Yashiro the Blind

“Since I am Jiro, you must be Yashiro.”

"So that's how it is. Your words have awakened me from my dream. Only now do I realize who I am." The woman clapped her hands and laughed. "Alright, enough joking. Benefactor Ba Xun, it's been a long time. I didn't expect you to return with Wu Liu. What a pleasant surprise."

"Really didn't expect this? I seem to remember this dancer next to me..."

"Cough cough!"

"—This Wu Liu secretly sent a message a couple of days ago. Could it be that Master Fa hasn't received it yet?" Ya Shi tilted his head.

"Alas, those who deceive others are often the ones who are most unaware."

Jiro sighed deliberately, then stepped forward and skillfully tidied the blind girl's hair, removing a tender leaf clipped to her locks. His cheerful expression softened with a touch of gentleness: "Four years have passed, and you've certainly matured… um…"

Before she could finish speaking, looking at the other person's face, which was basically unchanged from her memory, the second half of her sentence suddenly caught in her throat—a monk does not lie, and she simply could not utter such a contrary-to-heart statement.

To cover up his embarrassment, he coughed lightly twice and changed his words, "I meant that you've grown taller... um..."

After roughly estimating the other person's height proportions with his eyes, he suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

"Forehead……"

"Master, if you can't think of anything nice to say, you don't have to praise me," Yashiro finally couldn't help but complain.

As soon as she said that, the other person had an idea and sincerely praised her, "You've become much more straightforward and cheerful than before, that's wonderful!"

"..."

As it turns out, Jiro has always been very good at discovering the strengths in others.

This time is no exception.

……

Chapter Ninety-Four: Let Me Hug You

Fighting and killing were only occasional; ordinary life was the norm. The young martial artist named Wu Er came and went like a whirlwind, leaving behind only a field of wounded.

Although Wu Er clearly held back, even the most seriously injured were not in mortal danger, but were only barely alive. Among them were those with broken hands and bones who needed to rest in bed for many days.

Thanks to them, faint groans can be heard from Longtai Temple recently, and a faint smell of blood permeates the air, adding a touch of worldly atmosphere to this solemn and pure mountain temple.

"I've told you so many times, don't act impulsively... Luckily, we met someone who showed mercy this time. What would you have done if they had tried to kill us?" Jiro muttered to himself as he bandaged their wounds and gave them medicine.

Most people listened dejectedly, but a few were unconvinced. One such person was the high-ranking monk named Haotian, who retorted angrily, "Jiro, what right do you have to criticize me? No matter what, I fought with a proper weapon. My loss was purely due to my inferior skill, and had nothing to do with my attitude. And you? You dared to fight the opponent's jitte with a wooden spear! Luckily, nothing happened; if anything had gone wrong, your brains would have been splattered out..."

“Brother Haotian is right, but I have won,” Master Jiro replied with a smile.

Monk Haotian was even more furious: "I'm not talking about winning or losing right now, it's about attitude, understand? Attitude!"

"But I won."

Therefore, I would say—

"I won."

"Alright, alright, you win, you win, okay!" With sheer force, Haotian ultimately succumbed to Jiro's simple and unadorned counterattack.

While scolding him, the woman worked quickly, carefully changing the ointment on his wound and re-bandaging him before saying, "Senior Brother Haotian, get some rest."

"Humph."

What does "humph" mean?

"Hmph means 'I understand'!"

"Then please answer honestly that you understand. But if you just hum in response, no one will understand."

"Humph……"

"Ok?"

"knew!"

The man, who was in his twenties or thirties, still acted like a child, stubbornly agreeing. Jiro smiled slightly, not taking it to heart, picked up the basin of water stained with blood, and walked out of the meditation room, only to suddenly hear a clear, resonant string sound.

It was the sound of a pipa.

She listened quietly for a while, then splashed the water away before walking toward the direction from which the sound came.

The weather was perfect today, sunny and breezy. Sunlight shone on a large tree in the backyard, making the tender green leaves seem to glow. Yashiro sat in the shade of the tree, holding her musical instrument. She casually swung the plectrum, and the familiar sounds of the pipa strings were transformed into novel melodies she had never heard before.

After a moment, as if sensing that the atmosphere had built up enough, Yashiro cleared her throat and softly sang, "Two tigers, two tigers..."

The singing and piano music suddenly stopped.

"Master...Master, when did you arrive?" She tilted her head, as if she had just noticed the person coming from the corridor. Then, remembering the two lines of lyrics she had just sung, her face flushed slightly, and she began to stammer.

"It didn't take long."

Jiro looked up at the boundless blue sky, like a canvas, smiled, took a few steps closer, and sat down beside the blind girl: "Are you playing the zither?"

"Yes, you have to practice this all the time. If you don't practice for a few days, you'll get rusty."

"I see." She nodded, and then said, "The piece you just played."

"kindness?"

"Although it sounds a bit strange at first, it's quite novel and has a unique flavor... Could it be the songs of those southern barbarians?"

I only listened to a short segment and didn't get a full picture, but the melody style was clearly different from the music that Jiro was used to listening to, so I subconsciously guessed that it was overseas.

“Southern barbarians…” Yashiro thought for a moment after hearing this, “That is indeed a fair assessment.”

She remembered that the melody of the children's song "Two Tigers" probably originated from the French song "The Brothers Jacques," or it was said to have evolved from a Roman hymn. Although it was slightly different from the current Japanese definition of "Nanban" (Southern Barbarians)—at that time, the term Nanban was generally used to specifically refer to the Portuguese, and sometimes also to the Spanish and Italians; as for the relatively common Dutch and British merchants, they were mostly referred to as "red-haired people."

But considering that these countries are all in Western Europe anyway, if you round it up, France and Spain aren't that different.

"As expected." Perhaps his guess had been confirmed, Jiro seemed quite pleased. He sat to the side, gently patting his knees and humming softly. Although a few lines were off-key, it was still clear that it was the melody that Yashiro had just played.

He hummed a few lines and then said, "Is this a nursery rhyme?"

"Correct."

"I guess so... If it's a nursery rhyme, it's probably for that child, right?" Jiro said meaningfully, his tone leisurely, with a hint of schadenfreude. "Nonsense, but, Mr. Hachishiro, does that child still not want to see you?"

"...Sigh." A sigh spoke volumes. Yashiro lost all interest in playing the biwa, placing the instrument aside and sighing again. "Master, could you please put in a good word for me?"

“That won’t do. If I speak up for you, that child will probably take her anger out on me too.” Master Jiro shook his head and then laughed. “To be honest, you did a really bad job. You didn’t ask about it for four whole years and didn’t send a single message back. No wonder that child is angry… Not to mention her, even I’m a little unhappy.”

"Feel sorry."

"Okay, I forgive you, but you'll have to figure out how to handle Chuya yourself... Alright, now that I've had a half-day of leisure, it's time to go back to my studies. If you need anything, just come to my room." With that, she pushed herself up with both hands and stood up.

Before leaving, she once again tidied up Yashiro's appearance, such as combing her hair and smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes, until she was clean and tidy from head to toe. Only then did Jiro nod in satisfaction and go back to his room to read and study.

It would have been fine when I was thirteen or fourteen a few years ago, but now that I'm almost twenty and still being treated like this, if it were someone else, they might feel like they're being treated like a child. This is the age when one is most impetuous, so it's hard not to feel a bit awkward.

But originally, this body contained a soul from another world. Whether it was ten years old or twenty years old, it made no difference. Yashiro naturally wouldn't grumble over such a trivial matter. On the contrary, she felt quite pleased to be treated like this by a beautiful woman.

But her joy didn't last long. The thought of Chuya avoiding her made her feel depressed again.

Of course, this can't be blamed on the young girl. After all, she had traveled all over Japan in recent years, and most of the time she was short of money and couldn't afford to hire someone to run errands for her. Unfortunately, she never encountered any merchants or travelers heading to Tōtōmi. When she had money and free time, she always forgot about this matter. So in the end, she didn't even send a single letter back to Hatsume and Jirō.

The latter, being a mature adult, didn't show it much, but she had jokingly mentioned it as a slight expression of dissatisfaction. After she apologized, the matter was considered closed. As for Chuya, she was clearly not so easy to talk to.

She had been with Mai to Ryutai Temple for almost a week. According to Mai, Hatsume was living in the temple but was hiding and refusing to see her. Considering Hatsume's feelings, Yashiro didn't dare to use any forceful methods. She could only try to find ways to appease Hatsume without meeting her, hoping to calm the girl down and end the "cold war" as soon as possible.

I just tried playing "Two Tigers," hoping to lure people out with this lively tune. But as the saying goes, "the fisherman seeks the fish, and the willing take the bait," I didn't catch the main target, but instead caught Jiro the monk. I was quite amused and exasperated.

"Sigh... what should I do?"

She murmured to herself, leaning back against the tree trunk. The sunlight swayed overhead, warm and gentle, while dust and particles floated in the air. The calls of unknown birds and insects in the distance, and the occasional voices from the temple—all these subtle sounds made everything seem even more tranquil and serene.

Yashiro yawned. She had been thinking day and night but hadn't come up with any reliable ideas. Instead, she hadn't slept well for several nights in a row. Now, basking in the warm sun, she felt relaxed and, without realizing it, drifted off to sleep in the yard.

"..."

A gaze was secretly watching from the shadows of the tree. After a while, seeing that the sleeping figure was motionless and breathing heavily, the person finally came out, carrying a piece of clothing in their hand, and slowly—literally slowly—walked over.

Her legs seemed a little clumsy, and she walked unsteadily with each step. What Jiro could cover in a mere ten or twenty seconds took her several minutes to walk with great difficulty. Finally, she reached the tree and stared at the peaceful sleeping face, biting her lip: "She just fell asleep outside like that, isn't she afraid of catching a cold... idiot."

Muttering to himself, he gently covered the area with the clothes in his hands.

Yashiro's eyelashes trembled slightly, then returned to normal, continuing her long, drawn-out breathing. But this subtle movement did not escape someone's eyes, and the little girl immediately raised her eyebrows: "You, you're awake, right!"

“…Huh, huh…”

"Don't pretend to be asleep!"

She spoke angrily, no longer trying to lower her voice as before. Now, even if she was really sleeping, she would probably be woken up. Besides, Yashiro had already woken up when the other person took the first step. Now that she had been exposed, she naturally couldn't keep up the act. With a hint of sleepiness, she yawned again.

Is it a first bud?

"It's not a budding sprout," the little girl replied irritably.

"If it's not Chuya, then who is it?"

"Nobody."

"Huh, what about this extra piece of clothing I'm wearing..." Yashiro reached out to take it, but the little girl snatched it back first. Turning to leave, she tripped and fell forward...

A gasp had barely reached her lips when a voice cried out, "Watch out!" At the same time, the world spun around her, and when she came to her senses, the little girl found herself lying in a warm embrace.

She slightly raised her gaze, glancing down her chin, and saw that familiar face. Years had passed, and Yashiro's appearance seemed to have changed little compared to her memory. Yet, back then, she had clearly seemed like a mature and beautiful older sister. Now, she was still beautiful, but that mature feeling had inexplicably disappeared.

Instead, he seems more like... a peer of similar age.

This feeling was somewhat unfamiliar to the little girl, yet strangely, she didn't feel disappointed. On the contrary, she even felt a little bit of inexplicable joy, as if a distance that was originally unreachable had suddenly shortened in that one glance.

At this moment, she didn't understand what this feeling was, but the anger that had been building up in her heart because the other party had disappeared seemed to lessen a lot.

"Did you twist your ankle?" Another voice asked from above. She buried her head in the other person's arms, remaining silent and making a last-ditch effort.

Yashiro wasn't annoyed. He simply reached out and gently patted her back, laughing, "Speaking of which, little Hatsume can already walk on her own... That's amazing."

“…Hmm.” The little girl was silent for a long time before finally responding softly, her voice sounding somewhat muffled. “Although it was very hard, with the help of my older sister and brother, I managed to stand up. And slowly, I was able to walk on my own without anyone’s help… I originally wanted to tell you this news as soon as possible, but I didn’t know where you were, or even if you were dead… Thinking about it like that made me very sad and angry.”

Towards the end, there was a hint of grievance and a sob in his voice.

"Um, I'm sorry..."

"Even if you apologize, I won't forgive you. Unless..."

"unless?"

"Unless you, Yashiro-neechan, agree to stay..." These words were almost about to slip out, but she swallowed them back at the last moment. If it were Hatsumi four years ago, she might not have considered so much, but now she is a very mature and sensible young woman.

A sensible young woman knows what to say and what not to say. Saying things that shouldn't be said not only has no effect, but will also make the other person feel awkward, so...

"Unless... Yashiro-neechan, you let me hug you."

She rephrased it.

"A hug?" Yashiro was slightly taken aback. "Is that enough?"

"kindness."

Taking that reply as agreement, Hatsume no longer hesitated. She straightened up from the other's embrace, opened her arms, and gently hugged her. Perhaps because she had slept in the shade for a while, her body felt a little cool to the touch. She wrapped her arms around Yashiro and pulled her into her embrace, resting her chin on her shoulder.

Sure enough, the older sister I used to look up to was gone. Now, here is... a sister named Yashiro who can be easily hugged by her.

"Is that enough? You're not angry anymore?" After a while, Yashiro reached out and hugged her back, whispering in her ear with a smile as she asked.

Chuya shrank back slightly, then immediately pressed herself back against him, nodded, and rubbed her chin against her clothes, making a rustling sound.

"Yes, that's enough."

Although it's still far from enough, for now... this is sufficient.

……

Chapter Ninety-Five: Love Has Closeness and Distance

Compared to adults, children's emotions often appear exceptionally pure and intense.

Even in 16th-century Japan, Hatsume four years ago was undoubtedly a child—for a long time, the world she could reach out and touch was only a small patch around her, and without the help of others, even standing up on her own was a luxury.

Although the people around her usually take good care of her, and often carry her out for walks to avoid her staying at home for too long and getting depressed, Chuya always appears cheerful on the surface, but when she is alone, she inevitably sighs inwardly, feeling that she is a burden to everyone.

As her older brother and sister brought in various so-called famous doctors, all of whom were helpless after their diagnoses, Chuya, seeing the disappointment on the faces of her loved ones, not only had to suppress her own frustration but also had to smile and comfort them. At first, she said, "It's okay, if it doesn't work this time, there's always next time. I'm not in a hurry at all!"

Later, it slowly turned into: "It's okay, even if I can't stand up, it doesn't matter, I still have all of you with me, I'm used to it... Yes, I'm used to it." Children in adversity are always precocious, but they don't realize that their words will only make those who care about them more heartbroken.

As time passed, the girl's smile, which had initially been deliberate, began to appear increasingly natural, as if she had told the same lie so many times that she was almost starting to believe it herself. Just as Chuya was about to completely give up hope and accept reality... a small ray of light finally fell upon her.

An unexpected turning point, an unexpected surprise—with the arrival of Yashiro, everything seemed to be turning in a positive direction. Although the two hadn't spent much time together, Hatsume had already placed this older sister who had healed her legs in her heart and regarded her as family—just like her older sister, brother, older sister, Hikogoro, and Ozora.

Since they were family, they should always be together. The young girl firmly believed this and once thought that Yashiro would stay in Tōtōmi and accompany her, just like her family members had been until now... That's why she was so angry when the other party had been out of contact for years.