I have an unlimited number of shikigami

It was a flower bed, with clusters of pure white flowers, looking exceptionally pristine from afar. Mrs. Kasahara said as she crossed the lawn, "I brought Asuka here once when she was little, and there wasn't this flower bed here then."

She bent down to take a picture of the flowers, and the pose with her buttocks sticking out had a unique charm.

"Back then, Asuka was still very clingy to Eri, right?" Fujiwara Izaya asked.

“Of course, they’re like conjoined twins,” Mrs. Kasahara said with a smile.

From Fujiwara Izaya's perspective, her skin was more delicate than flower petals, her features even more beautiful, and her cheeks had a slight blush from the sun.

"Oh, by the way," she continued walking down the mountain, "how do you plan to reconcile the two sisters?"

“We need to get feedback on Asuka’s training first,” Fujiwara Izaya asked. “Are there any exorcism requests around here? Let her try it out; it’ll be a good opportunity to test the results of her training.”

“You can ask the monks at the temple.” Mrs. Kasahara casually put her hands in her pockets. “I’m on vacation now, I don’t care about those things.”

She was thinking about the slightly high-heeled sandals on her feet, which were clicking comfortably.

The mountain path was lined with dense, short trees that meandered along, where goats and sheep wandered about, their neck bells jingling. The livestock were mainly tended by local children and the elderly. As the two men passed by, they first glanced sideways, surprised that such two divinely beautiful figures could appear in such a small place. Then, as if in respect, they gave a slight wave of their hand.

Fujiwara Izaya also raised his hand in greeting.

After descending the mountain, the two walked back along the seawall.

As the sun rises higher, the heat intensifies, and the rocks, sky, and sea shimmer with light; gazing at them for a moment can cause a slight stinging in the eyes.

Fujiwara Izaya stopped to buy water at a roadside convenience store, then watched the people fishing by the sea. Mrs. Kasahara took the opportunity to apply sunscreen to her face and arms. Every now and then, villagers leading donkeys brushed past, greeting them loudly: "Guests from Tokyo?"

"Yes," Fujiwara Izaya replied with the same enthusiasm.

"You're very good at communicating with people," Mrs. Kasahara said meaningfully.

“Of course,” Fujiwara Rin replied. “After all, even the chairman of the board is very kind to me.”

"You smooth talker!" Mrs. Kasahara kicked his shin.

A gasp came from the side, and the two of them turned to look at the same time.

An old fisherman caught a sweetfish, about 20 centimeters long, which was lively and jumping around after being brought ashore.

“Ah, I remember now,” Mrs. Kasahara suddenly laughed. “When I was little, I wrote a lot of haiku. Among them was a haiku about this kind of cave-dwelling fish.” She paused and looked at Fujiwara Izaya’s face. “It was about how the sweetfish was exhausted after spawning, its appearance was so ravaged, and then it swam into the sea all alone.”

"You have this kind of hobby?" Fujiwara Izaya almost laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me, which girl doesn’t write something during puberty!” Mrs. Kasahara suppressed Fujiwara Izaya’s smile with her authoritative gaze. “Although so much time has passed, I still miss those days.”

"High school?"

"Yes, it's during high school that we're most sentimental."

"It is now too."

“Haha, I’m old now…” Mrs. Kasahara stroked her youthful face as she walked down to the beach, letting the waves wash over her feet, and said, “Back then I was seventeen or eighteen, wearing a fashionable pleated skirt, and I was a very serious student.”

Fujiwara Izaya walked alongside her.

Imagine Mrs. Kasahara with her high school girl ponytail; she was a very diligent student back then.

“Sometimes I think it would be better to just be an ordinary person.” Mrs. Kasahara bent down, took off her shoes and handed them to Fujiwara Izaya, her bare feet sinking into the sand. “When I grow up and become the head of the family, I have to consider the family’s interests. Now that I’m a mother, I have to consider my daughters’ happiness. What am I supposed to do if the family’s interests conflict with my daughters’ happiness…”

The fox's tail has finally been revealed... Fujiwara Izaya, holding her sandals, thought to himself that she was trying to trick me into revealing information.

"Do you still remember those cheesy lines?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I remember some of it."

"Read it to me."

"Hmm... let me think." Mrs. Kasahara stood in the seawater, closed her eyes and pursed her lips. After recalling for a moment, she opened her bright eyes and said, "Now you surrender to the sea, ah! Autumn sweetfish; you know that death is coming, and the rushing current carries you into the sea."

"..." Fujiwara Izaya blinked.

He had initially thought it was just a silly poem about a horse with four legs, but it turned out to be quite interesting.

"No wonder he grew up in a big family, he's quite impressive."

“That’s right!” Mrs. Kasahara proudly put her hands behind her back and walked happily on the waves. “At the time, I wrote about myself as a sweetfish, which spawns and drifts downstream to the sea and dies. Isn’t that just like the women of a large family, whose lives come to an end after fulfilling their responsibility of passing on the family line?”

"It's not that exaggerated. Besides, how can Ayu compare to Kasahara-neechan's beauty?"

"Well……"

"Also, for the sake of Xiangyu, I will try my best to do things well and ensure a satisfactory outcome for everyone."

"Fujiwara-kun is so great!" Mrs. Kasahara jumped up happily, opened her arms and rushed towards him, "I want a hug!"

Fujiwara Izaya stood there with his arms outstretched, holding her shoes in his hands.

But just as she was about to embrace him, Mrs. Kasahara suddenly bent her knee and knocked him into the sea. Then, looking down at him with her delicate, noble expression, she said, "You can't have any ideas about your mother-in-law! Unless..."

Only half the story is told.

Then her brow relaxed, and a gentle smile appeared on her lips.

She was definitely hinting at something... Fujiwara Izaya thought about it again and again, and decided it was best not to get too carried away.

Since his clothes were wet, he simply started swimming in the sea.

At midday, when few people were on the beach, he ran in the clear, blue water, feeling an indescribable sense of exhilaration.

The beach was pure white, without a single blemish. Mrs. Kasahara shielded her eyes with her hands, her gaze fixed on his moving figure. In the white waves, his figure moved as nimbly as a pair of small dolphins, a sight that delighted the eye.

On the way back to the dojo, the esteemed lady remained barefoot. Her steps were small but energetic, and she seemed unfazed by the hot sand.

Chapter 124. Summer Festival, Watermelon, Danger Approaching...

As the sun sets, the evening glow filters through the gaps in the pine needles, making the branches and leaves shimmer as if they were on fire.

Fujiwara Izaya rode his Honda Civic and said goodbye to the two ladies at the door.

"I've gone out to find the two of them."

"Okay, have fun, you don't need to come back so early."

"Is there anything I can bring back for you?"

“Bring a grandson back for me.”

"Himeko!"

Amidst Mrs. Hoshimi's angry voice, Fujiwara Izaya rode his Honda Syaoran away from the dojo and headed towards Minami-Izuma-cho.

August evening.

The summer heat was intense and showed no signs of abating.

Along both sides of the coastal road, there were many pedestrians from nearby villages heading to the town. Among them, girls wearing yukatas were particularly eye-catching, and many people were carrying waterproof mats and parasols. Posters promoting the summer festival were also pasted on the utility poles along the road and on the walls of houses.

It is said that the summer festival in previous years only lasted one day, but this year it lasted for three days, and the entire Nan-indou Town was enveloped in an unprecedentedly lively atmosphere.

As Fujiwara Izaya drove past the shimmering waters of the Aono River, his body also gleaming with silver light.

My eyes kept glancing at the red wildflowers, and as I got a closer look, I realized they were spider lilies. They bloomed along the roadside, and whenever a vehicle passed by, the petals would sway, like hostesses warmly welcoming tourists.

At 5 p.m., Honda Koro entered the main road of Minami-Izumachi.

This is a small seaside town built on a hillside, with buildings scattered about. There are small bookstores, post offices, restaurants, etc., and trees, or persimmon trees or something, between most of the houses.

The ancient temple where the temple fair is held is located on the highest hill in the town. A two-kilometer-long stone staircase winds along the mountainside, with lanterns hanging on both sides, leading all the way to the old mountain gate at the top of the mountain.

Every summer in Japan, there are tens of thousands of summer festivals.

Large-scale events, such as the Hachioji Festival or the Sumida River Fireworks Festival, attract millions of visitors; small-scale events, such as a summer festival in a small street, only have a few dozen people.

Fujiwara Izaya never misses the summer festival every summer, and even the Kakushiro Town itself holds the Fukushiro Summer Festival.

Every year in late August, countless yokai gather in Nagano Prefecture to participate in a festival held by the Nagano Mountain God. Many gods also descend from Takamagahara, and besides the supreme goddess Amaterasu, Fujiwara Izaya's most vivid memory is of a giant radish called "Mishiro-no-Kami." It is the god of agriculture in northern Honshu, and its appearance... well, it looks just like the giant radish in *Spirited Away*.

This can be seen.

That old man, Hayao Miyazaki, might know something.

Upon arriving at the temple steps, Fujiwara Izaya parked his car and walked towards the meeting point.

The street was lined with stalls selling takoyaki, yakitori, yakisoba, goldfish scooping, and shooting games, of course. Nearby convenience stores and pubs also set up tables on the street, eagerly attracting customers. Overall, the flow of people wasn't huge, but given the limited space, it felt crowded.

On an open space in front of the steps, a group of people were dancing the summer festival dance.

The lead dancer was a priest dressed as a Shinto priest, and there were about a dozen young and strong men carrying shrines. They were all dressed the same: white headscarves, white cloth and blue patterned Japanese-style short jackets, tight belts, and Japanese-style "happy shoes".

Fujiwara Izaya bought a bowl of shaved ice and ate it while watching TV.

A moment later, a group of girls dressed in gorgeous kimonos appeared. They were all quite young, around fourteen or fifteen years old. Their faces were uniformly covered with thick white powder, and their eyes sparkled as if they had been washed.

In the center of the dancing girls, the girl leading the group had her eyebrows drawn slightly low, which made her quite cute. Her face was adorned with two round, bell-like eyes, and the edges of her eyes were smeared with rouge, giving her a charm far beyond her years.

It's impossible to find so many beautiful young girls in Nanyindou.

Fujiwara Izaya could tell with a grain of salt that this was a performance troupe that had been paid to come from out of town, and judging by their dance moves and luxurious costumes, they were probably the highest-class ones.

Even a small, dilapidated temple in a town of less than 20,000 people has the financial resources to hold such a large-scale temple fair... Fujiwara Izaya couldn't help but sigh that Japanese monks are truly wealthy.

I'm a little thirsty after finishing the smoothie.

The two little shrine maidens hadn't arrived yet, so Fujiwara Izaya simply ordered a milk tea from a roadside beverage shop and waited while drinking it.

Several potted camellias were placed in front of the beverage shop, with five or six mottled double-petaled camellias hanging from the neatly trimmed branches. Fujiwara Izaya, feeling bored, exchanged a few pleasantries with the owner.

"These camellias are really beautiful."

"Oh, the customer is talking about this?" The owner immediately became interested. "Double-petaled variegated flowers are not good. When it comes to potted plants, it's limited to camellias. Let me show you something better."

As he spoke, he went into the shop and brought out two potted camellia trees.

Two old trees, their trunks strong and vigorous, full of vitality. Small branches, about the thickness of a knife, still have leaves, and at their ends bloom two or three clusters of pure white flowers.

"I couldn't let the flowers stay on the tree all the time, so I plucked them off," the shop owner said with a smile, as if he were very proud of his work. "Although there were many flowers, I only left a few, and the whole thing looks even more beautiful."

Fujiwara Izaya talked to him about his experience in pruning bonsai and also about some of the lifestyle habits of the Nan-Yin Bean People.

As they spoke, the dancing girls left the stage. About half of them landed on the chairs in front of the beverage shop, while the rest strolled along the stalls on both sides. They were all heavily made up and dressed in gorgeous clothes. Fujiwara Izaya stared at them for a while, his eyes blurring, unable to remember whose face he was.

Judging from their accents when ordering drinks, they were all country bumpkins from the Kansai region.

After serving them drinks, the shop owner went back to chat with Fujiwara Izaya.

Compared to the beautiful young girl, he found the boy who could chat with him about bonsai more interesting. When he heard that Fujiwara Ryoma was waiting for two companions, he generously gave him two cups of milk tea.