual phrase in Buddhism either.

Legend said Buddhism had eighteen Sangharamas, such as Brahma-sound and Thunder-sound, but these were all gods and Buddhas of legend. In China's thousands of years of history, the only truly embodied Buddhist Dharma-protecting Sangharama was one man: Guan Yunchang, Second Master Guan.

And the reason Second Master Guan could become a Dharma-protecting Sangharama owed much to the founder of the Tiantai school of Buddhism, the Venerable Zhizhe.

This man was no ordinary figure. Setting aside the later status of the Tiantai school within Buddhism, the veneration later generations held for the Venerable Zhizhe alone showed how lofty his standing was.

Later generations honored this Venerable Zhizhe, whose lay surname was Chen, as the "Shakyamuni of the East," calling him the reincarnation of Shakyamuni Buddha in the land of China.

Such a status was certainly beyond what the Tripitaka Master Sengjialuomo could compare to. This was also why the old monk Sengjialuomo had told Zhang Zhao to come to Suomoruo Temple when the time was ripe.

Because before this, Sengjialuomo's promise to Zhang Zhao had been, to a large extent, a con.

Uh! Calling it a con may not be entirely accurate. It should be called dangling a big pie in front of him.

Because according to Sengjialuomo's calculations, the city of Shule was so strong that several generations of Khotan's kings had been unable to do anything about it.

Although Zhang Zhao had the divine fire-thunder, people who had never seen the power of gunpowder could hardly imagine how fearsome the stuff was.

Sengjialuomo thought that no matter how great the power, it could at most blast a hole in Khotan's city wall.

And if it could only blast a hole, the final battle would still need Li Shengtian to lead the Khotan army to settle.

In that case, although Zhang Zhao would have rendered great service, even the foremost service, it would still be only a single merit.

In the end, he himself could present a contingent of monk-soldiers, add some weapons, equipment, cloth, grain, and money, and that would be enough to send him off.

What he never expected was that Zhang Zhao would be so ferocious. Not only did he blast down the walls of Shule, he nearly took the city of Shule relying only on the few thousand men under his command.

In the entire battle of Shule, the greatest actual role of the Khotan army was merely taking the mutually supporting Askisa Fort and Yusuf Fort outside the city.

And the later battle of Lower Atush was even more astonishing. Zhang Zhao personally led a little over three thousand men and, alone outside the city of Lower Atush, routed the twenty thousand iron cavalry led personally by Bughra Khan Satuq.

These were true iron cavalry, not herdsmen rounded up to make up numbers, but the iron cavalry on which the Kara-Khanid state depended for survival.

The loss of Satuq's three hundred Ghulam household armored cavalry in particular directly extinguished the future of the Kara-Khanid state.

Faced with such peerless merit, Sengjialuomo was utterly unprepared, and in an instant he was backed into a corner. But Sengjialuomo had no intention of reneging, because there was no way to renege.

This time Zhang Zhao had crushed the Kara-Khanid state, not only helping the kingdom of Khotan break open an almost unsolvable situation — one must know that before Sengjialuomo became a monk, he had been a close collateral member of the Yuchi royal clan of Khotan.

Zhang Zhao had not only won a glorious future for the Khotan royal house, he had also saved Buddhism, which in Shule and even in the Kara-Khanid state had been on the verge of total extermination.

With such great merit, such great kindness, would you dare go back on your word?

So as one of the pillars of Anxi Buddhism, the Tripitaka Master Sengjialuomo, upon learning that Zhang Zhao would soon return, sent out "hero invitations" far and wide, paying out of his own pocket to invite people from all over.

His own prestige was not enough to "enlighten" someone into a Buddhist Dharma-protecting Sangharama, so he would let everyone come and acknowledge it.

Amid solemn and majestic Buddhist sutra chanting, more than twenty famous Anxi Buddhist temples — including the Yuechang Tianshan Temple of Khotan, the Dayun Temple of Shule, the Subashi Temple of Kucha, the West Temple Buddhist Temple, the Great Guanyin Temple of Gaochang, the Kaiyuan Temple of Yanqi, the Kaiyuan Temple of Yizhou, the Guanyin Temple of Shazhou, and the Lingyuan Temple — all sent eminent monks here to certify Zhang Zhao as a Dharma-protecting Sangharama of Buddhism.

But! Their information was truly outdated. How could a mere Dharma-protecting Sangharama possibly fill the appetite of our Silver Wheel Dharma King?

Zhang Zhao deliberately kept quiet, precisely so that on such an occasion he could force these eminent monks of Anxi's famous great temples to endorse his identity as the Silver Wheel Dharma King.

And so, just as Master Sengjialuomo was about to begin certifying Zhang Zhao as a Buddhist Dharma-protecting Sangharama, drums and music suddenly erupted outside the gate.

The assembled eminent monks of Anxi Buddhism looked at Master Sengjialuomo in confusion. Master Sengjialuomo, puzzled, had someone open the temple gate that had already been shut. What he saw utterly stunned him.

Dozens of life-size statues of Shakyamuni Buddha, Guanyin Bodhisattva, and other Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, large and small, were carried in by people, accompanied by the chanting of more than three hundred eminent monks from India.

One eminent Indian monk even led dozens of Indian laborers, carrying in a mountain of sutras.

When they heard of the handwritten copy of the Yogacarabhumi-sastra by Tang Sanzang, the assembled eminent monks were somewhat numb, but still able to hold themselves together.

But when the Mahavairocana Sutra and the Vajrasekhara Sutra, handwritten by King Prasenajit — Shakyamuni Buddha's closest friend and disciple — appeared, Sengjialuomo felt the world spinning around him.

Of course, when he finally saw Zhang Zhao walk out, remove his black robe, and put on the full robes, golden seal, golden charter, and silver wheel of the Wheel-Turning King and Silver Wheel Dharma King,

along with the certification sutras of Nalanda Temple, Vikramashila Temple, and Odantapuri Temple, he was completely stupefied. He had almost lost all ability to think.

"Master! Are you saying that this man is the Silver Wheel Dharma King of Buddhism — the one who saved Indian Buddhism, rebuilt the earthly Buddhist kingdom, was recognized by all of Indian Buddhism, and attained enlightenment at Vulture Peak, the Spirit Vulture Mountain of the Buddha?"

Master Sengjialuomo had truly had his eyes opened wide. Trembling, he asked Master Baoyunzi of Nalanda Temple before him in Sanskrit.

"Exactly. The Dharma King is the savior of the earthly Buddhist kingdom. Without the Dharma King, Buddhism would surely have been destroyed by the heretics!"

Master Baoyunzi's answer was also very skillful. He had not lied! Without the dynasty, Buddhism, given that momentum, would surely have been destroyed sooner or later — just not immediately.

"Master Sengjialuomo! These life-size statues were made to the exact dimensions of the Buddha himself, under the supervision of the Golden Wheel Dharma King, King Ashoka.

These sutras are treasures Nalanda Temple has preserved for a thousand years. As the Silver Wheel Dharma King of Buddhism, I intend to have these priceless holy objects circulated and displayed among the various temples, so that each temple may gaze upon the light of the Buddha. What do you think?"

This was not asking "what do you think" at all. It was entirely asking: do you want them or not? If you want them, then of course you must acknowledge Zhang Zhao's status as the Silver Wheel Dharma King.

"This... this humble monk... pays respects to the Dharma King!" He had thought today would be his own stage, but a dragon crossing the river had suddenly slapped him in the face — and then he actually found himself quite wanting the dragon's things.

And if he did not take them, plenty of others would be willing to. This extremely twisted psychological feeling was probably the conflicted state of Master Sengjialuomo's heart at this moment.

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