Xu Xiaobin - Dunhuang Dream

Zhang Shu said nothing more and instead adopted the respectful air of a subordinate receiving orders.

“Are you in your fifties?”

“Huh?. . More than fifty.” He laughed to himself. His stubbly beard must certainly have been enough to frighten anyone in the darkness of the cave.

“More than fifty and doing research on frescoes. Do you know when Buddhism was transmitted to the Kingdom of Khotan?”

“I haven’t read that much, but I recall that in the Record of a Journey to the Kingdom of Khotan it says that it was two hundred years after Shakyamuni entered nirvana. The King, Yu-Chi Sheng reigned, and Buddhism began to flourish in Khotan. .

“A little knowledge and away you go. I can see how much you know. Khotan was established two hundred thirty-four years after the Buddha entered nirvana; King Yu-Chi Sheng sat on the throne one hundred sixty-five years after the country was founded. Not bad, you had Buddhism flourishing one hundred years earlier in the Kingdom of Khotan.”

“I’m ignorant and ill-informed,” said Zhang Shu, fed up. “But I don’t have the slightest idea of what all this has to do with Lakshmi.”

Once again the woman laughed grimly. “Such a common fellow! Listen up and I’ll tell you. At first the king of Khotan did not believe in Buddhism. Later, a bhikshu by the name of Vairocan visited him and told him that the Tathagata had sent him. He said if you build a sunken relief for him, he’d let you rule forever. The king of Khotan replied that if he showed him the Buddha, he’d naturally do as he was told. Vairocan rang a bell and asked the Buddha to appear. The Buddha sent Rahula in the form of the Tathagata, manifesting his face in the sky. Henceforth, the king of Khotan believed in Buddhism. Do you know who Rahula is?”

“The eldest son of Shakyamuni.”

“I didn’t ask you whose son he was.” The woman had a quick and explosive temper. “He later became an Arhat. After the king of Khotan became a believer, the entire royal clan followed suit. Yu-Chi Yiseng, of course, was a member of the royal clan and an outstanding painter. During the Zhenguan reign period, the Emperor Taizong was uneasy about the Gansu Corridor and sent a massive force to guard the region. He also invited a number of members of the royal clan to the Central Plains — in fact, they were actually hostages. It was in those days that Yiseng came to the Central Plains. At that time the only paintings from the Central Plains that the emperor really liked were those by Yan Liben. But after Yiseng arrived, the emperor was crazy about his paintings. He did that painting of Lakshmi bathing.”

Zhang Shu didn’t utter a word; he marveled silently at how wondrous it all was. He never expected that such a coarse-looking woman, one who appeared to have no education, would know so much about the history of Dunhuang and Buddhism.

“But from the Zhenguan reign period to today is about thirteen hundred years. How was Yiseng’s painting preserved to this day? And how did it end up in your hands?”

“Good question.” Eyes lowered, she continued, “My mother left it to me. In the five prefectures of the Gansu Corridor, the only person surnamed Yu-Chi was my mother.”

“Then you mean to say that you are a descendant of Yu-Chi Yiseng? From Xinjiang? You’re so pleased to agree to let me see it, aren’t you afraid that I’ll want to keep it?” Zhang Shu continued to remain skeptical.

The woman looked up quickly. “No, I’m not afraid. I’ve looked after this place for thirty years. Good and bad, I’ve seen it all. It’s just—”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just that the painting is in bad shape. My mother said that when I was too little to know what I was doing, I poked out one of Lakshmi’s eyes.”

“Poking out a Buddha’s eyes means bad karma,” joked Zhang Shu to dispel the frightening atmosphere.

“It sure does. Take a look,” she said, as she removed her right eye. Her eyelid shrank back leaving a dark cavern. Zhang Shu was shocked.

“My daughter paid for this glass one.” The woman seemed unaffected as usual, as if her eye were worth no more than a marble. Deciding he had had enough talk, Zhang Shu stood up. He was scared out of his wits and wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

“If you’d like to see the painting, come up to the peak of Mingsha Mountain tomorrow night between eleven and one in the morning and get it.”

That was the last thing he heard as he left the cave, following which he looked up and saw the stars twinkling in the black sky above.

5

Just as Zhang Shu was having his first romantic experience after arriving in Dunhuang, a young man knocked on Xiao Xingxing’s door.

He was a student traveling from Beijing. He loved to travel to far-off places as cheaply as possible. He was now hungry and thirsty and had come to this cheap place on the recommendation of others. Who could have seen foreseen that only one light would have been on in the entire place? Who knows where Chen Qing had gone to have a drink? As a result, only Xiao Xingxing’s light was still burning.

6

Xiao Xingxing suddenly found herself assailed by the introversion of her youth, and for two days she was unwilling to see anyone. She couldn’t complete any task, and her mind was troubled by some nameless anxiety. All of this occurred after Zhang Shu had expressed his special feelings for her.

It ought to be said that she did have a good impression of him; in fact, she actually liked him at the beginning. She found him quite masculine in a sexy sort of way. After a few days of contact, she did reveal her charms to him. The more passionate she became, the stronger she expressed herself. She liked the way he looked at her and was pleased that she could attract the interest of such a splendid man. Subconsciously it was as if she wanted something to happen and she wanted him to express himself. She enjoyed hearing confessions of love. She had heard all sorts of confessions, but none like those she had read in fiction.

But after hearing them, she felt afraid. It’s the same with an actress who wins the hearts of her audience and then is afraid of losing them. She wants to do what is most pleasing to the audience, but not necessarily what is most pleasing to herself. In addition to fear, she also feels tired on account of this. She doesn’t know if taking off her dress and ornaments and lying naked on a bed like a slattern would make the men like her or not.

She knew what a man like Zhang Shu would expect from the woman he loved. Most of them are aesthetes, who only too quickly grew disappointed in the object of their love. It was precisely this loss of interest that she couldn’t tolerate. Her only choice, then, was to flee.

But at her age, wasn’t fleeing like a tiring old drama? She just wanted to try it for all she was worth, just once, regardless of the outcome, to experience the beauty of loving and being loved, just once.

But the moment she began to think this way, the experience frightfully soon lost its beauty. This was perhaps the reason she would never be genuinely happy.

7

He appeared before her eyes as if he had fallen from Heaven.

It was very quiet that night so the knocking came gently. When she opened the door, he was there, the calm light flowing over him. She saw that he was tall and thin, with broad square shoulders. She stepped back as if she had seen a ghost. As a result, her hair was outlined in the light, a quivering golden light. Then he seemed to see the fear appear in her eyes.

Her fears were an old story that arose between her dreams and how they came true. They had come true several times already, but not quite in this way, as the person in her dreams materialized, especially on such a peaceful night.