Chapter Sixty-Six: The Meditation Chamber

Gu Qingcheng’s expression changed ever so slightly as she gripped her wine glass, her face a complex mask of emotions.

In this world, there is no such thing as true friendship between men and women. Between them, it is either a mere nodding acquaintance or an entanglement of feelings. Young Huo had rushed to the Zhaxilunbu Monastery at her single phone call—his intentions were crystal clear.

And you, Mr. Guan? And you, Miss Gu? Kalle’s tongue was beginning to stumble; his words tumbled out in confusion.

A loud clang rang out—the chandelier overhead trembled violently.

Guan Wen looked up; the eight-armed crystal pendant was swaying rhythmically, though there was no wind.

The spirits have come, Kalle blurted, suddenly sobering as he leapt to his feet.

From above, the thud of something heavy crashing to the floor echoed, followed by the shattering of what sounded like a vase.

Let’s take a look. Guan Wen sprang up, sprinting up the marble staircase at the back of the dining hall.

Gu Qingcheng followed close behind, both pistols already drawn. Young Huo, though he started a step later, was quick enough to catch up to them at the turn between the first and second floors, even overtaking them to take the lead.

At the very end came Kalle, staggering in his drunkenness, clutching not a weapon but half a bottle of fine wine.

The second floor of the main building was traversed by a long corridor running east to west, wide enough for ten people abreast, bright and spacious. Along the southern side, a row of twelve rooms stood, which Kalle had just finished describing.

At the eastern end of the corridor were two ancient white oak doors, each inlaid with a fierce bronze tiger-head knocker. Behind those doors lay the meditation chamber, with its stained glass east window.

They ascended and turned left, heading east to the third-to-last room—directly above the dining room—a library.

The heavy cherrywood door was tightly shut, but a key was left in the white bronze lock, no doubt forgotten by the servants during cleaning.

Without hesitation, Young Huo twisted the handle and slipped in sideways.

Gu Qingcheng darted past Guan Wen, ducked through the half-opened door, and unerringly found the light switch, illuminating the room with a crisp click.

The library was rectangular. To the left of the door, against the wall, stood two heavy black leather armchairs. The rest of the space was filled with twelve floor-to-ceiling shelves, crammed with ancient tomes of every color.

Lying on the floor was an enormous globe, over a meter in diameter, which had toppled off its bronze stand and rolled into a corner, knocking over a miniature display rack. Three Chinese porcelain vases had crashed to the ground and shattered into a pile of shards.

No one. Young Huo let out a sigh.

It was clear to all that to topple such a heavy globe would require at least a hundred kilos of force—delivered with considerable violence.

The servants are all outside; without my orders, none would dare enter, Kalle slurred from the doorway. That… that’s the work of spirits.

I’ll check on Baoling, Guan Wen said.

Wait a moment, Guan Wen. If Baoling is truly the reincarnation of Princess Chao Ge, she should be perfectly safe in there, for the spirit haunting this place would be none other than the former princess herself. Perhaps we should not disturb her and let her come out when she’s ready, Gu Qingcheng countered.

Guan Wen sighed softly. I just want to check on her. I can’t help but worry.

The light in Gu Qingcheng’s eyes dimmed abruptly, as if a pot of boiling water had been doused by an unexpected blow from below.

Guan Wen stepped away, striding eastward until he stopped outside the meditation chamber. He calmed himself, then knocked with the heavy ring.

Meditation is a way to alter one’s state of consciousness, allowing the practitioner to enter deep tranquility and enhance inner strength—ultimately fostering harmony between body and mind, left and right brain.

As an artist, Guan Wen had practiced yoga meditation to the point where he could control his emotions and enter a peaceful state for painting. In fact, the very act of calming his breath outside the meditation chamber was itself a form of meditation.

The door opened. Baoling stood there, pale-faced, with endless darkness behind her. Her hair had come undone and hung limply down her back, as if her spirit had been exhausted beyond measure.

I came to see you. You must be tired—why not come out, eat something, and rest for the night? We can start anew tomorrow, Guan Wen said. Seeing her worn appearance, his heart clenched with worry.

No need. True meditation banishes hunger and weariness. Here, my soul is utterly freed—no worries, no fears, no day or night. Don’t concern yourself for me. Come in and see for yourself—you might also find peace of mind and lay down your burdens, Baoling replied, stepping back into the darkness.

Guan Wen had barely lifted a foot when Gu Qingcheng’s voice called from behind: Wait, Guan Wen!

He turned to see her rushing over, blocking his way with an outstretched arm.

Don’t go in yet. There will be time tomorrow, she said.

Why? Guan Wen shook his head. Don’t worry—there’s nothing wrong.

Guan Wen, we’re not here on holiday. Each of us shoulders a heavy burden. Think of Caidan Dajie and Master Sangche—why did they burn themselves? Was it not to awaken you to the gravity of our historic mission? Your life no longer belongs to yourself, but to those who have devoted themselves to the cause of eradicating evil. I can’t stop you, but I must remind you of your duty… Gu Qingcheng pleaded earnestly.

Inside, the meditation chamber was so dim that even a step away, Baoling’s features were a blur.

Guan Wen looked up and sighed. Thank you, Qingcheng. But do you know? I must go in. If Princess Chao Ge’s soul is here, through meditation I can communicate with her, learn of her past. To read is to know people and events, to study history is to understand oneself. Every step I take is carefully considered. Don’t worry for me.

He gently pushed aside Gu Qingcheng’s hand, his fingers brushing hers as he passed.

Very well—then I’ll wait here for you. No matter what, I won’t leave, Gu Qingcheng replied, her eyes suddenly filled with sorrowful reluctance.

Guan Wen entered, and the door closed softly behind him, locking automatically.

The room was thick with the musty scent of incense ash, unsettling and oppressive, making his heart twist with unspoken anxiety.

He gazed up at the east window. Tonight there were neither moon nor stars, only the vague outline of the stained glass visible in the darkness.

Do you remember what Master Tianjiu said before he died? He claimed to be Princess Chao Ge of the Kanna family, who journeyed to Zhaxilunbu Monastery for the great mission of vanquishing evil, only to vanish without a trace. Since returning here, so many memories have surfaced. Or perhaps, the moment I crossed the Zhangmu border into Nepal, visions connected to the princess began to fill my mind. Once I entered the manor, her presence in my mind became almost alive. Time has not erased everything—our minds are merging, ever faster…

In the darkness, Baoling’s voice had taken on a mesmerizing, mysterious quality, completely unlike her usual tone.

I’m waiting for dawn. In the instant when the sun bursts over the horizon, that will be the moment of enlightenment promised to me by Princess Chao Ge, Baoling said.

Guan Wen listened quietly, neither questioning nor contradicting her.

He knew of Baoling’s nightmares. If her soul truly merged with Princess Chao Ge’s, those dreams would become memories of real events.

Will I lose her? The thought stabbed at his heart, again and again.

Guan Wen, stay with me until dawn. I’m truly afraid—after enlightenment, everything about you will be wiped from my mind, not a trace left. Baoling reached out, taking his hand.

The floor was laid with cold stone, the damp chill biting to the bone.

They sat side by side, backs against the west wall, swallowed by darkness.

Achieving enlightenment here is a blessing, for those dreams have always been the deadlock in your life. Don’t be sad—be strong and face it, Guan Wen said, gently wiping the tears from Baoling’s cheeks.

A month ago, coming here would indeed have been a blessing, for I had no attachments, only those relentless nightmares. But now, you are in my heart. Baoling placed her hand on his right shoulder, caressing the place she had bitten through his clothing.

Guan Wen was overwhelmed with words, yet none found their way out; after a long silence, he finally whispered, I feel the same.

Fate had played a cruel trick—bringing them together in just a month, only to cast their lives into turmoil and force them to choose between love and duty.

That is the true deadlock, Baoling’s voice trembled with sorrow.

So close, he could see the tears in her eyes shining like pearls in the night, making his heart ache unbearably.

Afterwards, neither could say who leaned in first—their lips met in silence, tentative and trembling at first, then deepening into a passionate, consuming kiss. Their youthful bodies pressed close, heartbeats thundering in unison.

That kiss seemed to last a century, draining them of all thought, strength, and spirit.

It was not a perfect ending, but when is life ever perfect? At least you have kissed me; at least I know your heart. I am truly content, Baoling murmured, her voice sweet with sorrow.

So am I, Guan Wen replied softly.

They nestled together, fingers entwined, forgetting time altogether.

How strange—it feels as if I’ve dreamed this scene before, Baoling whispered.

Look—a falling star, Guan Wen pointed toward the east window. In truth, there was only darkness outside, but in his mind’s eye, he foresaw a meteor streaking across the sky.

Where? Baoling asked. Even as she spoke, a meteor blazed past, trailing a sparkling tail from upper left to lower right, swift as lightning.

Baoling, I too feel this moment is familiar, but why? Guan Wen wondered aloud. If everyone has a past life, could his former self have been someone in Princess Chao Ge’s world?

I don’t know. I wish we had known each other in a previous life—then, even if I returned to her era, I could see you again, Baoling replied.

Guan Wen smiled wryly to himself; life rarely goes as one wishes. The possibility of Baoling’s hope was vanishingly small.

Tell me about Princess Chao Ge, he said.

Before entering the manor, I felt an overwhelming sense of coming home, and I knew every detail of the Summer Palace. Once inside, I went straight here. Everything matches my memory exactly, even the smells. Give me your hand—

Guan Wen reached out, and Baoling guided his hand along the wall behind them. It was paneled with smooth wood, carved with line upon line of script.

These I carved myself, long ago—every word a deep reflection on life, Baoling explained.

Guan Wen traced the letters for a while and found they were not in Nepali, but in traditional Chinese—some in regular script, some clerical, some seal, some cursive; every style was present.

On the Demon-Subduing Map, on the Demoness of Raksha, on the final battle against evil—Princess Chao Ge had inscribed her profound insights here for future generations. Reading them, I’ve come to understand her selflessness and devotion…