The Three Teachings Converge into One: The Path of the Mortal and the Saintly is the Same

Poetry:

The snow-capped peaks rise westward from Yumen Pass, and the sword of wisdom cuts through the vast ocean waves.

A sudden calamity arises in the crimson valley, shrouded in mist; the lamp of the heart already reflects on the crescent-shaped river.

Having granted the three women permission to accompany him, Su Qingxuan set off again from the western crossroads of Luoyang. They traveled through Tongguan, past Chang'an, westward along the Wei River valley, out of the Longshan Mountains, and across the Yellow River, a journey that took several months before finally reaching Liangzhou at the eastern end of the Hexi Corridor. The subsequent journey through Ganzhou and Suzhou, with officials welcoming and seeing them off, and the people paying their respects, need not be detailed here.

The mission was large, and with four women of special status and unparalleled beauty accompanying them, despite their best efforts to conceal their identities, they still attracted attention, making the journey much slower than expected.

Once you leave the Central Plains, the scenery gradually changes.

Farmland and crisscrossing paths have been replaced by endless grasslands and Gobi deserts. The sky is high and the land is vast, with long, howling winds, carrying the unique ruggedness and desolation of the frontier.

With the carriage curtain rolled up, Xiao Lingxi would often lean against the window, marveling at the majestic snow-capped mountains in the distance, only to be choked by the sudden gusts of sand and dust.

Lin Wanqing mostly quietly peruses the geographical records and local customs of the Western Regions that she carries with her. Occasionally, she looks out the window, her cool eyes reflecting the boundless wilderness, lost in thought.

Xiao Lingyue, meanwhile, kept her hands on her prayer beads and silently recited scriptures, seemingly unmoved by the scenery outside the window. Only when passing by the ruins of a dilapidated ancient temple would a faint trace of pity flash across her eyes.

As always, Chi Ying rode alongside Su Qingxuan's carriage most of the time, keeping a watchful eye on everything around him. Only when Su Qingxuan was strolling outside the camp late at night would Chi Ying silently follow a few steps behind, like a silent shadow.

Su Qingxuan placed Sanshui in several reinforced carriages in the middle of the group, where she was cared for by reliable female physicians and maids, and surrounded by elite guards.

He did not deliberately seek out more contact with them. He simply inquired about their itinerary and made arrangements daily, maintaining a gentle and polite demeanor while keeping an appropriate distance.

However, with the four women on the same team and each having a delicate relationship with Su Qingxuan, there was inevitably some invisible tension between them.

Xiao Lingxi maintained a somewhat awe-inspiring distance from Lin Wanqing, the "talented woman," and felt a mixture of curiosity and sympathy towards her "renounced worldly life" aunt, Xiao Lingyue. However, she showed a close and dependent affection towards Chi Ying, who was always by Su Qingxuan's side, often calling her "Sister Chi Ying" repeatedly.

Chi Ying was the most patient with her, teaching her simple riding skills, how to find directions, and even how to find water in the desert.

Between Lin Wanqing and Xiao Lingyue, there was a polite distance. They would occasionally exchange a few words about a certain scripture or Buddhist principle, and then fall silent.

But what's most surprising is that they are remarkably similar in certain things—they seem to have a telepathic connection, for example, they can simultaneously sense each other's thoughts and emotions...

Su Qingxuan took in all of this, and could only sigh in his heart.

His mind was mostly absorbed in analyzing the situation in the Western Regions, planning for the difficulties ahead, and... the increasingly surging, almost uncontrollable, ascending energy within him.

Only when alone in the dead of night, caressing those few keepsakes in his palm, gazing at the exceptionally cold moon beyond the Great Wall, would he allow that trace of longing for the mortal world, guilt towards his loved ones, pity for the few remaining threads of affection around him, and bewilderment to quietly spread.

He knew that his time was running out.

On this day, the group finally arrived at the westernmost point of the territory actually controlled by the Central Plains dynasty—Yumen Pass.

The majestic pass stands tall, its earthen-yellow walls appearing particularly solitary and desolate against the backdrop of the endless Gobi Desert and the vast white sky.

Above the gate, the three weathered characters "Yumen Pass" seem to embody the blood, tears, and hardships endured by soldiers and women longing for their loved ones over millennia. Beyond this pass lies the true Western Regions, a land beyond the reach of the Great Xia Dynasty, where laws and culture gradually declined, foreign influences permeated the air, and various ethnic groups clashed.

Before the pass, Su Qingxuan ordered the troops to assemble.

He alighted from the carriage, gazed up at the ancient pass, and remained silent for a long time. Behind him, the entire delegation, including officials, soldiers, and entourage, were all solemnly silent.

An indescribable heaviness and resolve permeated the dry air. Many young people, venturing out of the pass for the first time, were pale-faced and gripped their weapons or packs tightly.

Chi Ying silently handed over a pouch of water. Su Qingxuan took it, took a sip, and the cool water slid down his throat, calming the turmoil in his heart.

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, finally settling on the faces of several women who had just gotten off the vehicle and were looking towards the pass with different expressions.

"The road ahead is long and uncertain, and the outcome remains to be seen."

Su Qingxuan's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears: "If there are any who are afraid of difficulties or want to return home, they may stop here. There are post stations within the pass, which can arrange for their return to the Central Plains. The court will not pursue the matter. From here on, life and death are left to fate."

No one answered, no one retreated.

The Imperial Guards straightened their backs, the officials straightened their clothes, and the craftsmen gripped their tools tightly.

Xiao Lingxi bit her lip, took a step forward, and shouted, "I'm not going back!"

Although Lin Wanqing and Xiao Lingyue did not speak, their calm gazes said it all.

Chi Ying was already standing behind Su Qingxuan, like a javelin nailed to the ground.

Su Qingxuan nodded, said no more, and turned to get into the car.

"switch--!"

The heavy door creaked open slowly, revealing an endless expanse of Gobi Desert reflecting blinding white light, with sand dunes undulating in the hazy distance on the horizon. A wave of heat, carrying sand and dust, swept over us.

The wheels turned again, rolling over the threshold and entering that unfamiliar, unknown land. The gate slowly closed behind them, temporarily isolating them from the familiar sounds and longings of the Central Plains.

Once outside the Jade Gate Pass, the world indeed changed.

Greenery has almost disappeared; as far as the eye can see, there are only gray-yellow gravel, bare rocky mountains, and the awe-inspiring sea of ​​sand in the distance.

The sunlight was scorching, and the air was so dry it felt like it could suck the last drop of moisture from one's lungs.

The sound of the wind is the eternal background music here, sometimes sobbing like a weeping song, sometimes shrieking like a ghostly scream.

The group proceeded along the faintly discernible ancient path, their pace inevitably slowing. Despite being well-prepared and carrying ample amounts of water, their daily consumption remained staggering.

People began to suffer from heatstroke, and livestock collapsed and died. Camping at night, the biting wind was a stark contrast to the scorching heat of the day.

"My lord, the 'White Dragon Mound' is just thirty miles ahead. The sand dunes stretch endlessly, the terrain is extremely complex, quicksand traps are everywhere, and it is a place where bandits often lurk."

Deputy Envoy Zhou Wenjin, Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, rode forward, his usually composed face showing lingering worry. "Should we send more scouts to the vanguard and have the convoy proceed slowly?"

Su Qingxuan sat in the car and lifted a corner of the curtain to look out. In the distance, a huge Yardang landform, resembling the skeleton of a white dragon, stretched out in front of him, twisting and swaying in the rising heat, exuding a terrifying and eerie aura.

He nodded slightly: "As Lord Zhou said. Order the troops to tighten their grip, double the number of scouts, and coordinate with each other. Also, inform the accompanying merchant caravans that they must stay close to the main force, look after each other, and absolutely not fall behind."

"Yes." Zhou Wenjin accepted the order and left, the command echoing in the dry air.

The atmosphere within the ranks noticeably tensed. More Imperial Guard cavalrymen were deployed, and scouts disappeared into the undulating sand dunes ahead like nimble sand foxes.

Su Qingxuan lowered the carriage curtain, his expression unchanged. He even reached out and took out a worn-out copy of "The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions" from the book box beside him. He quietly began to read it, using the dim afternoon light filtering through the curtain.

Between the pages of the book, the footsteps and mindset of the Venerable Xuanzang, who ventured alone through danger and never gave up, resonate subtly with the yellow sand outside the carriage, the book in his hand, and the aspirations in his heart through a thousand years of text.

Their goals differ—one seeks the Dharma, the other seeks to spread the word and bring peace to the nation—but their courage to forge ahead in the face of perilous terrain may be the same.

As the sun was about to set, a massive fiery wheel hung at the edge of the desert, dyeing everything in the world a burning golden-red, both magnificent and tragic.

The team chose a spot to camp under a huge, sheltered sandstone cliff on the edge of Bailongdui. Campfires were lit one after another, their dim, flickering light barely dispelling the rapidly spreading chill and the potential dangers lurking in the darkness.

The accompanying scholars and craftsmen sat around a large fire, eating dry rations with hot water and talking in hushed tones.

An elderly PhD, well-versed in geography, pointed to the peculiar rock formations in the distance and speculated about ancient geological changes.

One agriculturalist was particularly interested in the occasional, drought-resistant psammophytes.

There was also a young civil official who, gazing at the blood-red setting sun, softly recited the lines from a previous dynasty: "A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the desert, the setting sun hangs round over the long river." His voice carried an undisguised sense of homesickness and lofty aspirations.

Su Qingxuan also sat by a campfire next to the main tent, listening to an experienced old physician describe the strange diseases that might be encountered in the Western Regions—heat poisoning, sand fleas, unnamed swellings, and some signs that resembled witchcraft.

He listened attentively, occasionally asking a key question or two. His expression was calm and focused, completely different from the powerful and decisive chief minister who had established the dynasty, and also from the rumored "Sage Su" who was said to have profound cultivation and an ethereal demeanor.

At this moment, he is more like an ordinary traveler who humbly seeks knowledge and makes thorough preparations for a long journey.

As night deepened, all was quiet except for the tireless wind that swept through the sand and rock crevices, emitting strange and mournful sounds, like weeping and lamenting.

Su Qingxuan returned to his simple tent, dismissed his attendants, and sat cross-legged on the felt-covered ground. He did not immediately enter a meditative state, but instead quietly spread his divine sense like mercury spilling onto the ground.

His divine sense covered an area of ​​several miles, revealing every detail of the camp: the hushed conversations of the patrolling soldiers and their wary glances; the subtle sounds of camels kneeling and ruminating; the occasional snort of horses; and even further away, the rustling of gerbils in their burrows…

Naturally, this also includes the area in the middle of the camp where those specially made carriages are located.

Xiao Lingxi seemed unable to sleep, and was leaning against the car window, staring blankly at the campfire outside the tent. Her profile was outlined with soft lines on the car window, but her brows were slightly furrowed, and it was unclear what she was thinking.

The car was still dimly lit, casting a faint shadow of her slender figure as she bent over her desk writing, probably recording what she had seen and heard that day.

The car was dark and silent, but Su Qingxuan could feel the faint, calm Buddhist energy flowing from the string of prayer beads.

Chi Ying did not return to the carriage to rest. Instead, she sat with her hand on her sword in a shady spot not far from her tent, closing her eyes to regulate her breathing. However, her muscles remained relaxed, as if she were about to burst out at any moment, like a female leopard in a slumber.

Su Qingxuan sighed inwardly and withdrew his divine sense. He unconsciously tapped his knee twice with his fingertips, and finally just whispered to the guards on duty outside the tent: "It's cold and the dew is heavy tonight. Tell the brothers on night duty to drink more hot soup to ward off the cold, and make sure they take turns."

The guard responded in a low voice, and the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance.

Traveling by day and resting by night, proceeding cautiously, the mission finally passed through the dangerous places such as Bailongdui without incident after more than ten days. The scenery before them changed again.

The faint silhouette of snow-capped mountains appeared in the distance, and the air became slightly more humid.

Following the seasonal riverbed patterns formed by snowmelt from the mountains, after several more days of travel, a small oasis came into view, with rammed earth walls and low houses visible within.

We've arrived at Gaochang, one of the gateways to the Western Regions.

The climate here is slightly better than the deserts we passed through before, but it is still quite dry. Several ancient city ruins are half-hidden in the sandstorm, silently telling tales of time.

Within the oasis, along a small stream, patches of farmland have been cultivated, where grapes, cotton, and some drought-resistant crops are grown. The houses are mostly built of adobe bricks, quite different from the style of those in the Central Plains.

The common people had darker skin, high noses, and deep-set eyes. They wore brightly colored robes and looked at the large, elite, and strangely dressed group that had suddenly appeared with curiosity and vigilance.

King Qu Wentai of Gaochang was a lean, dark-skinned man in his forties. When he heard the news that the Grand Secretary of the Great Xia had arrived in person with imperial credentials, he was greatly shocked.

He dared not neglect this important minister of the Celestial Empire, yet he was also deeply afraid of the power of the Tibetan Empire to the west. He was filled with trepidation, as if walking on thin ice.

After much deliberation, he still led all the civil and military officials out of the city for ten miles to welcome him. The etiquette was impeccable. However, the vigilance, probing and deep unease hidden in his eyes beneath the smile could not be hidden from Su Qingxuan's eyes.

The nobles and generals behind Qu Wentai blatantly scanned the delegation, especially Su Qingxuan, who was surrounded at the core, wearing a purple robe and jade belt, holding a staff, and exuding a calm demeanor. Their assessment, speculation, and wariness were undisguised.

"Your Highness Qu Wentai pays respects to the High God, Minister Su! I am late in welcoming you, please forgive me!" Qu Wentai stepped forward, bowed with the Gaochang etiquette on his chest, and spoke in Xia language with a heavy accent.

Su Qingxuan had already alighted from the carriage. Upon seeing this, he stepped forward and smiled, speaking fluent Gaochang language (which he had learned during his years of study and travel to the west): "Your Majesty is too polite. I, Qingxuan, have been ordered by the Emperor of the Great Xia Dynasty to tour the Western Regions, with the aim of promoting trade and good neighborliness, and spreading benevolence. Now that I have passed through this precious land, I have come to pay my respects. I apologize for any inconvenience caused."

Upon hearing this, Qu Wentai and his ministers who were fluent in the Xia language were all taken aback. They had not expected that this excessively young and renowned Grand Secretary of Great Xia would be fluent in their own language, and with such pure pronunciation!

While I was surprised, the sense of superiority and alienation that arose from the language barrier was diminished considerably.

Qu Wentai quickly bowed again, his posture even more respectful: "Prime Minister Su actually understands my language! Truly, this is a celestial empire, producing many talented individuals! I admire you! Please come into the city!"

The group was led into the city.

The so-called royal city was no bigger than a county town in the Central Plains. The royal palace was a slightly larger rammed earth building complex that combined the styles of the Central Plains hip roof and the Western Regions arched gate. It was brightly colored and decorated, but the interior furnishings were simple. In some places, the mud plaster had even peeled off, revealing the straw inside.

That evening, Qu Wentai hosted a banquet at the palace to welcome the guests. Long wooden tables were set out, piled high with whole roasted lambs, golden brown and juicy, rich mare's milk wine, glistening grapes, and sweet melons.

Musicians from Gaochang played the pipa and bili, their sounds vibrant and stirring, while dancers, dressed in light gauze, twirled like the wind, performing the passionate and unrestrained Hu Xuan dance.

Qu Wentai and the nobles took turns toasting Su Qingxuan, showering him with compliments and praising the "majesty of the Celestial Empire" and the "elegance of the superior nation." However, they always cleverly avoided or remained vague about substantive topics such as trade and alliances.

Su Qingxuan smiled and accepted all the guests, but only served them the tea he had brought with him instead of wine. He spoke calmly, neither overly enthusiastic nor cold.

Lin Wanqing sat not far below him. Facing the Gaochang scholars' probing questions about Central Plains classics and rituals, she responded calmly, citing classical texts and offering insightful observations. She even discussed the vinegar-making process in the Central Plains from the perspective of the grapes and wine served at the banquet, and the rhythm of the Hu Xuan dance from the perspective of the elegant music of the Central Plains. Her extensive knowledge and refined manner impressed many of the Gaochang scholars present, who dared not show the slightest contempt for her simply because she was a woman.

Su Qingxuan observed this with admiration, but still did not rush to get to the point.

After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere seemed lively, but it was actually superficial.

A military general from Gaochang, named Ashina She'er, whose face was flushed red as if he had drunk too much mare's milk wine, suddenly stood up and shouted loudly in Su Qingxuan's direction:

"I have long heard of Prime Minister Su's exceptional talent in both literature and martial arts. He pacified the Golden Horde royal court in the northern frontier with ease, and his martial prowess is renowned throughout the grasslands! Today, having met Prime Minister Su, I can see that he is indeed a man of great charisma! I wonder if we, generals from a remote and small country, may have the honor of witnessing the martial prowess of our superior nation?"

His tone seemed full of admiration, but in reality, it was clearly provocative, instantly freezing the joyful atmosphere at the table.

Zhou Wenjin and the others' expressions darkened slightly, their hands unconsciously reaching for the swords at their waists. The Imperial Guard commander's gaze was sharp as a knife, fixed on the general.

Su Qingxuan put down his teacup, calmly looked at Ashina She'er, then turned to Qu Wentai, who looked slightly embarrassed and hesitant, smiled slightly, and said loudly:

"General, you flatter me. I am unworthy of such praise. The pacification of the northern frontier is due to the bravery of our soldiers and the great fortune of Your Majesty. I have merely done my duty. Today's banquet is a joyous occasion, and it is truly inappropriate to resort to force, which would spoil the mood."

He changed the subject, his gaze sweeping over the nobles of Gaochang at the table, his tone gentle yet clear: "On my journey here, I've noticed that beyond your country's oases, sand dunes are encroaching daily, and fertile land is shrinking. I've also observed that the city's irrigation canals seem to lack water. Are you troubled by a water shortage?"

This statement hits Gaochang Kingdom right where it hurts the most!

Qu Wentai's eyes widened suddenly. Forgetting the military officer's earlier rudeness, he hurriedly said, "Prime Minister Su, you are wise! My Gaochang Kingdom is small and poor, relying entirely on the meltwater from the snow-capped mountains for sustenance. However, in recent years, the snow line seems to be retreating, the water flow is unstable, and sand encroachment is increasing daily, making irrigation of farmland a great difficulty! I wonder if Your Majesty..."

Su Qingxuan raised her hand to stop his subsequent flattery and smiled:

"Among Qingxuan's entourage are craftsmen skilled in water conservancy and agriculture. In the northwest of our Central Plains, there are also arid lands. The people there invented the 'karez' method, which involves finding underground rivers deep underground, opening vertical wells, and digging underground channels to draw water for irrigation, while also reducing evaporation from the scorching sun. This method may be able to solve your country's water shortage problem. If Your Majesty and all of you are interested, you can observe it tomorrow in the open space in front of the palace, where I will have the craftsmen demonstrate and explain it."

Karez irrigation system? Underground water diversion? Reduced evaporation? Qu Wentai and the other high-ranking officials of Gaochang listened intently, their eyes lighting up and their breathing quickening. Water was the lifeblood of Gaochang!

If such a method existed, it would be a way to save the country! The provocative general Ashina She'er was also stunned, and sat down awkwardly, not knowing how to react.

"Furthermore," Su Qingxuan continued, pointing to the sweet, honey-like grapes on the table, "your country's grapes are of excellent quality, but they are mostly used for fresh consumption or winemaking. Due to the long distances involved, they are easily perishable and difficult to transport, thus their value is not fully realized. In our Central Plains, we have methods for drying grapes, making fruit vinegar, and boiling sugar paste, which can make grapes easier to store and sell far and wide, thus greatly increasing their value. If Your Majesty is willing, these techniques can also be taught to you."

No martial arts competition, no showing off skills, no demands—we'll first present two generous gifts that are crucial to the national economy and people's livelihood, enough to elevate Gaochang's national strength to a new level!

Qu Wentai was completely stunned, as were all the civil and military officials of Gaochang inside the tent, before bursting into excited discussions. Their gazes towards Su Qingxuan and the delegation instantly shifted from wariness, suspicion, and probing to astonishment, disbelief, and a rapidly igniting fervor and anticipation!

"Prime Minister Su... is this really true?" Qu Wentai's voice trembled slightly.

"No one speaks lightly in the military." Su Qingxuan's smile was gentle, yet it possessed a convincing power. "We'll see tomorrow."

In the following days, the open space in front of the Gaochang Royal Palace was transformed into a temporary school and workshop.

The accompanying veteran craftsman, along with his apprentices, built a sand table, made models, and explained in detail the principles, site selection, and excavation methods of the karez wells. He also personally guided the clever craftsmen selected by Gaochang to try it out themselves.

Grape drying racks, vinegar brewing vats, and sugar boiling pots were also set up, and the craftsmen from the Central Plains demonstrated each process without reservation.

Furthermore, the accompanying medical officers set up stalls next to the market to provide free medical consultations and medicine to the people of Gaochang, curing several patients who had been declared beyond help by local witch doctors.

The people of Gaochang went from initially watching from afar with fear and curiosity to gradually approaching, actively helping out, and eagerly learning. Their attitude underwent a dramatic change.

They discovered that these people from the "Celestial Empire" were not arrogant at all, but rather very friendly. They taught genuinely and treated patients without charging a penny, which was completely different from the legendary fierce Tibetans and some greedy and cunning merchant caravans.

Qu Wentai could no longer sit still. He saw with his own eyes the gurgling water flowing from the karez well model (simulated by water bags), the crystal-clear raisins and the fragrant aroma of fruit vinegar, and the people's tears of gratitude towards the Central Plains medical officials.

On the evening of the third day, he personally went to the edge of the oasis, found Su Qingxuan who was observing the soil and talking with an old farmer, dismissed his attendants, and bowed deeply to Su Qingxuan, his face full of shame: "Prime Minister Su... I am utterly ashamed!"

Su Qingxuan helped him up and said gently, "Why does Your Majesty say such a thing?"

"Your Highness... you judged a gentleman by the standards of a petty person!" Qu Wentai lamented bitterly. "Previously, I suspected Prime Minister Su's intentions, and some even instigated tests to see if the superior nation was merely showing off its military might... Your Highness was truly foolish! My understanding was shallow!"

Su Qingxuan shook his head, pointed to several young men from Gaochang who were gathered around the craftsman not far away, gesturing and discussing excitedly, and said slowly:

"Your Majesty, look at them. What do the common people ask for? Nothing more than a mouthful of clean water, a bowl of rice to fill their stomachs, a coat to keep them warm, a safe place to live, and a lifetime of peace. What a ruler should ask for is also the same."

"Our Great Xia is willing to exchange goods with friendly nations from all directions, not to demand territory or tribute, but to share technology and seek common prosperity. Your country can benefit from water conservancy and technology, thus enriching its people and strengthening its nation; our Great Xia can benefit from smooth trade routes and the flow of goods, thus benefiting its country and people. With prosperous people and peaceful borders, this is a win-win situation. Why harbor suspicion beforehand and create unnecessary estrangement?"

He turned around, his gaze clear as snow-capped mountains, and looked at Qu Wentai: "Qingxuan has come to the Western Regions not to swagger or extort tribute. He only wishes to make one more friend and one less enemy outside the Jade Gate Pass, along the ancient Silk Road. He only wishes to ensure the safety of these camel caravans and to prevent the sound of a cold arrow. What does Your Majesty think of this wish?"

Qu Wentai's heart was filled with turmoil. Looking at the young prime minister before him, who was outstanding in demeanor, magnanimous in bearing, and consistent in word and deed, he recalled what he had seen and heard in the past few days. Thinking of the Tibetan envoys in the west who were always extorting, looking down on, and coercing him, a surge of emotion mixed with shame and determination welled up in his heart.

He stepped back, straightened his clothes, and, with the utmost respect of a subject of the Great Xia Dynasty when paying homage to a superior, solemnly bowed to Su Qingxuan, and also towards the direction of Luoyang in the east:

"King Qu Wentai of Gaochang, on behalf of the entire kingdom, wishes to forge an eternal alliance with the superior nation of Great Xia, opening all trade markets, learning the culture and teachings of the Central Plains, and adhering to the rites and etiquette of Great Xia! From this day forward, Gaochang shall be a bulwark and friendly nation of Great Xia in the Western Regions! I request that Prime Minister Su convey this to His Majesty the Emperor of Great Xia! Any betrayal will be punished by both gods and men!"

When the news spread, the whole of Gaochang rejoiced.

That evening, another grand banquet was held at the palace. This time, the atmosphere was sincere and enthusiastic, without the slightest pretense. Fine wine and delicacies filled the air, accompanied by singing and dancing.

Qu Wentai and the nobles offered sincere toasts, and Su Qingxuan also drank a few cups of Western Region grape wine. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her eyes held a gentle smile. She even tapped her fingers lightly on the table to the rhythm of the cheerful Hu music.

At this moment, he was no longer the all-knowing and awe-inspiring chief minister in the court, nor the legendary saint with divine cultivation who was detached from the world. He was more like a young man who had unloaded some of his burdens and was enjoying the pleasures of this foreign land.

Zhou Wenjin and the other members of the delegation observed this, feeling both surprised and touched.

They vaguely felt that Su Xiang, after leaving Yumen Pass, seemed to have changed in some way. He seemed to have lost some of the aloofness of being in the high halls of power and looking down on the masses, and gained more of a lively and down-to-earth air.

As night deepened, the banquet continued. Xiao Lingxi excused herself to change, quietly slipping out of the noisy hall and alone to a quiet haystack outside the palace. The night breeze caressed her cheeks, flushed from the wine, and carried with it the scent of the distant desert.

She gazed at the brightly lit hall, listening to the faint sounds of laughter and music, her eyes involuntarily following the figure in purple robes. Watching him chat and laugh with others, seeing the rare, relaxed, and genuine smile on his face, she was momentarily mesmerized.

A cool night breeze swept by, and she felt her cheeks were damp. She raised her hand to touch them and found that she didn't know when she had shed tears.

A complex mix of emotions welled up within her, a blend of sweetness, bitterness, worry, and deep longing. She knew that he, at this moment, was like a rare spring found in the desert—precious yet fleeting.

After spending several days in Gaochang, signing a treaty, exchanging documents, and leaving some artisans behind to provide in-depth guidance, the delegation continued westward.

Qu Wentai personally escorted him for a hundred li, gifting him a large amount of local specialties, and dispatched a team of Gaochang cavalry familiar with the roads as guides, bidding him farewell with tears in his eyes.

The next stop was Kucha, a city-state further west and even more powerful and complex.

This place, relying on the larger flow of the river, has a vast oasis, abundant water and grass, attracts merchants and travelers, and is a melting pot of Eastern and Western cultures. Buddhism is extremely popular here, and its national strength is among the best in the Western Regions.

But precisely because of this, the internal forces of Kucha were complex and intertwined. The king was old, the princes were fighting each other, the royal advisor Kumarajiva held a high position and great power, the nobles were all attached to one another, and they were extremely wary of foreign forces.

Before they even reached the capital of Kucha, trouble had already quietly arrived.

The group traversed a treacherous mountain path called "Red Valley," flanked by steep, crimson cliffs. The path was narrow and winding. Just as the main force reached the middle of the valley, a sudden and unexpected event occurred!

Suddenly, countless boulders and logs rolled down from the cliffs on both sides, crashing into the ranks of men and horses, causing chaos and screams! Immediately afterward, a sharp whistle rang out, and hundreds of "bandits" roared out from behind the cliffs and from the crevices in the rocks!

These men, all masked in black, were skilled horsemen, fearless, and familiar with the terrain. Using the rocks as cover, they drew their bows and arrows or brandished their scimitars, charging fiercely at the chaotic delegation. Their attack was swift and their target clear—the imperial envoy's carriage at the heart of the group!

"An ambush! Protect Prime Minister Su!" Zhou Wenjin shouted, drawing his sword, but his voice betrayed a hint of panic. Although the elite Imperial Guards protecting him were fierce and brave, the attack was sudden, the terrain was unfavorable, and their formation was disrupted by falling rocks. They were suppressed for a time and found themselves in a bitter battle.

Su Qingxuan stood beside the relatively safe supply wagon, calmly observing the entire battle. With his cultivation level, he had actually noticed these "bandits" gathering several miles away, but he did not point it out.

Firstly, it can be considered "training," because a mature team cannot rely solely on his individual skills.

Secondly, he also wanted to see who this person was who dared to attack the imperial envoy's entourage of the Great Xia.

At this moment, he calmly observed the attackers. He saw that their movements were quite orderly, they covered each other and cooperated well. Their archery and horsemanship skills were better than those of ordinary troops. They were by no means a rabble of bandits, but rather... well-trained and battle-hardened elite soldiers in disguise!

Moreover, the fighting style of some of them subtly bore traces of the army of a certain country in the Western Regions.

"Brother Su, something's not right with these people!" Chi Ying had already ridden up to Su Qingxuan's side, his spear lowered, his eyes sharp as an eagle as he scanned the battlefield. He whispered, "They look like soldiers in disguise. Behind that huge rock to the left front, that seems to be the command post."

Su Qingxuan nodded slightly and whispered a few instructions to a commander of the Imperial Guards beside him.

The commander received the order, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. He led a squad of the most valiant and agile cavalrymen, ignoring the arrows overhead and obstacles in front of them, and charged headlong into the direction indicated by the red tassel. This was the seemingly weak flank of the "bandit" formation, which was actually likely the command center.

Meanwhile, Lin Wanqing, who had gotten out of the car at some point, stood behind an overturned truck. Her face was slightly pale, but her eyes were calm. She took out a jade flute, its green color glistening, from her bosom and brought it to her lips.

There were no sounds of fierce battle; instead, a clear and melodious flute, like the tinkling of a spring or the gentle breeze rustling through new willows, strangely pierced through the deafening shouts, clashing weapons, and screams in the canyon, echoing clearly.

This flute music is not a sonic attack technique in martial arts, but it contains a righteous, peaceful, and unstoppable Confucian spirit that clears the mind, dispels restlessness, and inspires courage.

Upon hearing this, the soldiers of the Great Xia Dynasty were invigorated, their chaotic formation gradually stabilized, and their counterattack became more methodical. Meanwhile, the fierce "bandits" felt inexplicably irritated, their blood and qi slightly stagnant, and their offensive slowed down.

A barely perceptible hint of surprise flashed across Su Qingxuan's eyes as he looked at Lin Wanqing.

Unexpectedly, her understanding of music had already aligned with the Confucian principles of cultivating inner strength and rectifying the mind, and she was able to express her thoughts through music, influencing the morale of the battle.

This woman's talent is truly unfathomable.

Just as the sound of the flute echoed and the enemy's momentum eased slightly, the elite Imperial Guards who were ordered to launch an attack pierced the flank of the "bandits" like a sharp knife, engaging in fierce combat with more than ten guards whose martial arts were clearly superior.

The commander of the Imperial Guards was even more valiant. His horse spear was like a poisonous dragon emerging from its cave. In just a few exchanges, he knocked a masked man who seemed to be the leader off his horse. With a flick of his spear, he removed the black mask from the man's face!

Illuminated by the firelight and the skylight, the face of a man from the Western Regions, who appeared to be in his thirties with a high nose, deep-set eyes, and a short beard, was revealed. The style of his helmet and the patterns on his armor were clearly those of a high-ranking general from the Kingdom of Kucha!

The man was captured, and seeing his plan fail, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. He suddenly blew a bone whistle. The sharp whistle echoed through the canyon, and the remaining "bandits," without any intention of fighting, immediately retreated like a tide, quickly disappearing into the complex and rugged mountain paths and crevices, leaving behind only dozens of corpses and wounded members of their comrades.

A meticulously planned ambush was thus thwarted. However, the mission also suffered more than twenty dead and dozens wounded, with several supply wagons destroyed. The air was thick with the stench of blood and dust.

Su Qingxuan remained calm, showing neither joy nor anger. He immediately ordered the treatment of the wounded and the assessment of the losses. He personally went to the side of the seriously wounded, bent down to examine them, and without hesitation channeled his pure inner energy into the injured person's body to protect their heart and stabilize their condition.

His movements were steady and swift, carrying a reassuring composure. He treated all soldiers equally, whether they were soldiers of the Great Xia or wounded and captured bandits of Kucha.

The captured Kucha general, with an arrow in his shoulder, lay on the ground, watching the young prime minister personally set the bones and apply medicine to an ordinary soldier. His eyes were complex, filled with resentment, surprise, and a barely perceptible shock.

During the cleanup of the battlefield, the unique waist badges of the Kucha royal guards and standard-issue arrows were indeed found on the corpses of several "bandits." The evidence was conclusive: this attack was orchestrated by someone within Kucha to prevent the Great Xia delegation from arriving safely, and even to annihilate them en route.

"Prime Minister Su, the situation in Kucha is complicated. It seems that some people do not want us to enter."

Zhou Wenjin, bandaging a scrape on his arm, said worriedly, "King Yuchi Fushizhan is old and frail, and his power seems to have fallen into other hands. The Grand Preceptor, Kumarajiva, is highly respected, but his attitude is unclear. The princes are also fighting each other with their own armies. Our journey will likely be fraught with difficulties."

"It's alright." Su Qingxuan looked towards the exit of the Red Valley to the west, where the outline of a wider oasis could be vaguely seen. His tone was calm and unwavering. "I'm just about to see what kind of aura this powerful nation in the Western Regions really is."

It is:

The smoke and beacon fires of Chigu Valley chilled my heart; the palaces of Kucha were hidden behind carved saddles.

Before the pipa could play its tune, disaster struck; a pure heart crossed the turbulent rapids.