I assembled the strongest swordsman group.

"Hmm. After I rose to fame, the Shimizu family probably wanted to win me over and curry favor with me. With a stroke of their pen, they forgave all of my father's gambling debts."

"I see...that's good."

"In short, that's basically my past, nothing much to mention."

Qingdeng smiled and shrugged.

"...Um...uh...uh..."

Sanako, who is usually very poised and elegant, now looked hesitant and stammering.

Qingdeng turned his head upon hearing the sound and looked at her face.

Sanako hesitated to look at Aoto.

Even if their eyes meet for a fleeting moment, they awkwardly look away.

After a long while, Sanako finally spoke in a muffled voice:

"Um... Tachibana-kun... you... you... ah, please accept my condolences... um..."

Qing Deng immediately understood: Sanako wanted to comfort him, to offer comfort to him who had such a tragic past.

"Ms. Sanako, thank you for your concern."

Qing Deng laughed.

“These things happened a long time ago, and I don’t care about them anymore.”

After saying that, Qingdeng added in his mind:

—After all, Tachibana-kun wasn't my father in the true sense of the word...

Tachibana Takayuki is the father of Hara Tachibana Aoto, not Aoto's father.

When searching for memories of "Hara Tachibana Aoto", it felt like watching a movie.

He might be moved by the plot of a movie, but that's about it. He won't fall head over heels in love with or hate a character in a film just because he watched one.

Therefore, Aoto didn't feel anything particularly deep about Tachibana Takayuki's death.

Hearing what Qing Deng said, Sanako's expression improved somewhat.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, gusts of cold wind, mixed with scattered snowflakes, lashed at Qing Deng and Sanako.

A cool sensation crept up Sanako's collar and into her clothes, then rolled into her abdomen through two large, perfectly round hemispherical arcs.

Sanako, who was sensitive to the cold, shivered and raised her arms, one hand covering her stomach and the other covering her chest.

Seeing this, Qing Deng pursed his lips thoughtfully, and then, as if he had made up his mind, he took half a step towards Sanako, standing closer to her. He then untied the scarf around his neck—only half of it—leaving one half around his own neck, while gently wrapping the other half around Sanako's swan-like neck.

In an instant, Sanako's beautiful eyes widened. She stared blankly at the black scarf around her neck that was connecting her to Aoto.

"Tachibana-kun, what are you doing?"

Sanako tried to remain calm.

"That way, the wind won't get inside your clothes."

Qingdeng said with a grin.

"This...this...it wouldn't be good if someone saw this..."

Sanako looked around anxiously while reaching out to grab her scarf, intending to take it off.

Before the scarf could be removed, Qingdeng said with a smile:

"Consider this a thank you gift for accompanying me tonight to rescue Ōtsuki Tsuneji."

Upon hearing this, Sanako couldn't help but chuckle and joked:

"A thank-you gift? Isn't this thank-you gift far too simple and casual?"

"Haha, whatever you want, just accept this little gift from me."

"..."

Sanako was still hesitant, but she slowed down her pace as she reached for the scarf.

At this opportune moment, Qing Deng launched a new "offensive"... or rather, he offered Sanako a new way out so that she could comfortably back down.

"If you catch a cold or get chilled, it will affect your swordsmanship training."

"...I just can't do anything with you."

Sanako's jade-like hands, which had been raised and held in mid-air to untie the scarf, continued to reach towards her pink neck, grasping the soft fabric still warm from Aoto's body—no longer untying the scarf, but tightening it even more.

"...This is a one-time exception."

Sanako's profile when she said those words looked a little shy.

As if she didn't want Qingdeng to see her shy expression, she lowered her head, half of her face slipping into the warm scarf.

"..."

"Don't laugh so strangely!"

Sanako finished speaking with a dissatisfied tone and glared fiercely at Aoto.

Her actions not only failed to achieve any effect, but actually had the opposite effect.

Qingdeng's mouth stretched wider to the sides, and his facial features became more relaxed.

He excitedly immersed himself in this ordinary yet blissful time.

“Ah, Miss Sanako, let me tell you some interesting stories from when I first started learning swordsmanship. I think you’ll find them interesting.”

"Interesting stories?"

The two slowly walked away.

The tranquil night and the serene mist gently enveloped the two figures connected by a delicate scarf.

At that moment, a strange feeling suddenly arose in Qingdeng's heart:

He seemed to be getting closer to Sanako.

Their bodies were pulled closer together.

Hearts were drawn closer together.

……

……

At this very moment—

Edo, Renya—

"I'm sorry, Lord Kitahara. My skills are lacking, and I caused you to lose."

As he spoke, Oishi Kuwajiro scratched his head.

Although he said "I'm sorry" and had an apologetic look on his face, his acting was really bad. Anyone with eyes could see that his apology was fake and he wasn't sincerely apologizing at all.

Kitahara Konosuke glanced at him indifferently and waved his hand:

"This is not your fault. You have done your best, and losing to Niou is not shameful. You may go and rest."

"Yes."

Kitahara Kōnosuke watched Ōishi Kuwajirō leave, then leaned back and lay horizontally on the soft tatami, staring intently at the brownish-yellow ceiling without blinking.

His gaze seemed to be fixed on something in the distance, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.

A moment later, a cold laugh, tinged with self-mockery, suddenly rang out in the empty room.

"Heh... Tachibana Takayuki... Tachibana Aoto... these two, father and son, really look alike..."

Kitahara slowly lowered the corners of his mouth that had been slightly upturned by his cold laugh, and the self-deprecating smile turned into a solemn and serious expression.

"The father and son not only look alike, but they also behave in a similar way. They both love to stand up for others... Hmph... Tachibana Takayuki, you are such a fool. If you had listened to me and stopped in time, you wouldn't have ended up like this."

……

……

Oishi Kuwajiro crossed his arms and swaggered out of the door of the house.

The cold wind blowing in his face forced him to raise his hand to tighten the collar of his cotton coat and the scarf around his neck.

As he raised his hand to cover the gap between his clothes and his body, his fingers accidentally touched his chest, the spot where Qing Deng's straight thrust had just struck him.

The pain had subsided... but the memory of being knocked away remained vividly in Oishi Kuwajiro's mind.

This memory will likely remain for a long time to come.

Oishi Kuwajiro patted his chest and grinned:

"Wow, that's impressive... It's been a long time since I've encountered such a master. I wonder if I'll ever have another chance to fight Niou..."

After muttering to himself like this, Oishi Kuwajiro shrugged, perked up, and with a faint smile on his face, strode forward, his figure gradually disappearing into the embrace of the night.

……

……

The first year of Wanyan (1860), December 25th——

Edo, Tsukimiya Shrine, inside a certain house—

Qingdeng bent his knees, crouched low, and moved forward slowly along the wall in a near-squatting position, frequently turning his head and eyes to the left and right to scan his surroundings.

At this moment, Qing Deng was dressed in a strange outfit.

Her head was covered with a face mask and headscarf, with only her eyes showing; the clothes on her upper and lower body were not the usual kimono, but rather close-fitting and neat outfits that did not hinder her movements at all.

From head to toe, all the fabrics are the same color, a dark shade that blends in with the pitch-black environment at night.

Thump thump thump thump...!

A chilling glint flashed in Qing Deng's eyes. With a force that seemed to snap his own neck, he abruptly turned his head to the right—though the sound was faint, his ears clearly heard it: someone was approaching! On the ceiling!

Snapped!

Qingdeng's gaze had just shifted to his right, and before he could even focus his eyes, he heard a muffled "thud"—a panel from the ceiling had fallen down five steps to his right.