Death and Life Hang on a Single Thought

Chang'an was draped in mourning white. The funeral procession for Li Chengqian was even grander than Li Shimin's had been.

Only, compared to that time, there were far fewer chieftains of the foreign tribes from the four borders.

That was the difference between the men themselves.

Li Chengqian had not measured up to Li Shimin. This spectacle was largely because Li Xiang wished to display his majesty, and had the court officials organize such a grand procession. The funeral procession passed by the Great Ci'en Temple, its clamor shaking Heaven and carrying into the temple grounds.

Li Zhi, who had been sitting with his eyes closed and chanting sutras, suddenly opened his eyes.

"Master, what is happening outside?"

he asked.

Xuanzang, already over eighty years old, opened his eyes, paused, then closed them again.

"...It is the funeral procession for Gaozong. It has passed the Great Ci'en Temple."

"Gaozong?"

Li Zhi froze.

"Awakened Dust! After all these years, have you come to understand?"

Xuanzang suddenly asked.

His question brought Li Zhi back to himself. He fell silent and pondered for a long while before finally shaking his head.

"Perhaps I will never understand what Master wished me to understand in this lifetime."

At those words, Xuanzang remained silently speechless.

Late that night, Li Zhi died.

When Xuanzang received the news, he showed little surprise. He merely ordered that the news be delivered to the palace, then recited a Sutra of Rebirth for him.

After that, he never asked about it again. Death was one's fate; life and death had their ordained measure and could not be forced.

"You have grown old, Xuanzang."

Qing Nü sat atop the wall of the Great Ci'en Temple, looking at Xuanzang.

Hearing that voice, Xuanzang froze.

He looked up at Qing Nü. A trace of