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It seems that the man named Gongsun from back then kept his promise. He saw the princess one last time, and then committed suicide in front of her coffin.

Since the man in the hallucination is real, then the story in the hallucination must also be real. In summary, the princess's story is that her family fell into decline, and she was chosen as a princess for a political marriage, sent far away to the borderlands. Gongsun, the man she grew up with and deeply loved, followed her to Xiye, where they secretly met. However, one day, their secret rendezvous was discovered by King Zihe of Xiye. Gongsun killed the king and fled. Knowing her sins were grave, the princess committed suicide in the palace. To appease the people, the princess's maidservant used her corpse as bait to lure Gongsun to the tomb, forcing him to commit suicide.

This is a sad and clichéd story. She had seen the same plot in countless novels and TV dramas, but why did she feel so strange? It was as if a huge stone was lodged in her chest, making her feel suffocated.

Deep within her heart, it seemed as if a voice was crying out.

This is not the truth! No!

She froze again. Why did she have such thoughts? Wasn't Princess Zhaoling's story already quite clear? Was there still something unclear about the story?

"What are you looking at?" Situ Xiang walked over, and he clearly sensed her change. Upon seeing the corpse, she seemed to have become a completely different person.

"No, it's nothing," she murmured, the light on her face gradually dimming. Should she continue searching in this story? Even if she had those memories, even if Zhaoling might be her past life, so what? She was just herself, just the person she was now, and everything in the past had nothing to do with her!

She wants to leave this place! As long as she can get out, she will find a way to leave the desert and return to her city immediately, never to come to the Western Regions again.

"What's wrong with you?" Situ Xiang placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you possessed?"

"Don't touch me!" Yin Li suddenly shouted, startling even Situ Xiang into taking a step back.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here! You beast!" She suddenly became agitated and slapped him. Situ Xiang grabbed her wrist tightly. She struggled desperately against his grip, roaring, "I had nothing to do with this! It was you! It was you! Because of these pieces of junk in this tomb, you've made me like this! There's no way out of here! I don't want to die here with you! I don't want to!"

She screamed hysterically as she desperately pounded on the man in front of her. If she could, she would kill him right now!

Situ Xiang said nothing, letting her rage on. When she was tired of hitting him and began to sob softly, he slowly said, "I didn't want to involve you, but fate is cruel."

"Excuse!"

"Think what you want." Situ Xiang released his hand and said, "Now is not the time to cry. Why don't you take a look at this? Maybe you can find a way out."

"What?" Yin Li choked up as she looked up, her hair disheveled in front of her eyes, her eyes red and swollen like peaches.

“Look,” he said, “on the four walls.”

28. Buddhist paintings in ancient tombs

Yin Li looked around and gasped in shock. Murals! Besides the entrance, the other three walls were adorned with brightly colored murals. The figures in the paintings were lifelike, and the numerous decorative patterns were exquisitely beautiful. Three Buddhist stories seemed to leap off the walls at first glance.

Yin Li was very familiar with these three stories: the story of King Vilokhairi nailing a thousand nails; the story of King Sibi cutting off his own flesh to save a dove; and the story of King Chandrakirti giving his head to a person.

She brushed aside the stray hairs covering her eyes and examined the murals closely. She had once been fascinated by Buddhist stories, having read them in Buddhist scriptures. Seeing these murals now stirred her emotions; she felt a slight warmth in her chest and her heart pounded with excitement.

"Are these murals based on legends of the Western Regions?" Situ Xiang asked, seemingly unfamiliar with Western Region culture. "What stories are they?"

“These aren’t legends, but stories from Buddhist scriptures.” Yin Li’s mood seemed to instantly improve when she spoke of Buddhist tales. She walked to the painting of King Sibi cutting off his own flesh to save a dove and patiently explained, “This story is called King Sibi Cutting Off His Own Flesh to Save a Dove. Legend has it that the king of Jambudvipa, a great kingdom in right India, was named Sibi. He was a kind-hearted and virtuous ruler. One day, after finishing his court duties, he sat down to rest in a pavilion. Suddenly, a snow-white dove flew by, crying out in panic for help, while a fierce eagle chased after it closely.”

King Sibi quickly put the white dove that flew in into his robes. In the blink of an eye, the eagle arrived, its bloodshot eyes demanding the dove be returned, for it was starving. King Sibi refused, telling it that he had sworn to save all living beings and would not allow the dove to be eaten. The eagle persisted, saying that if it loved all living beings, why save the dove and not its own? If it didn't eat the dove, it would starve. To save the dove, King Sibi cut flesh from his own thigh and gave it to the eagle. The eagle, however, demanded that the flesh weigh as much as the dove. King Sibi then had his servant bring a balance scale and placed the dove on the scale pan. But even with all his flesh, the king's weight was insufficient to weigh the dove. To save the dove and feed the eagle, to fulfill his promise, he endured excruciating pain and stood up, intending to sit on the scale and offer his entire body. But his strength gave way, and he fainted.

The cries of the queen and ministers awakened King Sibi. He struggled to his feet, enduring the pain, and sat down on the scale, where he weighed exactly the same as the white dove.

"At that moment, a miracle occurred—the earth shook violently, the palace swayed, and colorful flowers rained down from the heavens. The eagles and doves vanished in the blink of an eye. The flesh that King Sibi had cut off grew back onto his body, perfectly intact, and he felt no pain."

"It turns out that the white dove was transformed from Indra, and the eagle was transformed from Vishnu. They used this method to test King Sibi's steadfast sincerity towards the Buddha and towards saving all sentient beings."

"The mural you see now depicts King Sibi cutting off his own flesh. Look, there's also a balance scale here."

As soon as she finished speaking, Situ Xiang sneered and said, "Does this King Sibi really think he's a god? He cut off all the flesh from his own body, yet he couldn't survive. Doesn't he have a life of his own? If he dies, it's still saving one life and harming another. Is this what they call Buddhism?"

Yin Li frowned and said, "So, you think it's wrong to sacrifice yourself for others?"

"There's nothing wrong with sacrificing oneself for others, but his mistake was interfering with the eagle's hunting. Eagles need to eat other animals to survive; that's the law of nature. Even if King Sibi saved this pigeon, the eagle would still eat another pigeon for its next meal. How much meat does King Sibi have to feed the eagle?"

Yin Li was taken aback; she had never considered this question before. After careful thought, it seemed there was some truth to what he said. Suppressing her doubts, she walked to another mural. This mural depicted a king sitting cross-legged, his expression resolute. Beside him stood a figure with wide-open eyes, holding a nail in his left hand and a hammer raised high in his right, his expression vivid, as if about to strike. At the king's feet, countless women and young people wept bitterly; the entire scene was overflowing with a tragic emotion.

She pointed to the painting and said, "This story is about King Virokari driving a thousand nails. Legend has it that a king named Virokari, wanting to learn and diligently practice Buddhism, decreed that anyone in the kingdom who could speak of Buddhist principles would be given whatever they wanted, without fail. A Brahmin named Ratnāksha, who harbored a grudge against King Virokari, heard this news and saw it as an opportunity for revenge. He devised a deceptive story, went to the palace, and told the king that he understood Buddhism. The king warmly invited him into the palace and asked him to sit beside him so he could preach. But Ratnāksha asked the king what reward he could receive. The king said he would give him anything, except that he wished to have a thousand nails driven into the king's body. The king granted his request, promising to fulfill his promise in seven days. During this time, the king's twenty thousand wives, five hundred princes, and ten thousand ministers wept and begged him not to." He had been tricked by a wicked man, yet he still decided to keep his promise. Seven days later, Ratnāksha came to the palace and told the king that nothing in the world is permanent; the poor can become rich, and the rich can become poor. All living beings suffer, just as nails are driven into flesh—this was his Buddhist principle. After speaking, he gritted his teeth and drove a thousand nails into the king's body. The ministers, relatives, and common people who witnessed this covered their eyes, unable to bear the sight, and wailed loudly, their cries like thunder, tears streaming down their faces. The cries startled the gods in the upper realm, who looked down and saw that King Virokari had sacrificed himself for the Dharma. Indra, disguised as a human, asked the king if he regretted it, and the king said he did not. As soon as he finished speaking, a miracle occurred: all the nails in the king's body fell to the ground, the bleeding stopped instantly, and his flesh was completely healed. Immediately, the king, nobles, and common people cheered and spread the news, and celebratory drums and music resounded throughout the capital.

Situ Xiang listened to her finish speaking in silence, then gave a cold laugh without making any comment.

Yin Li found his smile very awkward, frowned, and walked to the last mural. The painting depicted a tall, headless person holding a tray with three human heads on it.

"Once upon a time, there was a king of handsome appearance, gentle nature, and kindness. His palace shone like a bright moon day and night. Therefore, people respectfully called him 'Moonlight King.' Moonlight King ruled over 84,000 small kingdoms, where the people lived in peace and the treasury was abundant. However, fearing that some people might lack food and clothing, he would give alms once a year. In the bustling streets of the royal city, he piled up treasures, clothing, and food for everyone to take freely. He also worried that some people in the smaller kingdoms might be poor, so he issued a decree ordering the kings of the smaller kingdoms to open their treasuries and give alms to their people. Everyone received the king's grace and lived in unparalleled joy. Moonlight King's fame spread far and wide. One king of a small kingdom, dissatisfied with him and unwilling to part with his wealth to give to the poor, summoned a Brahmin to kill him." King Moonlight. Before this Brahmin even arrived in the capital, news of his impending head-taking had spread throughout the land. Upon his arrival, the minister Mahakasyapa presented him with a head inlaid with gold and silver jewels, pleading with him not to take King Moonlight's head, which he refused. King Moonlight agreed to take the head, agreeing to act seven days later. Seven days later, the Brahmin indeed came to take his head. In the back garden, willow branches bound his hands and feet, preventing him from killing King Moonlight. He begged the willow branches to release the Brahmin, saying he had already given away nine hundred and ninety-nine heads, and that giving away just one more would grant him Buddhahood. The willow branches released the Brahmin, who then took his head. King Moonlight thus achieved perfect merit. The Brahmin, however, was punished by heaven.

"Indeed, it sounds beautiful," Situ Xiang said calmly. "It's just a pity that the Moonlight King's actions are condoning evil. Sometimes appropriate punishment is necessary, otherwise it will only allow evil people to become a menace. In the end, his kindness failed to reform this Brahmin. If it weren't for the so-called divine punishment, this murderer would still be at large, and who knows how many more innocent people would die at his hands in the future!"

Yin Li frowned even more deeply. She knew he was right, but a surge of anger still rose within her. She snorted coldly and said, "With your status, do you have the right to say such things?"

Situ Xiang was taken aback, his expression immediately darkening, his eyes filled with complex emotions, a strange light reflecting in his icy green pupils. Yin Li had to admit that she couldn't see through that gaze.

"Don't you find it strange?" Situ Xiang changed the subject with a cold gesture. "If the coffin really contained Princess Zhaoling's body, then why would there be murals like this in her tomb? Shouldn't they depict her life story? Isn't that illogical?"

Yin Li was stunned. Indeed! In ordinary ancient tombs, the murals in the main burial chamber usually depict portraits of the deceased or record their life story in writing. But here, the murals are different. Could it be that Princess Zhaoling will attain Buddhahood after death? But Princess Zhaoling committed suicide, and her death was far from honorable. According to Buddhism, she would go to hell. Could the three tortures depicted in the murals be the punishments she would suffer after death? That doesn't make sense either, since it was her son who built her tomb. As a son, how could he curse his mother to hell?

Thinking about it this way, it is indeed quite strange. Could these murals have had some other, more important purpose?

She walked slowly to the jade coffin and peered at the sleeping princess through the bluish-green stone. She didn't know what kind of jade it was, but she could see the body through the coffin lid. Although not entirely transparent, she could still make out about six or seven parts of it.

The princess lay peacefully in the coffin, a faint smile playing on her lips. But for some reason, Yin Li felt that the smile was somewhat eerie, not something a normal person would display in a normal manner. She followed the princess's face down, her gaze suddenly freezing as she stared intently at her neck, feeling as if her entire body was immersed in ice water, chilling her to the bone.

"What's wrong?" Situ Xiang noticed her strange expression and quickly came over: "What did you find out?"

“Strangulation marks.” Yin Li’s voice trembled slightly. “There were extremely fine strangulation marks on her neck, very fine, only slightly larger than a zither string, deep into her skin. These were not left by the white silk used for hanging.”

29. The Truth of History

"Not a white silk ribbon?" Situ Xiang was taken aback. Since ancient times, suicide had always been committed with a white silk ribbon. Nothing as thin as a zither string had ever been used. So, does this mean Princess Zhaoling didn't commit suicide?

Yin Li suddenly felt a tightness in her chest, her vision blurred, and the world spun around her. It was as if all the strength in her body had been drained away in that instant, and her body went limp, collapsing against the coffin.

In her hazy consciousness, she seemed to hear someone calling her. Slowly opening her eyes, she found herself standing in a courtyard. The garden was filled with all sorts of strange flowers and plants, and the air was filled with a misty fragrance, making her feel as if she were in a fairyland. She was walking on clouds, feeling so light that she felt as if she had no weight at all.

From behind a patch of datura flowers came faint voices; listening closely, it sounded like a man and a woman. They were speaking a strange language, not modern Mandarin, but rather something like the dialect of southern Fujian. Yin Li had never been to southern Fujian, and had only heard the language in television dramas, but for some reason, she could understand it. Every syllable of that language seemed to enter her brain directly, forming clear Chinese characters.

"Lianglang." A woman's voice, very soft and gentle. Sweet and soothing, it sent a shiver down your spine. "Lianglang, we can't keep meeting like this."

"Ling'er, come with me, I'll take you away from this hellhole." It was a man's voice, very familiar. The face of the man who had died on Princess Zhaoling's coffin immediately flashed into Yin Li's mind.

"Ling'er, the Emperor of Han is unkind to your family. You don't need to make such a great sacrifice for him!"

Yin Li walked over gently, parted the clump of datura flowers in front of her, and sure enough, saw a man and a woman sitting on the grass. The two were snuggled together, looking intimate.

"But...but I am, after all, a citizen of the Han Dynasty. I cannot abandon my country," Zhao Ling murmured, her eyes beginning to glaze over. Yin Li gazed at her face, a sudden sorrow gripping his heart. Why must the weighty responsibility of protecting their homeland be entrusted to such a young woman? Her country had given her nothing, and had even harmed her and her family. Why must she sacrifice herself for the nation? That emperor—how could he even utter such a thing!

Gongsun Liang fell silent. In truth, he couldn't let go of his country either. It was his homeland, the place where he was born and raised. He couldn't abandon it, nor could he do it.

They both fell silent. Were they truly destined never to be together in this life?

Suddenly, a series of heavy, hurried footsteps echoed in the garden. Startled, the two jumped up. Turning around, they saw a man with distinctly Western Region features rushing towards them. He wore luxurious clothing, very similar to Hanfu, with only slight differences in details.

From Yin Li's perspective, the man was quite handsome. He was around forty years old and had a mature, masculine charm, easily comparable to many of today's European and American movie stars.

He rushed up to the two men, his face grim, his finger trembling as he pointed at them, uttering a string of words. These words were neither Mandarin nor a dialect similar to Minnan, and Yin Li couldn't understand them at all, but she could still guess their meaning.

He was questioning his wife about why she was secretly meeting with her lover behind his back!

"Your Majesty, please let me explain!" Princess Zhaoling was on the verge of tears, but Gongsun Liang pulled her into his arms and said coldly, "She is mine. She has been mine since childhood, and we have been betrothed since birth. It was you who stole her from me!"

King Zihe had clearly understood his words, and his face was so gloomy that it made people feel a chill all over their bodies.

With a swift movement, he drew a sword from his waist and pointed it at Gongsun Liang. He said, enunciating each word clearly, "She is mine. If you try to take her away from me, kill me!"

At first, Yin Li didn't find it strange, but when Gongsun Liang also drew his sword, she suddenly froze. She understood? She understood what Prince Zihe said? What was going on?

Before they could think, the two had already started fighting. Zhaoling stood by, crying anxiously, but didn't know what to do. She could only watch them with worried eyes, her heart filled with anxiety.

Zihe Wang's skill was clearly inferior to Gongsun Liang's; within ten moves, the sword in his hand had already flown out of his grasp. Gongsun Liang's sword was now pressed against his throat.

"Now can I take Ling'er away?" Gongsun Liang said coldly.

Prince Zihe turned to look at Zhaoling, but Zhaoling dared not look at him and quickly turned her face away. A trace of despair flashed in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth and said, "Go! You all go! I will tell His Majesty the Emperor that Ling'er is dead."

Gongsun Liang and Zhao Ling were taken aback and exchanged a glance. They had never expected that King Zihe would be so magnanimous.

"Your Majesty, are you telling the truth?" Zhao Ling asked incredulously.

Prince Zihe gazed at her intently, his eyes filled with reluctance, but he said, "Let's go, before I change my mind!"

Upon hearing this, Gongsun Liang was overjoyed. He dropped his sword, grabbed Zhaoling's hand, and ran towards the east side of the garden.

Yin Li stared at Zihe Wang, her mouth agape so wide it could almost fit an orange.

What... what's going on? Wasn't King Zihe killed by Gongsun Liang?

King Zihe watched the two leave, his heart breaking with unbearable pain. After they disappeared from sight, he heard a woman's voice slowly ask, "Your Majesty, are you really going to let the princess go?"

Prince Zihe and Yin Li turned around together and saw a beautiful young woman gracefully approaching. Yin Li recognized her immediately; she was Feng Yuan, a palace maid who had accompanied Princess Zhaoling in her dowry!

“Madam Feng,” said Prince Zihe, “it seems there are no shooting stars tonight.”

"Is that so?" Feng Yuan smiled slightly. "The astrologers must have made a mistake! Your Majesty, are you really going to let the princess go?"

"What good is it if she doesn't leave? Her heart has never been with me." King Zihe said calmly, his voice and expression turning somber. "Perhaps this way she can find happiness."

"Is it enough that she's happy?" Feng Yuan smiled faintly as she slowly walked to the sword that Gongsun Liang had thrown down, bent down to pick it up, and said, "Why are you so devoted to a woman who is not faithful to you? Why don't you even glance at the person who has been in love with you all this time?"

"Madam Feng, what are you saying?" Prince Zihe looked at her strangely. Today, General Gro's wife seemed to be acting differently, extremely strangely.

Before he could finish his question, he suddenly felt a chill in his chest. He looked down at the sword piercing his chest, blood gushing from the wound like a stream, flowing down his luxurious robe.

"Why?" he asked Feng Yuan, looking at her incredulously. "Why is this happening?"

“Your Majesty, rest assured.” Feng Yuan suddenly drew her sword, and Prince Zihe slowly fell down with her body. “I will send the princess down to accompany you. Under Mount Tai, you can be together forever.”

Zihe Wang's body fell heavily to the ground with a dull thud. Feng Yuan held the blood-dripping sword, his face as calm as if he had just plucked a flower.

She threw her sword to the ground and screamed. Then, many people came and went, countless soldiers with ashen faces. Yin Li could hear nothing, she could only see many people running silently, like watching a silent TV drama.

She stood there, stunned, feeling a chill run through her body.

Feng Yuan is truly a terrifying woman.

The surrounding scenery darkened, then immediately brightened. Startled, she turned around. She saw Zhaoling standing in a lavishly furnished room, staring at Feng Yuan with a cold smile and two burly soldiers behind her, tears streaming down her face. At her feet, several palace maids knelt, heads bowed, wiping away tears.

"Feng Yuan, why... why is this happening?" Zhao Ling said tremblingly, "Liang Lang didn't kill Prince Zihe! He didn't kill him!"

"Whether he killed or not is no longer important," Feng Yuan said calmly. "Now everyone in the entire Western Night Kingdom knows that he killed him, and it's because of you, Princess."

“I, I,” Zhao Ling said with a guilty expression, “I, I just want to be happy.”

“Happiness?” Feng Yuan sneered. “Have you forgotten? You are a princess sent for a political marriage, your life is meant to maintain peace between the two countries. Don’t you think asking for happiness is too extravagant?”

"I, I..."

"Princess, King Zihe has been murdered, and the whole nation is in uproar, vowing to find the murderer and tear him to pieces. If we cannot catch the murderer, he will side with the Xiongnu, and then our country will be in danger." She beckoned behind her. A palace maid came over carrying a wooden tray. Zhaoling's face changed after just one glance, turning as white as snow on the Tianshan Mountains.

That's a seven-foot-long white silk ribbon!

"You...you want to kill me?" Zhaoling trembled all over. "Don't forget, I am a princess of the Han Dynasty!"