Yin Chiang remained lost for words, so Ananda went on. “I know you planned to return to China one day when you felt ready, but this is a chance we cannot miss. My dear Brother Yin Chiang, we have delighted in your company and I know you have enjoyed being here, but Bodhidharma’s arrival is a sign that we cannot ignore. I ask you to consider returning to China with him now and sharing in his divine mission of enlightenment.”
He waited, giving the little Chinese monk time to compose himself.
“It is a great honor to be considered for such a task,” Yin Chiang answered at last, “but I fear I am not ready to leave Nalanda. There are so many scriptures that I have not translated, so many questions left unanswered.”
“Brother Yin Chiang,” Ananda said gently, “there is a limit to what you can learn from the Sutras. To grasp the true nature of life you must look beyond the scriptures. I believe Bodhidharma can help you in this. In return, you can teach him about the wonders of China and your delightful Chinese language. He is an excellent linguist.”
Bodhidharma had to suppress a smile at this, since Ananda had no way of knowing his ability.
“There is another reason why you must go,” Ananda continued cheerfully. “After meeting Bodhidharma, I was visited by the spirit of a Bodhisattva who showed me a wondrous scene. I saw monks sailing on a river inhabited by an angry dragon. The journey was filled with danger, but the monks were protected by the Bodhisattva who appeared to them in many different forms. At the end of the river, they came to mist-covered mountains. I saw them enter a beautiful temple of red and gold, set in an emerald forest. I have had the same vision each night since Bodhidharma arrived. It is surely a sign, and when a Bodhisattva points the way so clearly, it is destiny.”
Yin Chiang did not answer.
“Take some time and consider my request at your leisure,” Ananda said gently, though Bodhidharma knew that behind the softness of Ananda’s words, there was no doubting the force of his request.
“In the meantime,” Ananda continued, “perhaps you could tell Bodhidharma of your journey to Nalanda. I believe it was as difficult and dangerous as it was magnificent, and he is certainly going to need your expert advice.”
This was a subject that the little scholar felt far more comfortable with, and no sooner had he begun to speak than Bodhidharma saw the tension in Yin Chiang’s shoulders melt away.
“Most Chinese pilgrims travel northwest on the trade routes through Central Asia, skirting the Taklamakan desert and entering India through the mountain passes of the northwest. This route avoids the Himalayas, but it is very long and in recent years, it has also become extremely dangerous. The Huns have occupied the passes and prey on travelers. There is an alternative route, by sea, but this goes countless li away from the right direction and is also dangerous, with treacherous waters and equally treacherous pirates.”
“You came by a third route, did you not?” Ananda asked, though he knew the answer well enough.
“Indeed, there is a third way, a route which I discovered while visiting a remote temple in Yunnan in southwestern China. There I met a hunter who knew the mountain country far to the West. He told me of a wild region of hidden valleys and primitive warring tribes, each with their own customs and language that no outsider can understand. Some are not even fully human but part animal. Some have two heads and eat the flesh of their enemies. The mountains are also home to demons and deadly serpents, and the rivers contain angry dragons that drag unwary travelers to their doom. The hunter told me of a direct route through these mountains to India, a route few believed existed. He assured me that in just two months one could reach the borders of Assam. I checked with local guides and they confirmed that the journey was difficult, but not impossible. I asked the hunter to take me but he refused, saying it was too dangerous. It was only when I offered to pay him a staggering sum that he finally agreed. We waited for the snow to melt on the high ground and then set off, following the course of the Yangtze River into the mountains. When we reached the high ground there was no air and I could scarcely breathe. I became ill and was forced to rest for several days before I was strong enough to continue. It took us many more weeks to reach a Tibetan village. Here the hunter entrusted me to local guides who, for many more pieces of silver, took me through endless high wastes of Tibet. We crossed the upper reaches of the Mee Kong River and the Salween. The rapids were so fierce that I feared for my life many times. Finally, we reached the Tsang Po, which we followed into Assam, where it becomes the Brahmaputra. Here I paid yet another guide, an Indian this time, to take me to Nalanda.”
“You endured great hardship and made great sacrifice to come here, Brother Yin Chiang,” Ananda said, “and I hope the return journey will be easier for you. We will arrange for trustworthy guides to take you to the farthest borders of Assam and give you ample supplies and silver to smooth your path.”
Ananda rubbed his eyes and put his hands on his knees to help him rise, “Now I hope you will excuse me. I am weary and must retire for the evening. Please stay and make use of this chamber as long as you wish. There must be many things you wish to discuss.”
Once Ananda had gone, Bodhidharma turned to Yin Chiang eagerly. “I must commend you on your knowledge of the holy language, Brother Yin Chiang. You speak so fluently. I only hope that one day I might master your language in the same way.”
“Thank you,” Yin Chiang said. “If I can be of assistance, please let me know. I will do my utmost.”
“The Venerable One says you are an excellent teacher.”
“He is too kind.”
“He is also far too generous in his praise of me,” Bodhidharma said. “Nevertheless, if you’re willing to instruct me, I would like to begin learning Chinese as soon as possible.”
“I would be delighted,” Yin Chiang said. “Simply let me know when you would like to begin.”
“Tomorrow,” Bodhidharma said.
“Tomorrow it shall be.”
“Perfect,” Bodhidharma said happily. “Now please tell me more of your journey. Did you meet any warriors with two heads?”
“I met a warrior with five heads,” Yin Chiang smiled mischievously.
“Tell me every detail,” Bodhidharma insisted, hungry for information, and by the time they finally retired, the lamps of Nalanda had long since been extinguished and a new friendship had been bonded.
Soldier Helps a Lady
“You’re very quiet,” Huo said.
Kuang shrugged.
“I can guess why.”
“Leave it, Huo!”
They had been standing guard at the entrance to Yulong Fort for an hour and there was another hour to go before their shift would finish. Kuang looked out over the barren wilderness that surrounded the fort, the sharp rocks, coarse mountain grass, and white-tipped peaks in the distance. The only man-made feature on this desolate landscape was the rough track that led to Longpan.
“You’re thinking about Weilin,” Huo said. Kuang ignored him. “No good will come of it,” he continued. “I’m only trying to stop you from making a big mistake.”
“Shut up Huo! I’m warning you!” Kuang snarled.
They returned to a long silence.
“So you won’t be interested in the whereabouts of a certain young lady, then?” Huo said finally.
“Which young lady? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, I shouldn’t have said a word.”
“You’d better tell me now.”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Tell me!”
“Alright, alright, calm down,” Huo