Chapter 84: The Tortoise Shell Left Behind by Bianji

Guan Wen, right now we will only discuss that piece of tortoise shell and The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions, not the unsolved case. From that book, we can learn that Master Xuanzang's pilgrimage route started from Chang'an, Qinzhou, Lanzhou, Liangzhou, Guazhou, Yumen Pass, and Xinjiang, extending all the way northwest, then entering the territory of Kyrgyzstan, passing through the nine clans of Sughd—specifically Shiguo, Kangguo, Miguo, Caoguo, Heguo, Anguo, and Shiguo—traveling across Uzbekistan, crossing the famous Iron Gate in Central Asian history to enter Afghanistan, continuing south, traversing the Great Snowy Mountains, and passing through Peshawar in Pakistan to enter India. Such a route effectively avoided the northern steppes, taking a massive detour and traveling several times the necessary distance to reach the destination. Why was that the case?

This bizarre itinerary once sparked heated debates on Baidu and Google, drawing in countless historians and archaeologists.

Most historians believed that since the Han and Tang dynasties, northern nomadic tribes had frequently invaded the south, and the Central Plains regimes, occupied with dealing with these intermittent provocations, lacked the capacity for further regional exploration to the southeast, south, and southwest. Therefore, when Master Xuanzang traveled west, he habitually followed the passes guarded by Tang soldiers. Because these cities along the way were already marked on military maps, the path could barely be considered a familiar road. After reaching the furthest limit of centralized authority, he obtained southbound routes from the maps of other countries and only then turned toward the south.

Physicists and geographers argued that, lacking advanced instruments for determining direction, Master Xuanzang was extremely confused about the direction to the Western Heaven. What appeared to him as due west actually deviated toward the northwest—a tiny initial error leading to a massive discrepancy in the end. Hence, he took that enormous circular detour. This proved that China's long-distance travel and maritime technologies were not advanced. Otherwise, how else could Zheng He, the Three-Jewel Eunuch, have only been capable of leading his fleet far into the Western Oceans during the height of the Ming dynasty?

Qingcheng, why bring up this topic? Are you implying that there is also some connection between Bianji and the demon subduing?

Exactly. Gu Qingcheng slammed her foot on the accelerator, pushing the car to its absolute speed limit. Once we reunite with Baoling, we can unlock the secret of the tortoise shell. This time, we must succeed. Only thus can we avoid missing each other in the cycle of reincarnation.

Guan Wen reached out, placing his palm over the back of Gu Qingcheng's right hand as she gripped the steering wheel.

Rest assured, now that we have met in this lifetime, I will never forget you again, he said.

Gu Qingcheng smiled through her tears: Thank you. Now I finally understand why, no matter how well others treated me in this life, I felt nothing. It was because I was living only to wait for your arrival.

She pressed the jukebox button and whispered, her voice choked with tears: Listen to this song, the one I love the most.

The soulful duet by Taiwanese singers Su Rui and Yu Kanping drifted slowly through the car cabin:

I step with unwavering strides,
To match your coming.
When panic and hesitation take hold,
Please follow me.

I carry dreamy expectations,
A passion impossible to suppress.
When you are not paying attention,
Please follow me...

Guan Wen opened his mouth to speak, but Gu Qingcheng suddenly raised a hand to cover his lips, smiling and shaking her head.

The jukebox happened to be playing the lyrics: Do not say anything; that is a world you cannot foresee. Do not speak, you do not need to speak, your eyes have already told me...

Such lyrics mirrored their exact state of mind at this very moment. The path ahead was hazy and unknown, and no words could adequately explain the complexity of their feelings. As long as their hearts beat as one, everything remained unspoken yet fully understood.

Returning to the guesthouse, Guan Wen and Gu Qingcheng received the greatest of surprises—Xiao Huo had already woken up, the snake venom in his body had been completely cleared, and his physical recovery was progressing with astonishing speed.

When they entered the room, Xiao Huo was sitting on the sofa, an IV drip attached to both hands, a serene smile in his eyes.

You're okay? That's wonderful! Gu Qingcheng clapped her hands repeatedly in joy.

Sister Gu, it was just a minor scratch; it wasn't enough to kill me. Besides, with good friends like you and all those fine brothers outside, how could I bear to die? Gao Xiang just came by to visit, saying that Miss Baoling is trying to comprehend the tortoise shell brought back from the Summer Palace and needs your help. Don't waste time here, go quickly.

It was evident that Xiao Huo had fully recovered, his voice resonant and full of vigor as he spoke.

The heavy stone finally lifted from Guan Wen's heart, and he praised sincerely: Xiao Huo, your physical constitution is truly remarkable. This morning the doctor still warned that you would need at least half a year of strict rest before you could even stand.

In truth, the doctor's original words had been much more severe, concluding that Xiao Huo's cerebral and central nerves had been deeply eroded by the snake venom, leaving him likely disabled for life and reduced to a vegetative state.

Xiao Huo laughed: Having spent so long making my way in the martial underworld, I can't claim much, but my survival skills and instincts are stronger than the average person's. As long as there is a sliver of hope, I will never easily surrender. Don't worry about me; go see Miss Baoling instead.

The two immediately returned to the family lodge. As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, they saw Gao Xiang sitting on the steps outside Baoling's door, a scattering of cigarette butts discarded around him.

Hey, it's so good you're back. Shh— Seeing them, Gao Xiang sprang to his feet, instantly realizing his voice was too loud, and a look of vexation crossed his face.

He lowered his voice to explain: Baoling has been alone in the room for over four hours. The curtains are drawn, and I can't see a thing. Just now I knocked on the door to deliver water to her, but I was turned away, told only that she doesn't want to see anyone except the two of you.

Gu Qingcheng ascended the steps and knocked gently on the door.

Guan Wen, what on earth happened over there in Nepal? I feel like Baoling has turned into a completely different person since she came back, unlike before. Also, regarding the black hole on Mount Niseri, have you found a solution? I've already located a few martial arts friends proficient in demolition technology and brought along a large batch of explosives, enough to—

Guan Wen. Gu Qingcheng turned her head and called out, cutting off Gao Xiang's endless chatter.

The door was already open. Gu Qingcheng motioned for Guan Wen to enter, leaving Gao Xiang standing aside.

The most urgent task at hand was subduing the demon, which had nothing to do with money or treasure. On the level of such metaphysics and esoteric arts, Gao Xiang's superficial understanding was of no help whatsoever, and talking to him would merely be a waste of breath.

Hey, how can you guys be like this? Every single one of you is like a gourd with its mouth sawed shut, refusing to tell me anything—

The door clicked shut, blocking Gao Xiang's voice outside.

No lights were on inside the room. The doors and windows were entirely covered by thick, coarse cloth curtains, rendering the light dim and exceptionally gloomy.

I have realized that the script on the tortoise shell belongs to the most ancient 'formless, shadowless, and untransmitted secret' of Han Buddhism. The wise man who carved the tortoise shell did not intend to convey the literal meaning of the surface text. Therefore, I deliberately blocked the light to ponder its mysteries in the dark. In ancient Yin-Yang theory, the tortoise shell represents the 'Northern Xuanwu Ren-Gui Water Formation,' yet it was specifically hidden in the Summer Palace in Nepal. Nepal lies to the south of the snowy realm, belonging to the 'Southern Zhuque Bing-Ding Fire Formation,' and the hiding place even contains the character for 'Summer,' indicating that the battle to subdue the demon requires elements such as 'fire, burning, and explosion.' I also noticed that the tortoise shell was never fully carved, because the person who left it behind suffered the most brutal execution of being cut in half at the waist. Thus, even with supreme wisdom, one cannot fathom the entirety of it. I am waiting for the night to fall. I believe that by midnight, the tortoise shell will grant us more crucial enlightenment. Baoling's long hair was loose around her shoulders as she caressed the tortoise shell, already lost in a state of self-forgetful contemplation.

Gu Qingcheng's hair had been shorn by the Crimson Flame Venerable, leaving it falling only to her shoulders.

She sat cross-legged opposite Baoling, holding her palms together in a single-handed salute, closing her eyes and whispering: Baoling, I am certain that the person who left the tortoise shell was the High Monk Bianji of the Great Tang. In the meditation chamber of the Summer Palace, I came to realize this. He joined and copied The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions for Master Xuanzang not merely as a simple textual compilation, but with a profound understanding of its inner mysteries. From the bizarre pilgrimage route, he perceived that a boundless and malevolent Rakshasa witch existed in the western region, one impassable by the meager strength of Han Buddhist pilgrims, spelling certain death for anyone heading west. That was why he detoured to the northwest. Master Xuanzang studied in India, and after years of trekking, he acquired the method to destroy the Rakshasa witch, a method concealed within the very pages of The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions. Bianji, after all, was a monk rather than a martial sorcerer, lacking sufficient vigilance to protect himself, which brought about his unprovoked calamity. Such was his destined fate; that palace mystery has long since been buried in history, impossible to investigate. Yet we must remember that light and darkness coexist simultaneously—where there is driving force, there is resistance; where there are demon-vanquisher and demon-slayers, there must inevitably be demon-protectors and demon-worshippers. Bianji's death was the work of the demon-worshippers.

Therefore, the essence of The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions rests entirely upon the tortoise shell. It is lamentable that among all the monks cultivating for a lifetime in the capital of Chang'an during the flourishing Tang dynasty, not a single one could continue Bianji's train of thought and carry on the work of deciphering the secret. Stacks of glorious scriptures reaching the ceiling bought nothing in return except dynastic changes and utter chaos, Baoling replied.

Throughout the five thousand years of Chinese history, such unsolved mysteries are countless. Whenever an emperor decreed the execution of a criminal, no matter how monumental the injustice, no one ever dared to seek redress for them. Thus, the stigma of being a 'depraved monk' clung to Bianji for a millennium. To others, it was none of their business, and since no profit could be gained, who would care to meddle in this case?

Heaven has eyes; he carved characters upon the tortoise shell, entrusted it to the demon-subduers of Wagangzhai, and had it brought all the way to the snowy realm, playing a decisive role in the battle to suppress demons back then. Historians' pens remember only the prominent heroes elevated on high, while completely forgetting the nameless heroes who labored silently behind the scenes, Gu Qingcheng said.

Guan Wen could not help but think of those people led by Master Cheng deep beneath Lhasa, living in seclusion year after year, solely for an immortal belief in 'subduing demons.'

It is not that there are no heroes in this world; rather, there is a lack of discerning eyes to discover them, he said with deep emotion.

Han Yu, the foremost of the Eight Great Prose Masters of the Tang and Song Dynasties, wrote in his essay 'On Horses': 'Only when there is a discerning master do thousand-li horses appear. While thousand-li horses always exist, discerning masters do not.'

The underlying meaning holds true universally.

No one aspires to be a hero; they are simply driven by circumstances, forced to step forward and rescue the masses from the direst perils. Guan Wen, if I had a choice, I would willingly relinquish everything right now and fade into ordinary obscurity, ceasing to be either the once world-famous bounty hunter or today's one-in-a-million demon-slayer. 'Do not laugh, you who are drunk on the battlefield, how many return from ancient campaigns?'... 'How many return from ancient campaigns?'... That single line truly exhausts the innermost thoughts of those setting off on a campaign. Gu Qingcheng opened her eyes, her face filled with a bitter smile.

I rather prefer a different couplet—'All ancient sages and worthies are destined for loneliness, only the drinkers leave behind their names.' The day is still early, and the night is long. Why don't we drink to our hearts' content until midnight, and see what the ancient Bianji is truly trying to tell us? Baoling smiled.

The two young women's dispositions had essentially reversed: Gu Qingcheng, normally bold and generous, and Baoling, typically melancholic and fragile, had momentarily swapped personas.

There was no shortage of fine liquor in the Tibetan region. In a corner of the room stood a crate of pure highland barley wine that Qiong Songjian had not managed to take away. Brewed from pure grains using traditional Tibetan methods, the wine emitted a rich, unadorned fragrance the moment the lid was unsealed.

There was only a single drinking vessel in the room. Guan Wen filled it to the brim and handed it to Gu Qingcheng.

Three full bowls downed to Li Taibai's fine poetry— Gu Qingcheng smiled, truly draining the vessel in three consecutive gulps, and then passed it to Baoling.

When life is joyous, make the most of it; let no golden goblet face the moon in vain. Baoling also smiled, drank three draughts, and passed the cup to Guan Wen.

Fine poetry and fine wine; this is the happiest night of my life. Guan Wen did not recite any verse. With two beauties before him, he wondered whether he would ultimately get lost in the wine or in the gentle glances of Gu Qingcheng and Baoling.

The cup passed continuously from hand to hand, and even the air in the room gradually grew intoxicated. Outside the window, dusk gathered in silence, and the entire world seemed to have plunged into a deep slumber.

Do you still remember someone? Gu Qingcheng smiled.

Who? Baoling asked.

Longzun. Gu Qingcheng replied.

Gar Tongtsen, the First Wise Man of Tibet? How could I possibly forget him? Baoling retorted.

Longzun was a significant figure in Tibetan history, known in Tibetan as Gar Tongtsen, and was undeniably the foremost wise man under the command of the former Tibetan king Songtsen Gampo. The military prowess of Songtsen Gampo and the boundless resourcefulness of Gar Tongtsen jointly established Tibet's hegemony on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.

I know that he once took orders from Songtsen Gampo to serve as an envoy to Nepal, presenting a marriage alliance proposal to the then-ruling King Amshuvarma, demanding that the king send his most beautiful princess, Bhrikuti, to Tibet to become the wife of Songtsen Gampo. King Amshuvarma refused. In the imperial court, Gar Tongtsen engaged in three rounds of debate with Nepal's civil and military officials, employing both soft and hard tactics, coercion and enticement, ultimately subduing the king and securing his agreement to the marriage alliance... Gu Qingcheng seemed already intoxicated, suddenly bringing up that long-dusty chapter of Tibetan history.

Nepal was formerly known as Nepala, and Princess Bhrikuti was historically known as Princess Chiji.

Historians analyze that Songtsen Gampo's decision to take Princess Chiji as a consort was intended to strengthen friendly relations with Nepal and consolidate religious ties with the Indian subcontinent. Yet who could know that it was precisely because of Gar Tongtsen's discerning eye that the joint demon-subduing campaign of one king and two princesses came to pass? Historians are merely a group of pedants using magnifying glasses to search for bookworms within historical texts, self-satisfied and conservative; after studying for a lifetime, all they can do is repeatedly copy and ruminate on things others have already chewed over... Baoling was also intoxicated, swaying her sleeves as she spoke, singing and dancing simultaneously.

That's right, exactly right. Gar Tongtsen's embassy to Chang'an in the Great Tang to request Princess Wencheng to travel west as the wife of the Tibetan king Songtsen Gampo was also undertaken to fulfill the great task of subduing demons, not out of mere romance. Those great sentiments transcending politics and history—who in this world understands them? In that sense, Songtsen Gampo, Princess Wencheng, Princess Chiji, and Gar Tongtsen are likewise peerless nameless heroes. Only, people see their superficial achievements while failing to see what they truly accomplished for the Tibetan realm... Gu Qingcheng laughed heartily, abandoning the cup to snatch the wine bottle from Guan Wen's hand, drinking straight from the bottle.

Alcohol helps release stress, and these two peerless beauties had endured immense pressure during their trip to Nepal. Only under the influence of alcohol could they cast off that heavy burden and truly reclaim their true selves.

Of the three, only Guan Wen remained sober.

Therefore, when the tortoise shell lying flat on the table suddenly emitted a piercing white light, he sprang up instantly, wrapping his arms around the waists of Gu Qingcheng and Baoling, retreating swiftly together.