Chapter 68: Enlightenment in a Single Moment

“Ding Jun, Siqin has been emptied out.” Once she had laughed enough, Fang Qing returned to her usual expression and said anxiously.

Ding Jun instantly understood what that word meant. In other words, Siqin had been used. Once her value was reduced to zero, she would be discarded at once, like a bag of household refuse tossed onto the roadside. Such an end was utterly tragic; for the rest of her life, she would be worse off than dead.

He stopped and sighed softly. “I understand. The battle at Tholing Temple is over. No one gained anything from it. On the contrary, everyone suffered losses and was badly weakened.”

“No. There is a victor—the person who outmaneuvered you: Xue Wan.” Fang Qing named her without the slightest tact.

Ding Jun gave a bitter smile. He had to admit that Fang Qing’s words were extraordinarily sharp.

He tried to argue. “Fang Qing, I came to Tholing Temple to deliver the urn to the deceased’s family. Now that the task is complete, many of the conflicts in the martial world were merely disturbances stirred up by circumstance, not my true intention. As far as Tholing Temple is concerned, I am only a passerby, not someone who belongs here.”

Fang Qing let out a long sigh. “You’re not telling the truth. There are only the two of us here—what are you trying to hide? You kept glancing toward the Sixteen Vajra Dancers just now, your eyes unfocused. Did something occur to you?”

Indeed, standing at this crossroads, Ding Jun vaguely felt that choosing where to go next was immensely important. Now that Siqin had been “emptied out,” what meaning was there in going to see her? Time was precious, and he would rather devote what little he had to the most important research.

He nodded. “Yes. I want to go over there and take a look.”

Fang Qing turned around briskly, changed direction, and pointed toward the Sixteen Vajra Dancers. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The afterglow of sunset fell upon the battered murals. They had to withstand not only the ravages of time but also the destruction inflicted by human hands, stubbornly preserving their original appearance.

Looking at them, Ding Jun thought of the brutal scenes in which civilization and art had been wantonly destroyed amid the surging torrents of historical change.

Fang Qing began explaining slowly. “I looked into it. Judging from the style of the murals at Tholing Temple, the court painting, dancing, and ceremonial culture of the Tubo Empire were also inherited by the Guge Kingdom. During the reign of Songtsen Gampo of Tubo, there were famous murals depicting sixteen female dancers. The Tibetan historical text *The Royal Chronicle of Tibet* described them this way: ‘Dressed in finery and holding flowers, sixteen lovely young women sang and danced, enchanting all who watched them.’ In Tibetan, this kind of dance is called Shyama, meaning ‘the songs and dances of women.’ The Sixteen Vajra Dancers before us may very well represent the inheritance and continuation of the sixteen-woman dances of the Tubo era…”

Ding Jun listened in silence, his gaze passing over the murals one by one. Somewhere in his subconscious, he felt that a secret was hidden within them, one that had to be uncovered carefully, bit by bit.

Yet whenever he saw the women in the murals, he could not help thinking of Xue Wan, who seemed untouched by the dust of the human world.

“You’re distracted again?” Fang Qing asked.

Ding Jun shook his head. “I was wondering what the people who left these murals behind, so long ago, truly meant to express. The Guge Kingdom created history, then abruptly withdrew from it, leaving behind so many unsolved mysteries. Where did Xue Wan come from? Where did the murderous symbols used by her tribe originate? What secrets are hidden within them… Fang Qing, standing here, I feel as though I know nothing about Tholing Temple, the Guge Kingdom, or the martial figures who have gathered from every corner of the land. This mysterious Tibetan region is as brilliant as a river of stars, yet I cannot seize even one star from among the millions, cannot find a way through its gates, and cannot discover the opening that would let me enter its inner chambers. This profound sense of defeat is something I have never experienced in all my life.”

He sat down on the stone steps, facing the murals from afar, and sank into deep self-reproach.

The mural of the Sixteen Vajra Dancers possessed a magnificent presence, each dancer striking a different pose. Even in their ruined state, the women—some raising their hands above their heads, others pressing their palms together before their breasts—still displayed an intensely alluring beauty, filled with a temptation that could not be spoken, only understood.

At the very center of Ding Jun’s vision, one dancer with a delicate, beautiful expression displayed her slender waist and full breasts to perfection. Her long skirt trailed behind her as she danced barefoot…

Gradually, Ding Jun felt like a drowning man. His body seemed to sink, his spirit plunged into despair, and his fighting strength was being dismantled layer by layer. He was a battle-hardened soldier who had undergone rigorous military training. In the past, he had known only how to press forward, never giving up until he reached his goal. He had never experienced weariness of battle or any other negative emotion born of fear or anxiety. Perhaps it was the succession of defeats that had finally robbed him of his drive.

“Ding Jun, you’re right. Everyone who comes to Tibet experiences the same thing. Everything on this plateau seems to be the opposite of the saying that man can conquer nature. The more outsiders try to conquer this highland, the more powerless they feel. The local Tibetans, by contrast, revere Heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, and live stable, peaceful lives. After staying at Tholing Temple for so long, my personality has been worn smooth. I’ve learned to regard everything in Tibet with reverence.

“Think about it. Tibetans from every direction journey toward the temples and deities they hold in the highest esteem, crossing mountains and rivers and traveling thousands of miles, all merely to look upon them once, worship once, and turn a prayer wheel before returning home content. They ask very little of Heaven, and so they remain happy and free of worry… If you come to Tibet, you have to learn to think as the Tibetans do. Isn’t that so?” Fang Qing said.

The two sat facing each other. Some invisible barrier seemed to lie between them, and their thoughts could never quite touch.

“I said earlier that I came to Tibet to deliver that urn. What about you? Why did you travel thousands of miles to come here? To spend your days immersed in the dull, monotonous life of a monastery?” Ding Jun asked in return.

“What do you think?” Fang Qing countered.

“Men die for wealth, and birds die for food. Every proverb handed down through five thousand years of Chinese civilization has its own truth, doesn’t it?” Ding Jun said leisurely.

Fang Qing smiled. “Perhaps. But I seem to remember a line from *The Hereditary House of Chen She* in the *Records of the Grand Historian*: ‘How can sparrows know the aspirations of swans?’ Some people always judge a noble heart by the standards of a petty one. Isn’t that laughable?”

Her answer was clearly meant to say that Ding Jun had misjudged her.

Dusk deepened, and the murals gradually faded from sight, leaving only blurred outlines.

Ding Jun understood that leaving Tholing Temple now might be the best opportunity to withdraw from the struggle and remain unstained. Yet so many mysteries had already made their nests in his mind. Once he left Tibet, he might never find their answers. More importantly, Xue Wan had left a deep mark on his heart, one that could neither be wiped away nor cast off.

“Stay. Let’s continue this journey together. What do you say?” Fang Qing asked with a smile.

Ding Jun replied coolly, “Where would we go? Where is the end?”

Fang Qing smiled. “You know the answer. The mysteries of the Guge Kingdom, the fate of the Guge tribe, the forces behind Xue Wan… There are far too many secrets waiting for us to uncover. My brother often says that while a person is alive, he should always do something interesting. Otherwise, wouldn’t life become unbearably dull? Xue Wan outmaneuvered you, so you’ll have to get even with her, won’t you? Don’t worry. A gentleman loves wealth but acquires it honorably. I promise that, if we work together, money and profit will never come between us.”

She raised her right hand and smiled lightly. “A gentleman’s word is his bond. Shall we seal it with a high five?”

All at once, Ding Jun saw a shadow like a wisp of smoke rise sharply behind Fang Qing. Before his eyes could focus, it swept sideways to the left and vanished soundlessly into the gray dusk.