Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You Chapter 34

T/N: Any notes at the end of relevant paragraphs that are indicated with an asterisk * are usually my own translation notes, unless I say otherwise in square brackets [  ], and whatever’s written in square brackets within sentences are words I added on for clearer meaning. I don’t have a beta reader, so if you spotted typos/errors, feel free to point them out!

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Eventually, I regain consciousness. It takes a while before my sight becomes clearer. What greets me is a pair of light grey eyes looking at me unblinking and full of worry. I recognize them to be Pusysdeva's.

"Thank heavens, you are awake!"

He leans forward to pull me into a hug but accidentally hits my arm in the process, bringing forth a new burst of pain that gets me teary-eyed.

"Sorry! I'm so clumsy, always hurting you."

He immediately lets go of me, then carefully observes my wounds.

"Don't worry, I will make sure your wounds are healed."

I look around and realize I have returned to my room at the State Preceptor's residence. My arm is wrapped in G.o.d knows how many layers of gauze to cover up the terrible swelling.

With a weak voice, I ask Pusysdeva what happened. Turns out it was just the usual robbery that occurred in the region. The bandits had taken stock of our group, which even after counting the carriage's driver consisted of only six men, so they decided to attack us head on. But Pusysdeva and his group of friends are all trained soldiers, and each of them could take on four men himself. The bandits were thus quickly rendered powerless and could barely escape. The men were all fine; it was only me who was unlucky, having hit my head against a boulder and lost consciousness as a result. But that's not what scares me. What worries me the most is my still healing wounds being aggravated once again because of this incident. The bones near my wounded area were already pretty sensitive, now they are facing even greater danger [of becoming broken].

Pusysdeva explodes in anger at this point. He wants to punish the cowardly driver who ran away at the first sight of trouble, but I manage to calm him down. After all, the driver was merely acting in accordance with his survival's instincts.

The court physician is here to change my dressings. After my sleeves are pulled up, I can only look at my arm in disbelief. If not for the fact that it's clearly connected to my body still, I would have laughed and said, this is not my arm but stewed trotter! My wounds look heavily infected and at this rate, can easily lead to necrosis. Good G.o.d, how has it come to be like this? These wounds have been plaguing me for almost half a year, even though I have tried my best to treat them all this time. How can my healing ability be so terrible?

"Ai Qing, don't be afraid!"

Pusysdeva grabs hold of my other arm. He looks even more scared than I am.

"Wait for me, I will go to the palace and find the best medicine for you."

Having said that, Pusysdeva immediately takes off with the physician.

Left by myself, I lie on the bed and let my thoughts wander. What exactly is the problem here? Is it because I have used the time machine too many times and have been infected with irradiation? Will I lose my arm for good?

The more I think about it, the worse it gets. Unable to bear such heavy thoughts any longer, I sit up. I tell the maid in attendance that I want some quiet time alone. After that, I grit my teeth and drag myself to Pusysdeva's room. He must have hidden my time watch in a hard-to-find place. I try knocking on the wall here and there [to find hidden compartments], then move on to the bookshelves. I can only use one arm so my movements are slow. My insides are full of nerves. Who knows when he will return?

Using the bed frame as support, I kneel down and put one hand underneath to see if I could find anything. My hand seems to touch something. Overjoyed, I pull the item out. It turns out to be an ordinary rectangular box, about the size of A8 paper [2.0 x 2.9 inches, or 52 x 74 mm]. I quickly open the lid, only to freeze upon seeing what's inside.

Even though it's drawn with the barest number of strokes, it's still easy to tell that it's an image of a cheerful girl smiling brightly, dressed in simple clothes, face fresh and pure. That girl is me! The drawing was done using my sketchpad and pencil.

The next page is a drawing of me from shoulders up, eyes s.h.i.+ning and twinkling, accompanied by my signature silly grin. After that is a drawing of me perched on top of a camel, face contorted as I struggle to remain seated, looking as if I'm about to fall off any second. Then it's a drawing of me falling asleep at the desk, hair spilling out and hiding half of my face. Another drawing depicts me t.i.tling my head to the side and mouth open wide, looking rather ridiculous. Probably me singing? There's also a drawing of me sitting in deep concentration as I read a book…

"Touched?"

Startled, I jerk backwards and send the box tumbling into the ground, making the pages fly everywhere.

Pusysdeva crouches down and picks up every page, stacks them together and gives me an enigmatic smile.

"If I tell you that these drawings were done by me, would that make you fall in love with me?"

"I-"

Tears start to roll down my cheeks with me knowing.

"Pusysdeva…"

He flips through each page, eyes glued to the drawings, face forming a sad smile.

"These drawings are very soulful, aren't they?"

The later drawings are not as good. The strokes are rougher, and there are signs of them being erased over and over. My face looks rather stiff, not as natural it was as the previous drawings. When Pusysdeva turns to the last few pages, the person depicted is no longer me. Instead, they are drawings of Rajiva done by me. Warm smile, one shoulder uncovered by the robes, body thin and lean. Though the drawings seem lifelike, they do not fully depict the n.o.ble aura he usually exudes.

"I also wish that these drawings are mine." His eyes are still glued to the pages while his hands tremble. "Because that will definitely move you."

"Ai Qing, I was only ten when I first met you, and we only spent three months together. As I grow older, I can only remember that I met a celestial being, but not how she looks like. In my memory, I can only recall some of the songs you sang to me, your laughter as you played with me in the courtyard, and your warmth. You probably can guess who drew these. The girl in these drawings has such bright and innocent eyes, something I cannot find in the girls I've been with the past years. The sight of those eyes seems to unlock my memories of you. The sceneries come back like a flood. You taught me how to play 'rock paper scissors', how to make snowmen, how to write in Han. There's us playing 'soldier' and the 'enemy'. There's also you patting me gently on the back as you sing me to sleep. Everything is so clear it feels like it was only yesterday. From then on, I begin to yearn for you, wanting to see you once again."

"These drawings…I stole them. He doesn't dare asking me for them, but I know he has been here looking for them many times. I would often flip through these sketches whenever, but after a while, I would start to feel angry. How is it possible that he was able to draw you so well, so full of energy and lifelike, so much so that every time I look, it only makes me want to see you even more. He has never been known for his drawing skills, which means that he must have drawn you inside his heart a thousand, a million times, to be able to achieve this quality of work!"

With trembling hands, I reach out towards the drawings. Pusysdeva hesitates for a second before giving them back to me. I carefully turn each page and watch as the rough strokes transform into smooth, bold lines, and finally, completely natural and lifelike. Is this the reason why he confessed to me that whether it was ten years ago, or ten years since there, he has never been able to follow the precepts? I have unwittingly entered his heart, have reached the very bottom and stayed there this entire time.

I cannot even bring myself to cry. The hole inside my heart is expanding and expanding, to the point where I feel like I might just lose it [my heart] altogether.

"Ai Qing!" Pusysdeva grabs me by the shoulders and yell out in a panicked voice.

"What's wrong with you?"

What's wrong with me? A drop of blood falls down and splatters over the page, blurring out my silly smile. Another drop blocks out one of my twinkling eyes.

A hand reaches out in a hurry to block my nose, making the fingers all b.l.o.o.d.y in the process. I lift my head up and catch Pusysdeva looking completely terrified. I want to tell him that I'm fine, but as soon as I open my mouth, blood trickles out and splatters onto my portraits as tiny red flowers. My body feels heavy, increasingly so, and things are swimming upside down in front of my eyes, then it all suddenly becomes silent.

When I open my eyes again, I am back in my room. Pusysdeva is sitting next to my bed, bags heavy under his eyes. Seeing that I'm awake, he starts to ask me all kinds of questions.

I gesture to him that I want to drink water. He immediately brings over a cup of hot water. The hot water returns some feeling to my body. After that, I look at him in silence. I don't want to say anything, don't even have the energy to say anything.

"Ai Qing, don't look at me like that!"

He turns his head away, voice breaking.

"Ever since I saw you looking at those drawings, I knew I have lost. Actually, I have never won. It's always been him for you, has been since ten years ago."

Pusysdeva takes a deep breath and shuffles his trembling hands in an effort to remain calm.

"He should be back soon. I have told someone to go and inform him."

Shocked, I jerk upright, but the pain makes me flop down again.

Pusysdeva rushes over and holds me down, eyes tinged with both sadness and worry, while his voice trembles with emotions.

"When Rajiva arrives, I will ask the king's permission for him to return to the lay world. If my brother doesn't agree, I will use my fists on him."

"No!" I yell out with my weak voice.

"Why not?" He leans closer with a hard glint in his eyes.

"Do you not love each other? So why must you make yourselves suffer like this? If he truly loves you, he should be able to renounce his status a monk."

Tears stream down my face.

"It's too late, Pusysdeva…"

The wounds that are slow to heal, two nosebleeds, and now even vomiting blood, clearly my health has suffered terrible damage after these time jumps. Though I don't know exactly which illness is afflicting me, I know I cannot stay here any longer. I must hurry up and return. I don't think my injury is limited to that soon-to-be broken arm. I bitterly realize that this is the price one has to pay for changing history.

"R-Return that bracelet to m-me," I struggle with every word, "If you d-don't want me to d-die…"

"Ai Qing!"

Pusysdeva pulls me into a hug, his voice breaking.

"It's all my fault. I forced you to stay, forgetting that celestial beings do not belong to this earthly realm…"

He slowly lowers my head down onto the pillow. His eyes are brimmed full of hot tears, lips trembling: "I will return you to the sky."

It doesn't rain in Kucha very often and less so in the fall. But on my last day here, heavy rain pours down endlessly. The sky is a dark gloomy cloud, as dark as my heart feels at this moment. Pusysdeva lets everyone in the Residence take the day off, so that no one will be disturbed by my sudden disappearance.

I have gotten too weak, and with only one functional arm, I am unable to put on my anti-radiation clothes properly. Pusysdeva takes the clothes and helps me put them on.

If I'm not as ill as I am at the moment, my face would have probably turned as red as a tomato. This is the first time I'm allowing a man to help me put clothes on, and within such a close distance at that. I'm leaning against Pusysdeva's arm, cheeks burning, as I guide him on how to pull up the various zippers. Even though his hands are clumsy, he is very focused in his task, careful and gentle in his movements, constantly asking if I feel pain.

His face is also red, but his eyes are full of sorrow; I look away, unable to handle the sight. My injured arm is too swollen, making it hard to put it through the sleeve. Sweat pours down as I struggle. He immediately stops his ministrations and lifts my arm up to observe, eyes incredibly sad. I signal for him to continue. He clenches his teeth, looking like it's taking all of his effort to help me put my arm through the sleeve. When the fabric brushes against my wounds, I feel like I might faint from the searing pain.

"This is the first time it has taken me so long to get dressed." I bite down the pain and tell him with a small smile.

Pusysdeva is a bit surprised by that, his face contorting into lopsided smile.

"This is also my first time helping a women get dressed." His eyes pause at the lion jade pendant around my neck. He reaches forward and touches it gingerly. "Promise me that you will always wear it, so that you can remember me from time to time."

I nod. Feeling like I'm about to suffocate in this sorrowful air, I try to put on my signature silly smile one last time.

"Pusysdeva, let me tell you about the 'law of three gra.s.ses' that the boys in my school must remember when pursuing the girls."

As expected, Pusysdeva becomes curious: "'Law of three gra.s.ses'?"

With a grin, I tell him: "A rabbit doesn't eat the gra.s.s by its own burrow. A good horse doesn't come back to the same patch of gra.s.s. And lastly, there is no lack of good gra.s.s in the world." *
* These are three Chinese idioms, which in the context of romance mean the following: The first one means you shouldn't date someone within a social setting you often frequent, like your co-workers, or your friend's lover (or in this case, your brother's love interest). The second one means a breakup should be done cleanly; also means one should not try get back a lost love. And the last one is similar to 'there are plenty more fish in the sea', meaning there are plenty good women/men around still, so no need to feel discouraged. You can probably guess why Ai Qing is telling Pusysdeva these idioms.

Amused, he mumbles the idioms to himself a few times, looking somewhat funny doing so, and tells me in a joking manner: "This is your last chance [to reconsider]. Once I become a good horse, I will never go back to eat your kind of gra.s.s."

I burst out laughing, ignoring the pain that shoots at my arm in the process. It's been a long while since I last saw Pusysdeva looking like himself.

At last, he helps me put on the Han outfit, and then brings over the two Northface backpacks to me.

"I really don't want you to be wearing these two giant bags. Your body as weak as it is-"

"No worries, just help me put them on."

Afterwards, Pusysdeva pulls me into a gentle hug, his movements more careful than usual.

Seeing that he's not letting me go after a long moment, I finally speak up: "I have to go."

Pusysdeva slowly lets me go, then turns his head to ask: "You're not waiting until he returns? He should be here any moment now."

I shake my head.

I remember that night in Subas.h.i.+ City, Rajiva has asked me if I wanted him to return to the earthly realm [stop being a monk]. Let's say I ignore history altogether and make the great translator monk k.u.marajiva disappear. Then what? What will become of him? He has such great aspirations, has his own outlooks on life to follow. If he has to leave the place he has lived since birth and cross over to the modern world and be an 'ordinary' person, would he be able to accept it? Would he be able to adapt to such a life?

Those fairy tales often end with the princess and prince living happily ever after, but what about the life after that last page? How will a life together look like for them? The struggles of a modern daily life will soon overtake any novelty he felt originally. He will quickly feel adrift, not knowing how to act, having lost his direction, his path, in life. No matter how great the love is, it's still not enough to nourish the broken spirit of a person who has lost their aspirations. I am not so cruel as to force him to make such a life-changing decision.

I am a very practical person. I am returning to my time to preserve my life. If I absolutely have to go like this and do not want him to feel conflicted, then might as well not meet him. Seeing him again would only bring unnecessary pain to both of us. Moreover, if I see him again, I'm not sure I would be able to hold onto my resolve. Leaving without a word is probably the best goodbye for the two of us…

"When will you return?"

"I do not know."

I smile weakly. It's true, I really don't know. I don't know what kind of illness will befall me after this time jump. I don't know if the research team will let me time travel again. And even if they do allow me to, I'm not sure I would be able to return to this particular time and place. There are too many uncertainties, too much left to chance, that the probability right now looks near zero. So we probably will not be able to meet again…

"First, it's best not to meet,
For meeting leads to love.
Second, it's best not to know,
For knowing leads to yearning."

I mumble to myself a poem by Tsangyang Gyatso*, the 6th Dalai Lama of Tibet. The desolation, the weight of those words, strike a chord within me. I feel like I have aged a few decades.
* If you recall, the t.i.tle of this novel comes from one of his poems. Those familiar with Bu Bu Jing Xin might recognize the poem mentioned here [I certainly did]. The original poem only had 4 lines as shown above, but was later adapted into a longer poem of Ten Rules by a web author, and then into a song. Ah, it brings back all the feels a.s.sociated with Ruo Xi and the 4th prince…

I think I've left my soul behind in this place. The only thing I'm really bringing is this tired body-no, this empty heart of mine…

"Ai Qing…"

Pusysdeva hugs me one last time before giving me a soft peck on the forehead. I can feel the heat of that kiss lingering on my skin, as if it contains all the sorrow of our goodbye. It takes him a while before he finally lets me go. At last, he helps me put on my helmet, closes up the zipper, and slowly walks towards the doors. But still he lingers for a bit at the doorstep, seeming to not want to leave.

"Pusysdeva!" I yell out when the door finally closes. "Be happy! Go and find a woman who will love you with all her heart!"

"I p-promise," his voice travels through the door in broken syllables, "that w-when you r-return, you will see how happily I have lived…"

I push the b.u.t.ton. The green light begins to flash and the countdown begins. I take one last glance around the room, at the pages of crooked Han characters on the wall that Pusysdeva penned when he was a kid, at the portraits Rajiva drew of me, which Pusysdeva has promised to give back. This entire world will vanish in less a minute. Me leaving, hopefully it will erase everything…

Right before I time jump, I suddenly hear a piercing scream coming from far away. Whose is it? Whose voice is it that called my name with so much despair, that made my heart ached so? Why can I not see-

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Ramblings: Here we are once again with Ai Qing leaving to return to her time, except this time around, the goodbye feels even more poignant than the previous one. My heart ached for our main OTP. But! Fear not, this is not the end of the story. There are still more chapters to come [me staring at the daunting mountain ahead…].

Now, I have an announcement to make about Ch. 35-37. These 3 chapters are actually 3 parts of a side story about Pusysdeva from when he was young (his relations.h.i.+p with his father, his mother, and his brother), to the times he met Ai Qing. They are written from his perspective. Which all sound pretty interesting at first glance. Except the thing is, I have decided to NOT translate these chapters, not even to summarize them, for the time being.

It’s sort of hard to explain fully why. Part of it is me being biased (towards Rajiva), which means I’m not as invested in Pusysdeva’s side of the story. Part of it is also because from a critical point of view, the 3-part story reads to me like some sob story about Pusysdeva, to help explain why he became who he is–a playboy, often jealous of his brother, etc, which I mean, sure, that’s good to know, ’cause I’m always in favour of fles.h.i.+ng out a character so that they are more 3-dimensional. But it feels a bit heavy-handed here, for the author to insert these 3 chapters into the story at this juncture. It’s like I’m being forced to sympathize with Pusysdeva, to forgive him for his earlier transgressions. I know, I probably sound kinda harsh and unforgiving here, but I do want to make it clear that I don’t hate Pusysdeva. I’m just not fond of the way Xiao Chun has written his character. It’s not that I need everybody to be upright, moral characters in a story. I just felt Pusysdeva lacked realistic character formation and development. I’m rambling again, but yeah. Lastly, I also just want to skip ahead to resume Ai Qing’s journey, which again is me being biased ?

That said, the last bit of Ch. 37 does tell us what happens right after Ai Qing disappears from the brothers’ lives, meaning it picks up from where Ch.34 (above) ended, so I will be translating that. So next post will be Ch.38, with a little excerpt from Ch.37 inserted before.

You are free to voice your opinion otherwise if you do want me to translate or at least summarize Ch.35-37 (though I think summarizing them will make it even worse, so it’s either translate them fully or not at all). Make your arguments, I’m listening ?

I might also come back and translate Ch.35-37 after I finish translating the entire novel, which er I know sound very very far away, but I’m just putting it out there as a possibility.

As always, do leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! Whether it’s about this chapter, about the story as a whole, or whatever. I’ll be replying to some older comments soon.

Until next time, everyone~ Take care of yourself, be kind to yourself even in weary times, and know that I wish you all the best in whatever you do, wherever you are.