On a certain day, O king, Gunadhipa, that noble ruler, journeyed to the seashore. There, his eyes fell upon the image of the goddess—a vision of beauty and grace. Filled with joy and reverence, Gunadhipa worshipped the Gandharva maiden, whose brows were lovely and whose presence enchanted his heart. With palms joined in devotion, he stood before her, and in that moment, the goddess herself appeared. She spoke to him, saying, "Choose a boon." The long-lived king made his request, his heart full of desire. Hearing his words, the goddess laughed gently and addressed him, her voice carrying both amusement and compassion. Granting his wish, she said, "So be it." Gunadhipa then entered the water, floated away, and made his way to Mithila. News of these events reached the lord of virtues, who, accompanied by his servant, responded to the situation. The Gandharva maiden pleaded, "Accept me, O lord of virtues, in a Gandharva marriage." She addressed Punyade, saying, "Accept me today; then I will unite with you." The king replied, "Listen, you and my servant, for a long time, O Suram." Ashamed yet driven by passion, the woman recounted her story to the king. "Having reached the god for a long time, blinded by desire, I came to you. I was cursed by the lord of gods to become one who enjoys men." Hearing her confession, the king, righteous and embodying noble conduct, responded with understanding. "Ciramdeva, the Kshatriya, behaves like my own son." The goddess, feeling her shame, then behaved as a daughter-in-law. Afterward, the vetala, servant of Rudra, spoke to the king. The king addressed the vetala, saying, "O Vetala, truth and righteousness—listen to the auspicious reason for that. The highest duty of kings is remembered as benefiting all." He continued, "Hear the deed done by the servant, which I will tell you; all service and livelihood were performed, as by others, not by men." In time, the king came to know of a great crisis that had arisen. Then, a wise and knowledgeable one spoke to the king. "O king, in the delightful city of Kamapura, there was a great king named Virasimha. In that city lived a merchant named Hiraṇyadatta, who was filled with pride in his wealth. He lived always in comfort, delighting in the flowers of spring. One day, the strong son of Dharmadatta saw a woman as she was going. She, endowed with modesty, spoke to him in a secluded place. 'If marriage takes place, I will come to you on the tenth day.' Thinking, 'so be it,' he left her and returned to his own house. There was Madapāla the merchant and Maṇigrīva's daughter as well. On the ninth day, her master forcefully took the woman. Distressed by her friend's words, the wife wept. Her friend asked, 'Why do you weep, O one filled with pride? Tell the truth, O beautiful one.' She replied, 'If I do not come to your side, O Somadatta, best of the wealthy, by these words I am bound; today I will go to him.' Overcome by desire, she slept well at his side. The greedy one asked, 'Where are you going, O beautiful one?' Languid with passion, she replied to that thief, her mind disturbed by longing. The thief said, 'O lovely-browed one, give me your ornament, O gentle lady.' She answered, 'Embracing your lover, your friend, I will give you the ornament.' When the merchant saw her, he asked, 'How have you come, weary from love?' Thus, the tale unfolded, revealing the interplay of desire, duty, and the consequences of actions, as witnessed by kings, merchants, and goddesses alike.