Yashiro the Blind

Wait, there's a place I need to get Xiaoqin out of the way and go by myself...

Could it be that this old man went to visit a brothel?

It shouldn't be that bad.

She shook her head, banishing the absurd idea, and then her expression turned serious.

As I said before, no matter what the reason is, Wan Guizhai has been taking Xiaoqin everywhere he goes these past few days, and even seems to be considering training her as a disciple. Given that, there is absolutely no way he would abandon her for no reason.

If it were an ordinary person, it wouldn't be a problem, but Xiaoqin is in this state, so letting her ride the ox back alone is risky. Even if the ox knows the way home, what if something unexpected happens along the way? Wan Guizhai is not a reckless person who wouldn't consider such a thing. The reason he did this is very likely because he had some compelling reason to do so.

And it's mostly not a good thing.

"Xiaoqin, tell me more about what happened yesterday. Before the old man asked you to come back, what happened or who did you meet?" she asked.

Xiaoqin blinked, bit her nails, and thought seriously: "Before I came back... nothing happened before I came back, but I met a strange person."

"weirdo?"

"Yes, a very strange woman!" She nodded vigorously. "She was wearing very nice clothes, her face was painted white, she was very pretty, and she smelled nice... Ah, Grandpa and I met her yesterday!" Before she finished speaking, Xiaoqin suddenly clapped her hands and pointed to the window with surprise and joy.

At the same time, a figure floated in through the window, followed by a wonderful fragrance. The melodious voice, heard just yesterday, rang out again: "Little Yashiro, we meet again—"

While the person was still in mid-air, before they could land, the girl suddenly swung her staff, sending the other person flying out of the window again.

"...I'm in...Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

The second half of the sentence suddenly turned into a mournful cry, and it hurtled all the way to the ground.

"The one you saw yesterday was her?"

Yashiro, seemingly oblivious to everything, pressed her temples in slight distress and asked...

Xiaoqin blinked twice, looked out the window, then at Yashiro. She figured her little brain couldn't quite explain what had just happened, so she pretended nothing had occurred and gave a happy smile: "That's right, it's her!"

……

Chapter Fifty-Six: Yamamoto the Cripple

"That's too much, too much... *sobs*... We're guests, after all. This is just too much..."

Spring is in full bloom, and fallen petals are everywhere.

The crowd that came to check on the commotion after hearing the cries of pain came and went, leaving only a few familiar faces in the room: Yashiro, Koto, Ryuko who had just arrived after hearing the noise and was now sitting next to them eating a large meal while holding a wooden basin, and Chiyome Mochizuki, who was surrounded by them, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and sobbing half-truthfully.

"Only those who enter through the door are considered guests; those who climb through the window are not."

The girl wasn't fooled by the clumsy acting; in fact, in all her decades of life, this was the first time she'd ever seen someone so shameless.

The two sides had just fought a real battle yesterday. Although there were no casualties, the strange ensemble really gave Yashiro a hard time. If it weren't for her secret technique of sealing acupoints with silver needles, she might have capsized because of it, causing her future life to rush headlong down a path that couldn't pass censorship...

The thought alone sends chills down my spine.

Putting aside any resentment, Yashiro decided he didn't want to run into Chiyome again for the time being—otherwise, he might have rolled up his sleeves and given her a good beating. He assumed she felt the same way, but to his surprise, just one day later, Chiyome came running over, laughing and joking.

He greeted her in a familiar tone, like an old friend, which made her scalp tingle. Without saying a word, she immediately swung the stick at him... Anyway, it's just a greeting, so there shouldn't be any problem with etiquette, right?

"Sobbing, sobbing... We made a special trip here just to try and make amends by helping you out, to show that since you, Xiao Ba Xun, have this attitude, we don't need to lower ourselves any further and make a fool of ourselves. Sobbing, sobbing..."

Chiyo feigned concern by wiping her eyes, repeatedly giving Kotomi meaningful glances.

"...?"

Xiaoqin tilted her head, biting her thumbnail with a clattering sound, her eyes clear and bright.

She paused for a moment, then glanced at the dragon prince beside her.

"Snort, snore, snore—"

Just then, she saw a beautiful woman holding a wooden basin, eating with the force of a Takeda cavalry charge all by herself, which amazed Chiyo. Then, her gaze fell on the woman's figure, which showed no signs of obesity, and a hint of jealousy appeared in her eyes.

The gods and Buddhas are unjust!

She thought fiercely, while regretfully abandoning her plan to flirt. After all, the two people in the room were both oddballs, and the one left was a true case of "giving a flirtatious look to a blind man."

Chiyome gritted her teeth inwardly, wondering whether she should continue pretending, when the girl in front of her finally reacted: "Make amends for your sins?"

"That's right, but I'm angry. Unless you apologize, I won't continue!"

Just by looking at those words, Chiyome seemed confident and assertive, but in reality, she was carefully observing Yashiro's expression. She was prepared to immediately prostrate herself and apologize if she caught even the slightest hint of annoyance or impatience, or if she noticed him reaching for his cane.

As the saying goes, "The inchworm bends to stretch; the dragon and snake hibernate to survive." Only by enduring temporary humiliation can one be more arrogant and defiant in the future. Chiyo understood this principle well, which is why she has been living a carefree life and is still lively and energetic at this age.

Surprisingly, she seems to finally be free from "feeling stifled" and "being hibernating" this time.

"I'm sorry," Yashiro said expressionlessly, "Is this alright?"

"Okay, okay."

Chiyo, knowing when to stop, quickly nodded.

"Let's get back to the main topic... You said you wanted to help us, but how exactly would you help?" the girl asked.

"Of course, it's about what you were just talking about."

"Master Wan Guizhai?"

"That's right."

Feeling quite pleased with herself for regaining control of the conversation, Chiyome immediately reverted to her usual somewhat flippant tone. At the same time, she raised her head, causing the bell on her wrist to jingle. If it weren't for the inappropriate setting, she might have even put her hands on her hips to express her inner feelings.

But I might get beaten up if I put my hands on my hips now, so I'll pass...

"Where should I begin? Hmm... Do you know why we wanted to bring people to capture... cough cough, was it to invite you home as a guest?" Although Chiyo managed to change a word back in time, it was clear that this attempt to salvage the situation had no effect.

Yashiro gave a forced smile and asked, "I was just about to ask why I was suddenly surrounded and beaten up yesterday when I was walking down the street for no reason?"

"This...this...hehe, let's not dwell on the past. Let bygones be bygones! Now we should talk about something more practical and important, like the real culprit—yes, the guilty party has a culprit, and we were just following orders. The person who really wants to capture you is the current leader of the Tōpō-shū, and his purpose...is to use you to lure out someone else. Strangely enough, you'd never guess who that person is, Hachiko—"

Chiyo shook her head, intentionally keeping the girl in suspense to entice her to ask more questions, but if nothing unexpected happened, what she was about to say was something Yashiro had already heard so many times these past few days that she was practically sick of it... With this level of intelligence gathering, it seems this older sister really isn't suited to be a ninja.

She had originally intended to deliver a sarcastic remark, but upon hearing the slightly smug tone in the other person's voice, she suddenly thought it might be amusing to tease them, so she immediately played along, asking, "Who is it?"

"Hehehe, it's your father—Tenfu Goro!"

"Varied……"

“We know what you’re trying to say. Your real father has indeed passed away and gone to paradise. The person the leader is trying to lure out is just another imposter. As for the identity of this imposter, you would never guess!”

"It's...who is it?"

"It is the previous leader of the Tōbō-shū, Kanna, also known as Amanuma Dokraku, a notorious thief who once roamed the Eastern Country without restraint. How about that, surprised?"

"It turned out to be him!"

Yashiro tried her best to look shocked, but it was hard to tell if she was convincing. Anyway, Ryuko, who was busy eating next to her, couldn't hold it in and spat out a few grains of rice. Kotori pointed at it with her finger and said seriously, "Ryuko, that's dirty!"

Chiyo herself was quite satisfied. It was unclear whether she hadn't noticed the girl's acting skills at all, or whether she was simply happy as long as someone was supporting her. She had a beaming smile on her face, and it seemed as if phantom flowers were blooming around her.

"But, but, that's not all!"

Completely oblivious to the fact that she was betraying her superior, Chiyo clapped her hands together and began speaking with even greater enthusiasm, "Besides that Kanna who impersonated your father, it seems the boss had another purpose in coming to Suruga. Yesterday, after we escaped... we were immediately approached by the boss, who asked me to meet someone—that doctor named Mankisai—to relay a message. The old doctor's expression changed after hearing it, but he didn't say anything. However, he then sent this girl named Kotomi back and went off on his own."

This was the first time Yashiro had heard this, and he was slightly taken aback. What could the leader of the Toha Clan, the ninja chief of the Takeda Clan, possibly want to see Mankisai for?

She had long realized that Wan Guizhai's identity was not simple, or rather, any normal person could see the strangeness of this old man. He kicked people and treated patients without charging a penny, yet he was never short of money. He had a strange temper and offended others every few days. He was equally rude to high-ranking warriors and powerful local noble families, and would often scold them. If such a person did not have a background, he would probably not live more than a few days before being dumped in the wilderness.

Since Wan Guizhai didn't mention it, she didn't ask. Although she was somewhat curious, who in this world doesn't have one or two secrets? If every secret had to be thoroughly investigated, it would never end. That being said, if the old man were to encounter any danger because of this, that would be another matter entirely.

Do you know where the old man is now?

"Of course, but let's get this straight: since you're asking for help, you have to show the appropriate attitude, otherwise..."

"I beg you."

Before she could finish speaking, Yashiro interrupted, her tone flat and devoid of any emotion.

Longzi spat out another breath from the side.

"Dirty!" Xiaoqin pointed.

"Hehe, very well, since you're so sincere, let's not beat around the bush—" After a moment of awkwardness, Chiyo cleared her throat, stopped rambling, pushed herself up, stood up, and without saying a word, flipped over and jumped out of the window.

"..."

"Snoring—"

A moment later, half a head peeked out of the window: "Hurry up and come over here!"

"Oh."

Yashiro slowly stood up, first mentioning to Ryuko, "I'll leave Koto in your care," and after receiving a reply, opened the door and leisurely walked out of the room. Chiyome peered out from under the window, saying, "This way is much better!"

"I'm a respectable person, I don't climb through windows," the girl replied after a pause.

……

The sun rises and sets, day after day, year after year. The rise and fall of generations, compared to the heavens and the earth, are perhaps no different from those of ants.

Once a person has witnessed too much life and death, thoughts that are hard to define as either optimistic or pessimistic will always arise in their mind, especially as dusk approaches—the afterglow is fading, the sky is filled with the glow of the setting sun, and the old man opens his eyes again from his long meditation. Although he is old, his eyes do not have the turbidity and dullness that come with age; they still shine brightly, like needles and swords.

A needle that can save lives, a sword that can kill.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his already upright back straightened even more, stood up, scooped a bowl of cold water from the broken vat by the wall, drank it all in one gulp, then picked up the comb next to him and began to carefully comb his gray hair.

One strand at a time, meticulously combing his full head of silver hair into a neat bun, the old man changed into a plain white, loose-fitting outfit. He then took another bowl, filled it with cool water, placed it on the floor, and sat down cross-legged, resting his hands on his lap, remaining motionless.

Only his shadow fell on the opposite wall and window, and as the sun gradually slanted westward, it resembled a huge statue that was constantly collapsing, sinking into darkness.

Footsteps could be heard outside.

Unlike ordinary people, his straw sandals first made a thud, followed by a rustling sound as if he were dragging something, one light and one heavy – the gait of a cripple. As the old man looked up, the half-closed door of the thatched hut opened, and a figure of modest stature came into view.

He was indeed a cripple. Not only that, but his left eye was also blind, covered by a black eye patch. He was disheveled, filthy, and dressed in tattered clothes. At first glance, he looked like a beggar or vagrant from somewhere. The only distinguishing feature was the pair of swords, one long and one short, hanging from his waist.

"It's been a long time, Yamamoto." Mankisai gestured to the table in front of him. "Please sit down. Although we're only serving cold water, please don't mind."

With a slow, deliberate gait, the one-eyed cripple walked straight into the house without uttering a sound. He sat down casually, picked up the wooden bowl, and drank it all clean. Then, as if drinking wine, he turned the bowl upside down to show the old man.

"How does it taste?" the old man asked.

“Bland and tasteless,” the lame man replied, his voice hoarse, like a crow circling a battlefield.

“It’s true that it’s not as good as wine.” Wan Guizhai chuckled. “But it’s precisely because wine is so good that people indulge in it, and indulging in it leads to mistakes. It’s better to drink water.”

“That makes sense.” The cripple nodded, then added, “But I’ve heard that wine is the best of all medicines, so it must have its benefits.”

“Indeed.” Wan Guizhai nodded.

"I wonder if this herb, the best of all medicines, can cure my illness?"

"What disease?"

“This one’s lame,” he pointed.

Wan Guizhai shook his head upon hearing this: "No. Your leg was broken when you fell off a cliff when you were young, and it wasn't set in time, so you've had a limp ever since. Life is like flowing water, once gone, it never returns. What's past can't be made up for."

The lame man then pointed to his eyepatch: "And what about this blind eye?"

"No," Wan Guizhai replied again.

"Why?"

"This eye of yours was taken from you by God when you were young because of an illness. How can it be taken back?"

"If this won't work, and that won't work, then what about here? Can it be cured?" The lame man asked for the third time, pointing to his chest.

This time, Wan Guizhai nodded and said, "Okay."

"Why?"

"Because this is a mental illness, and mental illnesses can be cured."

"What can cure it? Alcohol?"

"Alcohol can alleviate heartache to some extent, but it only treats the symptoms. To cure the root cause, you must address the heartache itself. If you love someone but cannot have them, sever the ties of love with your sword. If you hate someone but cannot get what you want, draw your sword and kill your enemy. In this way, your heartache will naturally be cured."

"Good!" the cripple laughed loudly, "But I don't know who the person I love is, or where the person I hate is?"

"The one you love is already in the land of the dead; while the one you hate is within reach, just a sword's throw away," Wan Guizhai said in a deep voice.

Snapped!

The next second, the cripple suddenly stood up, slammed the empty bowl to the ground, and with a flick of his right hand, drew his sword. The cold glint of the blade reflected the blood-red setting sun outside, and resembled a pool of blood remaining on the blade, a shocking sight.

The old man gazed silently at the knife.

But through the mirror-like blade, one could glimpse a distant past.