Suddenly, as the Brahmin stood there, a woman of the Vaishya caste approached him and touched his hand. In her distress, she cried out again and again, calling upon the names of Rama, Krishna, Pradyumna, and Aniruddha. The Brahmin, revealing his plight, said to her, “I am a Vipra; for three days I have been placed upon a stake.” Hearing his words, the woman, whose name was Dhanavati, decided to give her daughter Mohini in marriage to the Brahmin. Later, the Brahmin spoke to Mohini, saying, “Listen, O beautiful one, when you have a longing in your heart—” But before he could finish his thought, death overtook him, and he departed to the realm of Yama. Mohini, now a young woman in the bloom of youth, remained in her mother’s house. In that household, there was a sense of emptiness: what pleasures could there be, what wonders, who kept vigil, and who slept? The twice-born Brahmin had once spoken a verse on this, but none of the other Brahmins could offer a reply. To Mohini, who had a serene mind, another wise one spoke: “Listen, O enchanting and beautiful one. Bed, ornament, and enjoyment are known by the wise to be eightfold.” He continued, “Day after day, beings die and are also born. He who, having attained discernment, undertakes the collection of actions—he who, knowing the serpent of worldly existence, develops detachment on earth—is truly wise. From intention arises desire; from that, greed is produced. He who is born of the nature of water possesses taste and the modifications of taste. From Rudra, in the age of Kali, arose delusion, which destroys people in the heart. From that delusion, false perception was born, and became its beloved. From the union of those two, suffering arose, accompanied by sorrow. Proud, heroic, clever, authoritative, and virtuous was the friend.” In time, the Brahmin gave Mohini a child, and, having received gold, he departed. After ten months had passed, Lord Shiva spoke to Mohini. In the middle of a swing, a thousand pieces of gold and the child were present. Following Shiva’s instructions, the king—who desired a son and was devoted to Rudra—acted accordingly. He performed the birth-rites and distributed great wealth. When his father passed away, the king inherited the kingdom and ruled with righteousness. But then, something astonishing occurred: three hands were born to the child, and the king was amazed. At this point, the Vetala spoke to the king, saying, “O King, a learned man who seeks wealth and a king who is like a guru are to be known as such. O Brahmin, having emerged from hell, he attained the world of heaven.” In another place, on the sacred mountain of Citrakūṭa, there lived a king named Rūpadatta. One midday, on the bank of a lake, the king saw the son of a sage. When their eyes met, it was as if both pairs of eyes became united as one. Simply by seeing the sage’s son, knowledge awakened in the king. The wise sage then spoke to the king: “The nourishment of unrighteousness through compassion, and giving equally without fear, has never happened nor will it ever happen. One should punish the undeserving and bestow the reward of honor upon the worthy. Truthfulness is the worship of the gods; self-control is the worship of the guru.” Having imparted this wisdom, the sage gave his daughter to the king and returned home. But soon after, a rākṣasa, eager to devour the king’s wife, appeared. For the sake of charity, this flesh-eater kept a twice-born boy of seven years. With the agreement of his ministers, the king gave a hundred thousand gold coins to the Brahmin. Thus, the stories of virtue, wisdom, and the mysterious play of fate continued to unfold in the world.