Chapter Eighteen: The Temple of the Sun

The royal palace of Saudi Arabia was situated very close to the old prince’s residence. In the time it took to exchange a few words, the car had already stopped at the grand entrance of the palace.

Following the old prince inside, they passed through a corridor that, to Liu Yunfei’s eyes, resembled more a colossal mosque than a royal residence. The architecture throughout the palace was classic Arabian—domes rising with rounded, pointed tips, flat walls pierced only by tiny windows. Though located in the arid, rainless Middle East, the palace was surrounded by lush greenery and gentle streams. The long corridor especially impressed Liu Yunfei: more than a hundred massive pillars of white marble, each over thirty meters tall, lined the hall in a solemn and majestic array. On one side, a vast reservoir mirrored the columns; a cool breeze swept through, bringing with it a refreshing chill.

Entering the grand banquet hall, Liu Yunfei saw a crowd of men in various styles of Arabian robes. He made his way to the innermost part of the hall, where an elderly man—his red headscarf framing a face marked by perhaps seventy or eighty years—extended his hand warmly from afar. “Welcome, my dear friend from China.”

Liu Yunfei quickly reached out to shake his hand.

The old prince introduced him, “This is His Majesty, our King of Saudi Arabia, my uncle, Abdullah bin Abdul.” He turned to the king, “And this is my good brother, Liu from China.”

Waving his hand in acknowledgment, the old king led Liu Yunfei to the front of the hall. After a gentle cough, the great banquet hall fell silent. “Brothers and sons of our royal family, allow me to introduce the guest of honor today—Mr. Liu from China, a noble visitor sent to us by the Most High. Please permit me, on everyone’s behalf, to present you with this cup of coffee.”

Amidst applause, Liu Yunfei accepted the coffee. Following Arab custom, he placed his hand on his chest and bowed slightly to the king and the assembly. He was about to take a sip when King Abdullah’s voice rang out, “Now, let us pray.” Liu Yunfei halted just in time, narrowly avoiding a gaffe. As he looked around, he saw the entire hall kneeling in prayer, with only himself left standing—awkwardly alone, for he had neither reason nor knowledge to kneel or pray. All he could do was watch the devout faces around him, murmuring unfamiliar prayers for quite some time.

“Come, let me introduce you to our colorful Arabian cuisine,” the old king said cheerfully, taking Liu Yunfei’s hand again. But Liu Yunfei, still shaken from past experiences, felt a wave of dread at the mention of Arabian food. Even the sight of roasted dishes now turned his stomach. Thankfully, the old prince interjected, “Let’s go to the small lounge. We already dined before coming.”

The three of them entered a nearby lounge. The furnishings were simple: a few large sofas, and on one side, a substantial desk. The old king waved the servants out and invited Liu Yunfei to sit.

“Brother Yunfei, today I mainly wish to express my gratitude. Please, don’t be modest. Whatever you require, if it is within our power, we will offer our most precious treasures to thank a friend who has helped us.”

Liu Yunfei felt a bit embarrassed. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about what to ask for. “There’s no need for that—I only lent a hand. If I ever do need anything, I’ll come to you then. Your hospitality has already honored me well beyond the treatment of a state guest. Truly, I am honored.” His words did not quite match his feelings.

“I know that you Chinese are very reserved, as are we Arabs, unlike our Western friends. Nevertheless, we have prepared a small gift for you, though I don’t know if it will please you,” said the old king, nodding toward the prince.

The prince walked to the large desk, picked up a thin booklet, and placed it before Liu Yunfei. “A gesture of our appreciation—please accept it, Brother Yunfei. If I hadn’t lost my bag on the yacht, I would have written this for you myself.”

Suddenly, Liu Yunfei remembered that the prince’s bag was in the Light Jade Slip, along with those few kidnappers. “Here’s your bag—my apologies, I forgot. As for those kidnappers, I’ve kept them as well. I’ll arrange for someone to deal with them immediately.”

He picked up the booklet and saw it bore the name of the National Bank of Arabia. Embarrassed, he didn’t study it closely, but wondered if it was some kind of bankbook.

The old king spoke again, “My dear Chinese child, rather than simply give you something, we would rather let you choose for yourself. This is a bank draft for two hundred million US dollars. You can withdraw cash or transfer it at any bank worldwide.” The main difference between a bank draft and a bill of exchange, he explained, was that drafts required neither a payee nor a transfer, and could be cashed unconditionally. Unlike checks, which could bounce, a draft for two hundred million meant the bank had two hundred million in actual reserves.

“Two hundred million US dollars—” Liu Yunfei was startled by the figure. To give so much? Even if the prince had been kidnapped, the ransom would never reach such a sum. The prince was being exceedingly generous. Was there something more they wanted?

“In fact, half of this is from King Abdullah, because we have a small matter for which we hope to ask your help,” the prince explained.

So there was no such thing as a free lunch. Liu Yunfei said, “Your Majesty King Abdullah, you are too gracious. If there’s anything you require, please say so. As long as I am able, I will help. But this sum is truly too great.” He hesitated, but faced with such an amount, found it hard to refuse. Yet, if it involved betraying his country, humanity, or posed great danger, he would not agree.

The prince read his concerns. “Don’t worry, Brother Yunfei. We would simply ask you to accompany the king’s beloved grandson for a while. He has been beguiled by those devils of the Temple of the Sun. We hope you might guide him, keeping him from contact with those heretics who worship Iblis—the symbol of Satan and evil in the Quran.”

Liu Yunfei had many questions. “The Temple of the Sun? You mentioned them once—they were behind your kidnapping, weren’t they? Aren’t they making their fortune in the international futures markets? Why do they want to mislead the young prince? And why choose me? I know nothing of Islamic doctrine.”

“Let me tell you a long story, but please, have some coffee first,” the prince replied, perhaps fearing his own thirst as he prepared to speak at length.

“Thousands of years ago, before the birth of Islam or Christianity, our Arab ancestors worshipped fire. Over time, this evolved into a religion, founded by a man named Zoroaster—hence it was called Zoroastrianism, or the Fire-Worshipping Faith.”

Liu Yunfei knew something of this ancient faith, a fire-worshipping religion whose teachings influenced later Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. It was said that the Ming Cult in China was a branch of Zoroastrianism.

“Later, in 610 AD, the great founder of Islam, Muhammad, while meditating in the Cave of Hira near the holy city of Mecca, received revelation from the angel of Allah and established Islam. By then, Zoroastrianism had declined, but many adherents remained. They dared not oppose Allah directly, so they turned to beguile one of Allah’s angels—namely, Iblis. Iblis, proud and arrogant, soon defied Allah’s commands and became a notorious traitor. Since he was granted leave to live until the end of the world, he descended among men, an eternal enemy of the Muslims,” the prince continued.

“Iblis is a different kind of being. He can dwell within people’s hearts, constantly using human weaknesses to entice the less resolute into betraying the Lord. You could say he is a demon of the heart.”

“The great Prophet Muhammad, to forever suppress Iblis, knowing his own end was near, selflessly imprisoned Iblis within his own body, ultimately perishing together with him in the holy city of Mecca. But Iblis was only sealed away; as long as the world endures, he cannot truly die.”