The Xingxiang Festival started at dawn with the sweeping of the roads, the setting up of draperies on the gates and gate towers, and the new decorations all around the city.
The exquisite Buddhist statues were placed on twenty giant four-wheeled carts, raised three or four feet high, and paraded around the main streets of the city. Each of the four-wheeled vehicles was beautiful; decorated with gold, silver, lapis lazuli, crystal, tridacna, scarlet pearls, and carnelian. Hung with curtains, covered in damask silk, each carriage was like a miniature portable palace. The Buddha statues were carved from gold and silver, with jade and pearl necklaces draped over their chests, slender and elegant, their postures solemn.
The people of the city came out. Men and women, young and old, no matter their identity, all changed into new clothes, cheering and following the huge carriages to the city gates, chanting the Buddha's name.
When Bisha took Yaoying out of the royal palace, the main street was swarming with people.
Xie Qing and Xie Chong frowned tightly. Afraid of being separated by the crowd, they followed closely by Yaoying.
Ashina Bisha explained every tradition to Yaoying along the way, thoughtful, patient, and enthusiastic. People in the crowd greeted him from time to time, to which he responded with a smile. He was exceedingly well-liked.
Infected by his mood, Yaoying temporarily put aside her worries to immerse herself in the Royal Court's lively and joyful celebration.
The long street under the city gate was laid with felt carpet. The twenty giant four-wheeled carriages slowly drove to the high platform under the gate tower. On the high platform, there was an incense burner table encircled by pearls and gold, reflecting and sparkling. The nobles and ministers in splendid attire stepped down from the high platform, took off their felt hats, and met the vehicles barefoot.
A clear and melodious tune floated over from the south. The impassioned crowd suddenly quieted. Everyone held their breath with rapt attention, consciously retreating to both sides of the road. Raising their heads, they gazed across the long street, their expressions respectful, eyes with admiration.
Yaoying followed the crowd's line of sight.
Under the guidance of monks, holding incense burners and dressed in vestments, lined up in two rows, an elephant clad in colored fabric and jewels, gorgeously adorned, came slowly from the south, with a throne on its back. A person sat on top of the throne, face like the cold moon, eyes like the lotus, holding a lotus branch in one hand, holding a lotus flower in the other. In a wide, snow-white gold-embroidered kasaya, eyes slightly drooping, the person was seemingly in meditation, surrounded by a faint halo of Buddhist brilliance, rather like a god.
Tumoroga was here.
He glanced at the crowd without emotion, as if all things in the world could not enter his eyes.
The crowd along the sides of the roads was quiet for a moment, then erupted into a resoundingly loud cheer. Everyone looked up at him, excited and glowing, falling over each other to throw flowers at him. Some wanted to touch the corner of his robe but were stopped by the blue-clad Central Army knights.
The music was mellow, the flowers floating down like rain.
The elephant walked before the high platform, docilely kneeling down. The nobles and ministers took two steps forward and knelt beside the elephant's feet. Tumoroga raised a foot and stepped on the minister's hands and shoulders to ascend to the high platform.
Xie Qing and Xie Chong froze for a moment and asked in a low voice, "Princess, what kind of practice is this? Their king actually stepped on the ministers' shoulders!"
YOU ARE READING
Thousand Miles of Bright Moonlight
Romance"Thousand Miles Bright Moonlight" will be adapted to chinese drama soon. Yaoying transmigrated into a novel. In the chaotic and troubled times, many nations were at war. Her father happened to be the most powerful of those vying for supremacy, her...
