I have an unlimited number of shikigami

When Fujiwara Izaya walked in, Kasahara Fukaeri instinctively bowed her head in greeting.

Whether out of guilt or awareness of her status as his wife, she lowered her head so low it almost touched the ground. However, to protect the makeup on her forehead and her neatly combed hairline, she didn't let her forehead touch the ground.

Fujiwara Izaya noticed all of these subtle actions.

He sat down next to Kasahara Fukaeri and said with a smile, "I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting!"

Kasahara Fukaeri bit her lower lip slightly and did not answer.

I feel like whatever I say will be used by him to attack me, so I might as well not give him the chance.

Fujiwara Izaya turned his head to look at her: "What a beautiful outfit."

Hearing that bright and cheerful voice, Kasahara Fukaeri raised her head slightly: "Thank you."

As she spoke, the tip of her beautiful nose tilted slightly upward, and a hint of a smile appeared on her stunningly beautiful face, which she quickly suppressed.

Fujiwara Izaya waved his hand.

A maid brought in some food and wine, along with a small wooden box and a small stove. Then another pair of maids came in and removed the screen with cranes painted on it, replacing it with one depicting a short story from The Tale of Genji.

Finally, Fujiwara Izaya instructed the maid to turn off the chandelier, leaving only the fireplace for lighting.

The flickering flames dimly illuminated her vision. Kasahara Fukari stared at her reflection, her eyes blinking rapidly, and the hairpin in her hair shimmered.

The alluring and seductive paintings on the screen filled the entire room with an inescapable, ambiguous atmosphere that made one's heart race.

"Aren't you going to watch?" Fujiwara Izaya asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Kasahara Fukaeri glanced at the screen discreetly.

The scroll begins with a scene of a monk in monastic robes sharing a room with a young widow. The haiku technique makes the figures appear fluid, unrestrained, and lifelike.

The second part of the scroll depicts a monk pouncing on a young widow, attempting to force himself on her. Although the young widow struggles to resist, her clothes are already disheveled. The following scene shows the two intertwined, the widow's expression one of dazed pleasure, her brown tongue lolling out.

The third scroll depicts a young monk outside a room.

They peeked into the room, their excitement barely contained.

In the fourth illustration, the door is knocked down, and the widow tries to escape and hide, but her soul is so frightened that it flies out of her body and transforms into a hideous female ghost. She then turns and attacks the monks, tearing all their belongings off with her mouth.

Kasahara Fukari stared at it for a while, then frowned slightly: "Why are you looking at this?"

“Normally, I would talk to you about some of the Buddhist theories and ideas contained in the painting, but now…” Fujiwara Izaya shifted his body and leaned closer to her, saying, “Right now, I just want to look at the book with you.”

"..."

Kasahara Fukae looked at him silently for a moment, then tightened the collar of her wedding dress.

Showing his notebook to his boss? This subordinate is going too far… She thought with some annoyance that when she got back to Tokyo, she would definitely give him a major demerit so that he would never be able to get a promotion!

"You really have nothing to say?" Fujiwara Izaya looked her up and down with amusement.

The light shone on her face, giving her a regal makeup reminiscent of a woman from a dynasty, making her even more noble and beautiful. Her lips, adorned with Kyoto lipstick, exuded the charm of "fiery red lips."

"..."

Kasahara Fukaeri's delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly.

She, who has always been straightforward, is now facing a wall blocking her way.

You can either turn left or right.

After a long silence, Kasahara Fukari asked in her usual flat tone, "You should go out. As the hostess, you should go and keep the other guests company."

"The other guests can be handled by Mrs. Mei."

"...Then go and keep your Mrs. Riho company."

“Mrs. Riho won’t mind if I come to see Mrs. Fuka Eri first.”

"I am not your wife!"

"So you're saying you were lying to me about the wedding?"

"I don't!"

Suddenly, a surge of guilt and anger rose within her, and Kasahara Fukaeri immediately stood up.

"You can stay here if you like, I'll take my leave now."

"Oh dear, why is this?" Fujiwara Izaya sat leisurely on the tatami mat, not getting up to stop him.

"I'm never going to be fooled again!" Kasahara Fukari thought of her inexplicable wedding and felt a deep sense of disgust. Even Fujiwara Izaya, sitting in front of her, was categorized by her as a scheming villain.

Fujiwara Izaya didn't move an inch: "I came over here because I wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk with you alone. Look, I'm dressed in a formal suit, and so are you. The atmosphere in this room is also romantic and elegant enough; isn't it perfect for a heart-to-heart talk?"

"I don't want to talk!"

Kasahara Fukaeri was frustrated by her own anger.

I thought I could leave easily, but after standing up I couldn't walk anymore and had to listen to his next boastful talk.

"Actually, we're not going to talk about anything troubling, just about our inner thoughts. You don't need to worry about me getting rough with you—if the chairperson knew I dared to get rough with you, she might strangle me. Of course, if you don't want to listen, I won't force you."

When the topic of the chairman came up, Kasahara Fukaeri immediately felt guilty.

"Don't rush, sit down properly!" Fujiwara Izaya gave a slightly smug and elegant smile.

Left with no other choice, Kasahara Fukaeri had to bend over again and kneel down with her buttocks sticking out.

With each slight bend of her slender waist, the intricate wedding dress rustled softly. As her beautiful, snow-white feet were gradually concealed by the hem of her skirt, she exuded a refined and noble beauty.

Fujiwara Izaya poured some water into the teapot and then placed it on the stove.

The glowing embers burned gently as he fanned himself with a small, golden fan, saying, "After you returned to the inner courtyard today, I was taking a walk... and I saw someone who really surprised me. I'd like to ask, why didn't you tell me first..."

His tone was very casual.

But as soon as she said that, Kasahara Fukaeri immediately looked up.

This problem was hard to explain, and she had a gut feeling that something was wrong, so she couldn't help but feel her mouth go dry.

"You...she, uh..."

"You only found out after she came in, right?" Fujiwara Izaya asked with a smile.

That smile held trust and gentleness. Kasahara Fukarei breathed a sigh of relief and silently shrugged. This gesture seemed to be a silent way of saying, "I didn't tell you your secret."

"How careless," Fujiwara Izaya cursed.

Kasahara Fukari lowered her head shyly, staring at her exquisitely manicured fingers.

The charcoal fire flickered up and down, and the crackling sound of the embers made her heart race.

Fujiwara Izaya added charcoal to it.

Bright flames flickered among the black charcoal, their dazzling golden light illuminating the room's floor, while the noise outside did not disturb the deep tranquility within.

Both of them were watching the charcoal fire in the stove.

The constantly flickering flames resembled a silhouette painting of beacon fires across the sky.

Fujiwara Izaya dusted off his hands and suddenly said, "I knew it. If it weren't for the chairman, how could you have obediently married him?"

After hearing this, Kasahara Fukaeri slowly said, "It's good that you know..."

Tsk tsk.

That tone was quite resentful.

Fujiwara Izaya couldn't help but laugh.

Eri Fukamoto's character, who is both aggrieved and unwilling to admit defeat, is truly endearing.

“What’s so funny!” Kasahara Fukari glared at him.

"When you see the cute side of someone you like, you naturally want to smile."

"like?"

"Didn't you notice?"

"That sounds nice, but what evidence do you have?"

“Evidence,” Fujiwara Izaya waved his hand slightly, saying confidently, “Does truth need any evidence?”

Kasahara Fukaeri said with even greater certainty, "The truth you speak of is more like nonsense."

“But we’re already married,” Fujiwara Izaya said. “Are you planning to call off the wedding before the very first day is over?”

"...Just treat the marriage as a farce," Kasahara Fukari said in a detached tone. "Even if there is a ceremony, it will be meaningless."

How could you do this!

Fujiwara Izaya suddenly stood up, his emotions running high.

"I'm such a pure person, how could I treat such a major life event as a farce... You, you, you," he pointed at Kasahara Fukari, looking furious, and took several deep breaths, "I never thought you were this kind of person, you really disappoint me!"

"..."

Kasahara Fukaeri was so angry she almost laughed.

Bathed in the glow of the fireplace, she gave a cold laugh, her wedding dress radiating a bewitching brilliance, as dazzling as a rainbow encircling her.

"Alright, let's not quarrel on our wedding night." Fujiwara Izaya immediately changed his expression, and picked up the box that the maid had just brought with a smile. "This is a gift for you, please enjoy it."

Kasahara Fukae looked at the small wooden box.

The dark red wood grain, decorated with patterned paper, and the lid featuring a decal of a boy catching butterflies, all contribute to a distinctly courtly style. The decal depicts a naked boy excitedly chasing two butterflies fluttering side by side in the sunlight. The boy's chubby figure and plump body seem as if they were made of white, wrinkled silk, with round, bulging arms.

"What came from here?"

She opened the box as she asked the question.

A soft glow emanated from the box. She squinted slightly, catching a whiff of a thick, sweet aroma, like dried maltose. Upon closer inspection, she saw two small, round spheres, about the size of a baby's fist, coated with edible beeswax, resembling pastries.

"These are sweets my mother made herself before she went to Takamagahara. Please have some," Fujiwara Izaya said with a gentle smile.

Kasahara Fukari didn't suspect anything and took a small bite.

It has a soft and fluffy texture, smells very sweet, but doesn't taste too greasy. It's like eating some kind of rice flour pastry.

"Did that person say anything to you this afternoon?" she asked while eating.

“She’s very cunning; she wouldn’t say anything to me.” Fujiwara Izaya turned his head to look at her.

The firelight bathed her face in a radiant glow, making her appear incredibly beautiful, like an ancient painting on a screen. Her demure, high-bridged nose, paired with her eyes that shimmered in the firelight, was enough to induce a childlike restlessness in the viewer, yet her countenance remained serene and cool, preventing anyone from harboring any impure thoughts.