When dawn broke, the yakṣiṇī set out for the sacred mountain of Kailāsa. There, the matted-haired Kapardī graciously imparted to him the special knowledge that attracts yakṣiṇīs. With devotion, he recited the auspicious mantra, yearning for the presence of the wish-fulfilling yakṣiṇī. Yet, she did not appear. Disheartened, he bowed respectfully to his parents and returned to spend the night in his own home. Later, he journeyed to the forest of Pratibodhivana, where he became a disciple, seeking deeper understanding. Even in that holy place, the yoginī goddess did not manifest, and his heart grew heavy with anxiety. Troubled, he called out once more, “O goddess, why did the beloved yakṣiṇī not come to me?” In response, he was taught profound wisdom: “O brāhmaṇa, there are three kinds of actions necessary for the accomplishment of success. One must understand the actions performed through a beautiful body, and also those arising from speech and body together. In the other world, in the realm of the ancestors, only actions done with the gross body are remembered. But here, in this very birth, actions performed with mind, speech, and body bring accomplishment. Therefore, practitioners must engage in threefold action in this life, for otherwise, in another birth, one attains the state of a yaksha. Thus, the twice-born devote themselves to these practices.” Having spoken thus, the Vetala’s face brightened with cheerfulness. He praised him, saying, “Excellent, excellent,” and honored him with noble words. Now, in the city of Vasankaṃbalaka, there lived a king named Sudaksha. He was just, righteous, brave, generous, and deeply devoted to Shiva. His daughter, Dhanavati, was beautiful, auspicious, and prosperous. In time, another daughter named Mohini was also born to him. Fate turned, and Dhanavati became widowed, her father having passed away nearby. In those days, there was a Brahmin named Nyayasharma, who was known for stealing sacred wealth. All at once, a woman of the Vaishya caste approached him and touched his hand. In distress, she repeatedly cried out, “O Rama, Krishna, Pradyumna, Aniruddha!” The Brahmin explained, “I am a Vipra; for three days I have been placed upon a stake.” Hearing his plight, Dhanavati decided to give her daughter Mohini in marriage to him. The Brahmin said to Mohini, “Listen, O beautiful one, whenever you have a longing in your heart—” But before he could say more, he met his death and departed to the realm of Yama. Mohini, now a young woman in the bloom of youth, remained in her mother’s house. Questions arose: What pleasures exist, what wonders, who keeps vigil, and who sleeps? Thus spoke the twice-born, but the Brahmins present did not offer any reply. To Mohini, the one with serene mind explained, “Listen, O enchanting and beautiful one: the wise know that bed, ornament, and enjoyment are eightfold in nature.” Day after day, beings die and are also born anew. The one who, having attained discernment, undertakes the gathering of actions—he alone understands. He who recognizes the serpent of worldly existence and develops detachment while living on earth is truly wise. From intention arises desire, and from that, greed is produced. One who is born of the nature of water possesses taste and its modifications. In the Kali age, from Rudra arose delusion, which destroys people from within their hearts. From that delusion, false perception was born and became its beloved. From the union of delusion and false perception, suffering was born, accompanied by sorrow. Yet, proud, heroic, clever, authoritative, and virtuous was the friend who stood by. To Mohini, the Brahmin gave a child, and having received gold in return, he departed.