would I know your name?” she asked icily.
Things were not going as he had hoped and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake after all. “I know your name,” he continued lightly. “You’re Weilin. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Kuang, from Hubei.”
“In that case, I do know your name,” she said. “In fact, I have often heard it mentioned in my father’s house, usually when trouble is discussed. Now I can put a face to the name.”
“Then at least you know my face,” he smiled, hoping to seize a small victory.
“Who wouldn’t know your face? It stands out from the rest, even among the battered faces I see here every day.”
He touched the remains of the scab on his lip before he could stop himself. He was getting nowhere. She clicked her tongue and busied herself with her flowerpots, picking out dead leaves and pouring a little water into each.
“I know your face,” he said finally. “It stands out too, but for a different reason.”
She ignored him.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said, almost to himself.
She looked at him then, waiting for a further remark, but there was none.
“That’s kind of you to say,” she said at last, “but I don’t think so.”
“Oh, it’s true,” he smiled, “believe me.”
“What is it you want, exactly, Kuang?”
“I came to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in the whole of Yulong Fort,” he said with a mischievous smile. Her face hardened. It was hardly a compliment, considering the age of the few other women who lived in the fort. Then, seeing the humor in his eyes, she relented and laughed despite herself.
He stepped up to the balcony rail with a broad grin and she saw how handsome he was beneath the cuts and bruises. “If someone sees you here, there’ll be trouble,” she warned.
“No one will see me. Besides, we’re only talking, nothing more.”
“Why aren’t you in Longpan this evening like everyone else?”
“There’s nothing for me in Longpan.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of pretty girls.”
“None like you.”
“You’re out of your mind, Kuang!”
“Maybe,” he said, reaching over the rail for her hand and drawing her to him slowly, drawing her so close he could only see the curve of her cheek and the top of her lip. He leaned forward to kiss her. To his surprise, she did not resist. When a lingering moment later she pulled away, he drew her back and they kissed again.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered urgently. “You shouldn’t be here. If someone sees you, there’ll be serious trouble.”
“There’s no one around,” he assured her. He vaulted the balcony rail and pulled her body to his, pressing his lips to hers. His hands cupped her neck lightly, then smoothed down her back, settling on her slender hips. His knee found its way between her thighs. Her body tensed. He wondered if he had gone too far when he felt her press into him, her small hands pulling on his shoulders.
A sound came from inside the house—a door closing—foot-steps in the hall. Kuang vaulted back over the rail and darted into the shadows. Weilin returned to her flowerpots. They waited, breathlessly, but no one appeared. He returned to the terrace, but she put her hand on his chest to prevent him from jumping over the rail. “I’m betrothed, Kuang! I’ll be married soon. And don’t forget to whom. You know what Fu Sheng would do if he found out.”
“I’m not afraid of Fu Sheng. I’m not afraid of anyone.”
“You should be. He would kill you. He would probably enjoy it,” she shuddered.
“But where is Fu Sheng now? Out in the steppes, more concerned with killing Turks and Uighurs than with being with you. If I was him, I would never leave you on your own.”
“Fu Sheng has important duties.”
“Your father arranged the marriage?” Kuang asked.
“Father did what’s best.”
“Best for who?”
She looked so sad that he did not know what to say next. Instead he kissed her and she did not resist.
There was another noise from the house. He leapt away into the shadows just as Weilin’s mother put her head out.
“Are you out there, Weilin?” she called.
“Yes mother, I’m tending the flowers.”
“You’ve been out a long time. It’s cold tonight. Come inside and sit with me. Keep me company.”
“I’m coming, mother.”
She looked at the shadows where Kuang was hiding, turned away, and was gone before he could say anything.
He waited for a minute, before returning to the barracks. The empty room was cold and silent. He lay on his bunk and closed his eyes, thinking of Weilin. Kissing her again. It was a dangerous game he was playing but he did not care. Whatever happened, he had to find a way to be alone with her again.
Monks Enter Nalanda
“There it is, Master,” Vanya cried, “Nalanda!”
The point of a giant stupa rose over the treetops, glinting gold against the blue sky, and Bodhidharma felt his heart quicken. He had read many descriptions of Nalanda and seen its golden tower in countless paintings, yet nothing had prepared him for the sight of it rising before him. Nalanda was the jewel in the Buddhist crown, a monastery the size of a city, the greatest temple on earth. Monks came from all over the world to sit in its lofty lecture halls and study in its libraries, which, it was said, housed over a million books and scrolls. The stupa towered over everything, dwarfing the trees that grew nearby, reminding all living things of their place in the world—they were a mere speck in the universe, their lives as temporal as that of an insect, over in the blink of an eye.
Nalanda’s outer wall was high enough to defend a fortress. A row of brightly colored flags fluttered in the warm breeze and palm swifts darted overhead. At the entrance, two guards stood by enormous doors of black wood and iron. The doors barred the way inside save for a small gap between them. There was a young man talking with the guards and as they drew nearer, Bodhidharma could hear them discussing a passage from the Lankavatara Sutra. He turned to Vanya for an explanation.
“They do this, Master,” Vanya whispered loud enough for all to hear. “They ask questions about the scriptures. It’s a test. You can’t enter Nalanda unless you know the answers.” He lowered his voice so that only Bodhidharma could hear, “I have tried several times myself, but they were never satisfied. I think it’s because I’m not of noble birth.”
Moments
