Chapter 15

Casting my hands around, I feel something soft and fine. My eyes open, then quickly close after getting assaulted by the sunlight. My landing this time is on a desert once again. I seem to have an affinity with deserts, though I do not know if it is the same era and place. I stand up, inspect all the equipment inside my bag, and then check my upgraded time-travel watch. Fortunately, the signal light is green, meaning everything is okay, and that the scientists’ efforts over the past 5 months have not gone to waste. Having learned their lessons last time, the scientists stopped using the unstable solar energy to power the device, and instead switched to using sophisticated Lithium batteries. I heard that the batteries were BYD’s newest product, much better than Sony’s.

Of course, my successful time-travel last time has caused a huge uproar, on the same par as Yang Li Wei’s first travel into space. I disappeared for more than five months. The research team was unable to confirm whether I was successful or dead. During that time, my boss was worried sick, having no clue how to explain to my parents [what was going on]. Until one afternoon, when I fell out of the sky and onto the willow tree outside the experiment room, breaking many of its green branches.

During the past 5 months in the 21st century, I was very busy. I had to go through a physical examination, submit reports, and also embark on a trip to Xinjiang with my boss for a month. The ruins of the Kuchan capital are located at the center of the old and new Kuqa City, which the locals called the Ancient City Pilang. I followed the archeologists around to study and examine the ruins of the capital, the citadel, the “strange” temple, and the main square. Then I helped the linguists decipher the Tocharian language in the museum.

pilang ancient city

Ancient City Pilang

Finally I wandered around on my own amongst the ruins. Looking at the rows of houses, the farmlands in the surrounding areas, I could see the foundation that was laid over a thousand years ago, but not a trace is left of any other features. I was overcome with a feeling that couldn’t be described. For me, everything was whole and animated a few months ago, yet now it was merely a site of ruins 1650 years old. Those people full of vigor from a few months ago, in a flash had become a few words on paper. Standing on the hills where a magnificent citadel once stood, my ears rang as if a gentle voice was still speaking to them.

“Ai Qing, tomorrow I will give you a tour around Kucha.”

“To have such great snowfall, the Kuchan people are really blessed.”

“Don’t be scared. Keep your eyes closed, they’ll be fine in a moment.”

Every time that happened, I would frantically look at all directions, and only when I realized that the brown kasaya robe I saw was merely an illusion, did I come around. Rajiva, are we perhaps in the same space, only 1650 years apart? Are you doing well? I smiled sadly, what a foolish question that was. His destiny, how could I not know?

When we went to study the Kizil Caves, I stood in a daze for a long while before the statue of Kumarajiva laid in front of the caves. The statue depicted Kumarajiva around 30 to 40 years of age. One leg is folded and his right hand is placed on the knee of that leg. Wearing the kasaya robe that exposes one shoulder on his tall and thin body, together with that high forehead and long brows, the statue gives off an image of great intelligence, a big heart and an otherworldly aura. Although not as animated as the real person, I felt the sculptor had at least captured his aura accurately. I had not seen Rajiva’s appearance as an adult, but looking at the statue, I fell into a trance. I took a photo of me standing in the statue’s shadow. At night while writing my reports, every time I got tired I would pull out the photo to look at. I wished I could see Rajiva again, the Rajiva in adulthood.

[T/N: next paragraph omitted, it’s just about a mummy in the museum that has flattened forehead like that of Jiva’s and other Kuchan royalty].

The original plan was that after my research trip at Kuqa, I would have a meeting with Buddhism experts on Kumarajiva. Even though I only knew Rajiva for a short time, it was still first-hand experience—any information that could be gleamed was invaluable. But all of a sudden, my boss received a phone call from the research team [at the university], so the two of us hurried back to the experiment room to prepare for the second crossing, ah no, the fourth time to be exact.

This time, all the equipment was upgraded. I no longer had that uncomfortable feeling when flying in space like last time. However, they could not control where and when I would land, only estimated it to be around two thousand years ago. The room for error was about 500 years, give or take, meaning I could be anywhere between the last years of the Warring States and the Northern Southern Dynasties. From last time’s experience, I decided to wear the loose Han outfit once again. This outfit was quite common and was also in use for the longest time in history.

I look at the scenery before me. The similarities between the two times I time-travelled give me a strong feeling that I have indeed returned to that place! As such, my heart no longer panics. I try to figure out how to escape this desert and find a place with people. After looking around, I realize that I have landed at the edge of the desert, near a small forest of poplar and red willow trees. The poplar trees far ahead seem quite dense and green. I decide to head in that direction.

Right now is the end of May, so noon on the desert is extremely oppressive. I need to find water. The poplar forest seems so dense, so the water source must not be far. When a big lake appears in front of my eyes, I get so excited that I fly to it.

It is hard to imagine that in this vast desert, such a big lake would exist. More importantly, there are people near the lake. Happy that I am able find my own kind amongst this wilderness, I hurry over. But when I almost reach their side, I reel to a sudden halt. My first instinct is to turn around and run in the opposite direction. But I have not yet run a few steps before an arrow thuds into the spot next to my foot. Terrified, I stop and put my hands up:

“Don’t shoot! I surrender!”

I then get taken to the group of people I saw earlier, around twenty in total. Looking at the way they dress and carry themselves, faces all crooked and scary, it is obvious that they are bandits. There are around ten more people who are kneeling on the ground, their hands and feet tied, trembling in fear and glancing at me in sympathy. They look like Persians. Next to them are a number of horses and camels, grazing without a care. I guess that they must be a group of merchants that got robbed on the way.

Well, I did land near the Silk Road, where robbery often happened on a regular basis. This is the first time I have gotten involved in this kind of occurrence; will I have to resort to weapons? There is a small stun gun in the pocket of my anti-radiation jacket. My boss warned that only in emergencies, am I allowed to use it, because it is a modern invention and its presence will alter history. My boss always tells me to not do anything that will alter history, but did he not think that my time-travelling itself is one such action?

The bandits are discussing with each other in Tocharian that I can understand, though there is a dialect, not the Kuchan accent I knew.

I wrack my brains trying to figure out how to escape. I am not as resourceful as Xuanzang, who was able to use words to disarm the bandits he met on his way to India, making them surrender and follow the Buddhist way. So after some observation on the situation between the two sides, I decide: to defeat enemies, one must first capture the leader.

I quietly put one hand into my pocket and touch the gun. Fortunate for me, the bandits see me as a weak girl so did not bother tying me up like the Persians. I smile sweetly at the bearded man on the carpet, who is eating his grilled meat in a carefree manner. I inch closer to him and coyly speak in Tocharian: “Great Lord…”

I bite down my lips in an attempt to shake off the tremble that is taking over me.

The brute smiles and extends his greasy hand towards me. I take another step forward and make it seems I am about to fall into his lap, but at the last second, I suddenly pull out my gun and shoot him. This stun gun is quite impressive. The brute has not time to react before falling down in a heap. Using the moment of confusion, I take out five more bandits nearest to me. Using my most authoritative voice, I tell the rest of them: “Lay down your weapons and I will not kill you!”

To scare them further, I shout: “This is a poison that acts very fast, if you are not afraid, come here and try!”

Perhaps my weapon from the 21st century gave them quite a scare. The remaining dozen bandits can only look at their unmoving brothers on the ground. Of course I was only bluffing. My stun gun is very small, can only shoot an opponent within five metres distance. So when the thieves lay down all their sabres, bows and swords, I let out a quiet breath [of relief]; my clothes are soaked with sweat at the back. I hurry over to where the Persians are to undo their bindings. But the knots are too tight so I end up pulling out my Swiss Army Knife to finish the task.

[T/N: Ai Qing is quite a badass, eh? Courage is not fearlessness, but the ability to take action even in fear.]

I do not have to worry about the rest. The remaining bandits are scared of the weapon I have in my hand, and faced with a group of armed Persians chasing them, they quickly run away. The Persians use their most solemn ceremony to thank me. In their group, there are a couple of people who can speak Han, and one person who knows Tocharian. Even though they are not fluent, but with both languages filling in each other’s gaps and the use of body language, we can understand each other for the most part.

I pull out a map collection from my backpack and ask them to locate where we are. This map collection is very special. It was drawn according to known geography 500 years before and after the Han dynasty. I turn to the page on the Western Regions. Because it is written in Han, it takes a long while before they can point out a location relative to where we are, which is near Luntai (Bügür). I examine the map carefully and realize I have landed near the edge of the Taklamakan Desert. To have a field of grass in the extremely arid Taklamakan Desert, it must be the famous Lop Nor Lake* ! This place was inhabited by the ancient Lop Nor people who survived by fishing in this lake. But I do not see any houses around here. Perhaps they reside at another edge of the lake. Whether those bandits were the Lop Nor people, it’s hard to say. Luntai is located about 80km from Kucha. Using the camel’s speed (on average 20-30km/day), I estimate that it would take at most 4 days to get to Kucha.

*a former salt lake in China, now largely dried-up, located between the Taklamakan and Kumtag deserts in the southeastern portion of Xinjiang, China; also known as the “mysterious moving lake”.

Kucha, every time I think of that place, my heart would beat fast and that thin, lanky figure would appear before eyes. I wonder how old he is now. I ask the Persians what year it is. They can only supply me with some information:

The Central Plains is still in the Former Qin state of Fu Jian (though they are not clear the year of reign).

The Kuchan king is still Bai Chun (they only know he is around 40 years of age).

Only heard that Kumarajiva is a famous monk (the Persians follow Zoroastrianism, an old religion, so they do not know much about Kumarajiva, a Buddhist monk), and about 20-30 years of age.

They just passed Kucha and are on their way to Chang’an. But because I just saved their lives, they are willing to accompany me back to Kucha before resuming their journey.

It’s not that I do not want to go to Chang’an. If my boss is here, he would have told me to depart for Chang’an immediately, and thus achieved another aim—researching the famous Silk Road since the Northern and Southern Dynasties. But another voice keeps ringing inside me, urging me to go to that place, to meet him again. After reaching adulthood, how will Kumarajiva look like? If I can meet him again, my research will become more meaningful. Furthermore, I did promise Pusyseda that I would definitely return. I have to keep my promise, no?

We quickly gather water and begin our journey, afraid the bandits will return. Those that are lying unconscious will recover after 24 hours. It’s very likely that they will exact revenge. Everyone is afraid and wants to leave this place as far behind as possible.

I adjust the time on my watch back two hours, to match Xinjiang’s local time.

By the time we arrive at a camping location, the sky has become full of stars. It is a site of ruins, no longer habited by people. According to the Persians’ pronunciation, this place is called Tahanqi. The site seems very old, the walls have survived years without maintenance, most of them have collapsed, and under the moonlit night, the ruins appear even more desolate. There are farmlands around so we must have gotten out of the Taklakaman Desert.

We set camp near the walls. The Persians generously set up one for me as well. The man who could speak Han tries to tell me that this place is connected to the Han dynasty. But because that person’s Han is not fluent, it is only after many body gestures, do I somewhat get what he is saying. He tells me, this citadel was built by a Han person, a great general, whose strategic skills are like that of a god. A Han person? Great general?

Can it be the Tagan City that was built by Ban Chao? Tahanqi and Tagan sound similar. It might be the Persians pronounced it wrong.

My heart beats fast. The Tagan City was part of Kucha, and was where Ban Chao set his military base when he received the title of Protector General of the Western Regions. In the modern times, the exact location of this city is still unknown.

Then does it mean that mystery is finally solved?

I stare at the broken walls underneath the moonlight, the ruins of a glorious past that are silently recounting the military prowess of the father and son generals [Ban Chao and his son] from over 250 years ago. The Western Regions’ Frontier Command, now merely a desolate site of rubbles. By the 21st century, not even a trace of the ruins will even remain. In the night, listening to the Persians praying to their scriptures beside the fire, which I do not understand, their religious zeal adds a sacredness to the air, making the atmosphere even more desolate than it already is.

I am in the Sixteen Kingdoms period, a chaotic period for the Central Plains, where different states war with each over for control, so nobody pays attention to the Western Regions. That’s why, since a long time ago, Kucha no longer had to obey the decrees of the Central Plains. Bai Chun [Kuchan king] allied with the Hu people in Central Asia and planned to dominate the Western Regions, causing unrest in the surrounding areas. Fu Jian’s main goal was unification, and with the support from Shanshan King and Cheshi King, he ordered his general Lu Guang to conquer Kucha. Bai Chun was backed up by the Hu army, totalling about seven hundred thousand, but it was still not enough to defeat Lu Guang’s one-hundred-thousand army. Bai Chun escaped. His younger brother, Bai Zhen, ascended the throne. Kucha would then become a territory on the map of the Former Qin. And Rajiva’s fate will also take a drastic turn from then on…

I don’t know why, but my heart constricts in pain at the thought…