Struck by the arrow of desire, the king became bewildered and, overcome by his emotions, fainted and fell to the ground. When he regained his senses, he ordered that a palanquin be brought into the royal assembly. As the beautiful woman was brought forth, those present wondered aloud, “Whose wife is this? From where has this most excellent woman come?” To this, a man replied, “This beautiful woman is mine; she is the daughter of Ratnadatta.” Another voice added, “O king, the wife of my servant is always suitable for you.” Hearing these words, the king, his eyes red with anger, confronted the speaker. He declared, “If I take that lady, the servants of Yama will drag me to hell.” Yet, even after saying this, the king remained tormented by the fire of separation and began to act quickly, unable to bear the agony of his longing. At that moment, the Vetala addressed the king: “Listen, O king.” Suddenly, right there in the assembly, the commander of the army was reduced to ashes in an instant. The souls of all those involved ascended to heaven. The question arose: whose merit among them is considered greater? Is it proper for the servant alone to die for the sake of the king? After all, a beautiful woman was given by a servant for the king’s sake. But, truly, one who conquers desire and protects dharma acts rightly, for dharma is superior even to the king. Now, O greatly fortunate king, hear another delightful story meant for you. In the ancient city of Ujjayinī, there was a king named Mahāsena. His son, Guṇākara, was devoted to wine and meat, and his behavior caused his relatives to abandon him. Wandering the earth in isolation, Guṇākara encountered a yogi named Kapardī, who worshipped him by making offerings with skulls. In honor of Guṇākara’s hospitality, Kapardī summoned a yakṣiṇī, a mystical being. When morning arrived, the yakṣiṇī departed for Mount Kailāsa. Before she left, Kapardī bestowed upon Guṇākara the knowledge needed to attract yakṣiṇīs. Guṇākara recited the auspicious mantra, but the wish-fulfilling yakṣiṇī did not appear to him. Disheartened, Guṇākara bowed to his parents and returned to his own house to pass the night. The next day, he journeyed to Pratibodhivana and became a disciple there. Yet, even in that sacred grove, the yoginī goddess did not appear, and Guṇākara was troubled by anxiety. He pleaded, “O goddess, why did the beloved yakṣiṇī not appear to me?” A wise brāhmaṇa replied, “There are three kinds of actions for the accomplishment of success. One should know the actions performed by a beautiful body, as well as those arising from speech and body. In the other world, in the realm of the ancestors, actions performed with the gross body are remembered. In this birth, actions arising from mind, speech, and body grant accomplishment. Therefore, practitioners must perform threefold action here; otherwise, in another birth, one attains the state of a yaksha. Thus, the twice-born is devoted to this path.” Having spoken thus, the Vetala’s countenance became cheerful. He praised the king, saying, “Excellent, excellent,” and honored him with noble words. Next, there was a king named Sudaksha in the city of Vasankaṃbalaka. He was a just, righteous, and brave ruler, generous and devoted to Shiva. His beautiful daughter, Dhanavati, was both auspicious and prosperous. In time, another daughter was born to him, named Mohini. After some years, Dhanavati became widowed, and her father passed away nearby, leaving her in sorrow. In that land lived a certain Brahmin named Nyayasharma, who was known as a thief of sacred wealth.