National Tide 1980.

The new year has finally arrived—1991.

It was neither as tense as the Middle East nor as harmonious as the newly reunited Germany.

At the very beginning of the complete collapse of the bubble economy, Japan was still immersed in the chill of economic downturn, and even the lingering warmth of the New Year was frozen stiff.

In Tokyo, the pine trees in front of every house had just been taken down a few days ago, their needles still bearing the dry green of the leaves, yet they were already made all the more desolate by the sudden surge of "urgent recruitment for bankruptcy" signs on the streets.

The dusty promotional posters plastered on the street billboards, along with the expired New Year's greetings scattered on the ground, were swirling around in the cold wind.

In contrast, the neon lights in Ginza became increasingly dazzling, and the number of female escorts working in nightclubs and offices not only increased but also improved in quality.

However, this is not actually a good thing, because the surge in stunning beauties in Ginza actually illustrates the increasingly serious employment difficulties in Japanese society, with more and more young women having no better options due to the need to make a living.

Just like the news that the Ministry of Finance announced on January 1st of this year that banks would be allowed to advertise on television, radio and other media, this on the surface is a relaxation of financial policy, but it also shows that Japanese financial institutions are under increasing pressure and have to start trying to expand their business through advertising in order to cope with the upcoming industry downturn.

In this environment, Japanese society is like a machine running out of fuel, turning weakly and listlessly. If it continues to follow the rules, it will no longer be able to make money.

If you want to live a good life, you have to do what Ning Weimin said: endure what others cannot endure, do what others cannot do, and have some extraordinary means.

Zhao Chunshu and Nakamura Go, who had already received samples of various funeral products from mainland China from Ning Weimin, are now staunch practitioners of this concept.

Influenced by Ning Weimin's "preaching," they decided to switch careers to selling funeral products. Their core competitiveness, besides the cheap and high-quality goods from the mainland of the Republic, also included their courage to go all out in the underworld, their experience in exploiting human weaknesses, and their ruthless methods of breaking worldly rules.

…………

January 8, 1991, noon on the second Sunday of the new year.

Nakamura Go and the senior monk of Joshinji Temple, Shōten Gaku, sat facing each other in a ryotei (traditional Japanese restaurant) in Bunkyo Ward.

The private rooms deep inside the ryotei were filled with comfortable warmth, while outside the glass Japanese doors, fine snow was falling.

Jōshin-ji Temple is a 300-year-old temple located in Bunkyo Ward, Tokyo, and has long been a core provider of funeral services in the city.

Its business retains the traditional characteristics of "funeral Buddhism" while also meeting the diverse needs of modern society, covering multiple categories such as traditional funeral rites, innovative burials, and distinctive funeral services.

The temple even has a dedicated hall for handling secular funeral services, and the manager of this hall is the fair-skinned, over-fifty-year-old monk standing in front of Nakamura Go.

Needless to say, Nakamura Go went to great lengths to arrange a private meeting with the abbot in order to secure business with Jingxin Temple.

Not only did they give the middleman a very valuable gift, but they also discovered that the abbot had a hobby of collecting teacups, and promised to give the abbot a precious teacup worth a million yen as a gift.

That's how this relatively private, one-on-one meeting came about.

Even so, perhaps because Nakamura Go's appearance was too bold and his manner of speaking and acting was that of a rough and simple man, he did not catch the eye of this great monk.

In fact, after the two sides met today, the senior monk clearly regretted it.

This guy never gave Nakamura Go a smile, didn't touch his chopsticks at all in the face of a sumptuous feast, and even his words were full of veiled meaning and sarcasm.

"It really doesn't snow very often in Tokyo in winter, so whenever I see the garden with snow falling, I can't help but want to compose a haiku."

Tianyue twirled the knotted button on the collar of his monk's robe, his voice drawn out like a temple bell echoing around the beams—"Snow presses down on the bamboo, one must bend down, this fleeting world."

Then, without even lifting his eyelids, he glanced sideways at Nakamura Gou at the other end of the low table and asked, "So? Does Nakamura-kun share my feelings?"

The disdain in his words was blatant.

This monk Tianyue was certain that Nakamura Go was an uncultured and uncouth man, and this was a disguised way of using the word "refined taste" to draw a line between them.

It was as if Nakamura Go's mere presence at this ryotei was a desecration of elegance, and that he was utterly unworthy to speak with him.

At the same time, the image of snow bending bamboo branches is used to satirize the sadness of people having to bow down and compromise for survival in the secular world, and to remind Nakamura Go that he should have some self-awareness.

However, Nakamura Go did not show any shame as he had expected. Instead, he chuckled and acted as if he didn't care at all.

That wasn't all. Nakamura Gou then grabbed a glutinous rice ball from the table with his bare hand and bit into it, the sticky paste dripping down between his fingers.

“Master Tianyue, I haven’t studied much, and I’m not good at romantic things like haiku. I prefer practical rice dumplings.”

Such extremely rude words and actions immediately put the monk Tianyue, who originally wanted to show off, in a situation where he was talking to a brick wall.

As the saying goes, as long as I'm not embarrassed, it's others who are embarrassed.

Nakamura Go's nonchalant attitude made Tianyue Monk feel awkward, and he couldn't help but want to stand up and leave.

However, at that moment, Nakamura Go wiped his mouth, then pulled a gold-painted red lacquer box from his bulging black leather bag with a "clatter," and pushed it in front of Tianyue.

"Speaking of which, I'm sure the great monk knows why we met today. Let's not beat around the bush. This is what I promised you."

The lacquer on the wooden box was so shiny that you could see the folds of his monk's robe; the box alone was worth a lot of money.

Tianyue's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, and he temporarily abandoned his plan to leave.

That wasn't all. When Namura Gou "clicked" open the lid of the box, revealing the teacups inside, Tianyue stared at them intently, unable to tear himself away.

Even when Nakamura Gou tried to reach for the contents of the box, he became nervous and couldn't help but stop him.

"Don't touch it. If you take it like that, the contents of the box will be ruined immediately."

In the end, he carefully took out the teacup and placed it on the table.

At this moment, looking at the clear and soft outline of the teacup, he breathed a sigh of relief and then praised it with a hint of joy.

"I never expected someone like you to be able to find such a good thing. Whether it's the texture of the glaze or the red color due to the change in iron content, it's impeccable. The more you look at it, the more charming it becomes. It's really rare."

Nakamura Gou remained noncommittal, simply pulling out a gold-embossed business card and slapping it down next to the box.

"Master, this is the real reason I invited you here today. Nakamura Kibutsu Shop is mine; it mainly sells funeral supplies and Buddhist implements. I'd like to supply Jingxin Temple with these items in the future. Is that alright with you?"

The word "funeral" pierced Tianyue's eyes like needles.

He both resented Nakamura Go for ruining his mood and feared that the other party might think he could get what he wanted with just a teacup.

So he immediately moved the box half a foot to the side, showing an unmoved attitude of refusal.

In his haste, the hem of his monk's robe swept across the edge of the table, causing the sake cup to sway.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible. Our Jingxin Temple has established partners who have been believers in the temple for three generations, and they cannot be changed arbitrarily."

Monk Tianyue's tone was as cold as the snow outside the door.

However, Nakamura Go did not give up.

"What is fixed is not necessarily good."

As he spoke, he took out a bundle from his bag. The moment he opened it, what was inside surprised Monk Tianyue even more than the teacup.

Because it was an urn with extremely exquisite craftsmanship, inlaid with many gemstones and jade.

In addition, there was a string of Buddhist prayer beads and a small Buddha statue inside the bundle.

The craftsmanship of these two items is also exquisite, far superior in quality to the items currently used in Jingxin Temple.

“Master, take a good look at these things. The craftsmanship of those rough wooden items in your temple is incomparable to what I brought, but I can offer the same price as everyone else. Moreover, I am a grateful person, and as long as I make a profit, I will definitely not treat you unfairly. What do you think?” Tianyue’s eyes were glued to these items. It was precisely because he was an expert that he could see their quality.

At this moment, he really looked at Nakamura Go with new respect, because he couldn't understand how the other party, who was clearly a rough person, could find such good teacups and provide such good products.

Logically speaking, this is absolutely something that shouldn't happen.

How could someone without any artistic talent possibly find something so good?
Not scientific.

Besides, no matter how good the product is, it can't compare to the benefits that the old supplier gives him every year.

A teacup worth a million yen and these exquisite items were not enough to tempt him. After all, by maintaining the status quo, he would receive at least four million yen in benefits every year, which he could secretly pocket without the abbot's knowledge.

A full meal can't compare to a full meal every day.

So he shook his head and took out a handkerchief to carefully wipe his fingertips clean.

"Doing business is about relationships, and being a person is about feelings. Our partners donate a lot of money to the temple every year, and I can't do something ungrateful."

The "affection" and "feelings" he mentioned referred to the millions of yen in banknotes.

He wanted to see if this brute in front of him understood what he meant, and how much he could contribute.

Nakamura stared at his hand wiping his handkerchief for three seconds, then suddenly chuckled.

Unexpectedly, he actually understood, and then took out five stacks of banknotes from his black leather bag, placing them one by one on the table, which made the sea bream sashimi on the plate tremble.

“Five million.” Nakamura Gou’s voice was deep and resonant, like crushing stones. “This is my sincerity and goodwill.”

Tianyue's Adam's apple bobbed as if he had swallowed two meatballs. He was about to reach for the banknotes when he suddenly pulled them back and clasped his hands together again.

"Amitabha, Mr. Nakamura is trying to trap me in an unjust situation."

His eyes were closed, and his voice trembled like prayer flags in the autumn wind.

“The economy is in a slump now, unlike usual. The Sato family, who supply the temple, rely entirely on the temple’s business for their livelihood. If I cut off their supply, their whole family will have to worry about making a living—this would probably go against Buddhist compassion.”

He glanced at Nakamura Go, noticing the man's darkening expression, and added, "Besides, I won't be able to explain this to the abbot. The current supplier relationship has been maintained for so long; if we change it arbitrarily, the abbot will definitely question us. Although I am in charge of funeral affairs, I cannot make decisions on this matter, and I must explain this clearly to the abbot."

This statement was half true and half false. In reality, Monk Tianyue's true intention was to bet that Nakamura Go would raise the price further.

It should be noted that while five million yen is a lot, it exceeds the amount that the current supplier can offer him.

However, thinking that the other party was willing to pay so much money, they might not be unwilling to pay more, Monk Tianyue wanted to "scam" even more profit out of them.

Moreover, in business, taking initiative is paramount. In order to gain control over Nakamura Gou in future collaborations, Monk Tengetsu also needs to adopt such a "principled" stance.

But this time, he was wrong.

Nakamura Gou didn't play by the rules.

He shoved the envelope containing the money back, replaced it with a thin white envelope, and pushed it forward, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Master, don't be so quick to refuse. Why don't you take a look at this one too?"

Tianyue took it out of curiosity, but the moment he pulled out the contents of the envelope, his face turned as white as a plum branch in a niche.

It turned out that the envelope contained nothing but some photos of him.

One of the photos was taken the day before yesterday. He was wearing a navy blue suit and was seen embracing a woman in a kimono as they entered a love hotel.

The most troublesome thing is that his face, and the woman's face, are clearly visible—she is the wife of a devout believer in the temple.

Tianyue's fingers were trembling as he held the photo, but he still tried to remain calm and stubbornly refused to admit it.

"This... I may be a monk, but I also have a private life. This is nothing. If you're trying to threaten me, you've got the wrong idea."

"Is it okay to have a private life with a married woman?"

Nakamura Go smiled sinisterly, his words dripping with deadly poison.

"That woman's husband is the owner of a jewelry store, right? I heard he donates enough money to the temple every year to build half a Buddhist hall. Is this how you repay him? What do you think he would do if he knew his wife was having an affair with one of the senior monks?"

Nakamura leaned closer, looking at Tianyue with the gaze of a carnivore eyeing its prey.

“I have something even more interesting here—you and her lying in the same bed in a hotel. Want me to read you the date on the back of the photo? To be honest, I really didn’t expect you two to have so many tricks up your sleeves. For someone your age, this is quite remarkable. Great monk, you should be proud of this.”

Cold sweat trickled down Tianyue's forehead and into his collar, making him shiver.

He knew all too well what this meant.

If these photos were exposed, not only would he lose his position as the chief monk, but he would also be drowned in the spittle of his followers.

"You...what do you want?"

His voice was trembling with sobs, and the collar of his monk's robe was wrinkled from cold sweat. Tianyue could no longer maintain his air of a high monk, and his fierce demeanor turned into complete cowardice.

“If you want to replace Jingxin Temple’s original supplier, then I agree. But you must give me all the photos and negatives, and guarantee that no one else will know about this.”

"You're no longer in a position to negotiate with me. You have no choice but to accept all of this."

Nakamura Gou pushed the five million yen and the envelope to him. "Also, if you agree to cut ties with your old business tomorrow, I'll replace all the goods here—urns, Buddha statues, prayer beads—with these. I'll guarantee your safety. But I can't give you the negatives."

He paused, looked at Tianyue's pale face, and added, "By the way, I see that the Buddha statues in your Jingxin Temple are a bit old. You need to find a way to persuade the abbot to re-gild the Buddha statues in the temple this year. This job should also be given to me."

"What do you mean by rebuilding the golden body? That Buddha statue cost hundreds of millions to build..." Tianyue was so shocked that he almost jumped off the tatami mat, and the envelope in his arms fell onto his lap.

He hadn't expected this brute to have such a huge appetite, even more insatiable than himself. "The supervisor won't agree; it's too wasteful! Besides, this kind of engineering requires a very high level of technical expertise."

"What's there to be afraid of? I'll absolutely satisfy you technically, and after it's done, I can give you 10% of the construction cost as a bonus."

Nakamura Gou patted his shoulder, the force so strong it made him slump. "I believe you'll eventually find a way. Don't you?"

Tianyue quickly clutched the envelope to his chest, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tightly. The warmth of the money mingled with the coolness of the photograph, like a red-hot iron, burning his heart with pain.

He watched as Nakamura Go opened the glass sliding door, and the wind and snow, carrying a chill, rushed in, but the man's back didn't even sway—he couldn't quite describe the feeling in his heart.

He suddenly remembered that when he was discussing cooperation with the Sato family last year, the old Sato, in order to get more orders, drank with him in Ginza for three nights, and even knelt on the ground crying and begging him while drunk.

Nakamura Go had him completely under his thumb with just a stack of photos. Just who is this guy?

Ordinary people rely on relationships and patience in the business world, but people like Nakamura Gou are terrifying; they don't play by the rules at all.

Their "negotiation skills" are the ruthlessness of planning before acting and the unwavering determination to never let go once they have someone's weakness in their grasp.

Tianyue pulled out the photo from his pocket, his fingertips trembling so much he could barely hold it. The snow outside the window was falling heavier and heavier, but it couldn't hide the fear in his heart.

Snow presses down on the bamboo, one must bend down, this fleeting world.

He was only now realizing with horror that the words he had uttered on the spur of the moment were actually most fitting for himself.

From now on, the funeral business of Jingxin Temple will be less a collaboration with "Nakamura Kibutsu-ten" and more a matter of this shameless guy having it in his hands.

As for him, the high monk, he was merely a pawn in the other party's scheme to make money, and he didn't even have the right to say no. (End of Chapter)