Yashiro the Blind

"The problem is that I can't find the time. It's the same this time. I'm about to go into battle, and I don't feel at ease if I don't come to see you. Don't worry, don't worry, this time the enemy is nothing to worry about. It's neither the Takeda nor the Hojo, but that fool from Owari. Maybe he'll send an envoy to surrender before Lord Jibu's army even arrives in Mikawa."

Perhaps sensing his daughter's worry, he smiled and said, his tone full of pride.

But the worry on Jiro's brow did not ease much after these words: "Even so, on the battlefield, swords and spears have no eyes..."

"Don't worry." Naomori was the kind of martial artist who was bad with words, and for a moment he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he could only keep repeating this sentence. Then he tilted his head back and drank the whole bowl of tea in one gulp, smacked his lips, and said, "Delicious, another bowl!"

"You can drink as many bowls as you want."

The daughter smiled slightly and began to concentrate on preparing tea again, while Naomori closed his eyes, seemingly immersed in the refreshing aroma of the tea. Neither of them mentioned the war again. After a while, they gulped down two more bowls of hot tea before Naomori, supporting himself on his knees, shakily stood up and clapped his hands.

"That's settled then... It's time to go back."

"Wait a minute."

Just as he was about to leave, he was called back. Naomori turned around: "What?"

Then Jiro took out a cloth bag and handed it to him. He took it with a puzzled look on his face: "What is this... a sachet?" He sniffed it but couldn't smell any fragrance.

“Um…” Jiro’s expression was a little strange. After hesitating for a moment, he said, “In short, just remember to carry this bag with you at all times. If any emergency occurs, or if you suddenly encounter a storm, open it and see what’s inside.”

"Oh, oh... Is this what Buddhism calls 'interpreting koans'?" Naomori scratched the back of his head, his tone full of doubt. However, since his daughter had said so, he didn't ask any further questions and casually put the cloth bag into his pocket.

"Then I'll go back. I still need to prepare provisions and weapons, a lot of things to do... I won't be coming back after that. When I come back, I'll make you two new clothes after I've taken the heads of a few enemy generals in this war and received my reward from the lord."

Jiro shook his head. "I don't need any new clothes. I just want my father to be safe and sound."

"Haha, that's delightful to hear!" Naomori laughed and waved his hand. Without lingering, he left the temple under his daughter's watchful gaze, mounted his horse, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Even though he could no longer see his father's back, Jiro still stood in front of the mountain gate, his brows slightly furrowed, letting his large monk's robe flutter in the evening breeze.

Although reason told her that Naomori's words were not wrong, after all, Owari and Suruga were long-time rivals who knew each other well. Oda Nobuhide, once known as the "Tiger of Owari," was indeed a fierce general, but he had been dead for a long time. The current ruler, Oda Nobunaga, was notorious. Almost everyone spoke of him with contempt and disdain, thinking that Nobunaga was a willful and rude fool who would definitely not be able to protect the legacy left by his father.

Moreover, Imagawa has a force of 25,000 men, while Owari has only 4,000 at most, a six-fold difference in troop strength. This makes the outcome of the war seem like a foregone conclusion. However, for some reason, Jiro-hoshi has an inexplicable doubt that has caused her to be worried and unable to get a good night's sleep.

But no matter what you think, time keeps moving forward.

That evening, Naomori, having finished his bath, was about to change into new clothes when he suddenly noticed the cloth bag he had received during the day.

What exactly is inside?

He was never a patient person, and although Jiro had said he would open it at a certain time, once his curiosity got the better of him, he didn't care about that anymore and opened the bag directly, only to find that there was only a folded piece of paper inside. Upon opening it, it seemed to be a drawing, but the drawing was not very good, the lines were crooked, and it could barely be made out as a map, but it was unclear where exactly it was.

Below that was another line of text, written in equally illegible handwriting. It was so messy that Naomori couldn't decipher what it said even after looking at it for a while.

"This is... a prank?" Naomori was completely bewildered. He examined it from all angles for a while, but still couldn't figure it out. In the end, he assumed it was a joke Jiro was playing on him. Although his daughter usually seemed quite calm and reliable, he never expected her to have such a hobby...

Thinking this way, he felt much better. He casually placed the note aside, blew out the light, and lay down to sleep.

But when Naomori woke up the next day, he had completely forgotten about it. By the time he remembered, he had already left Iidani Castle and set off to join Imagawa's army.

Now that things have come to this, it's impossible to go back and look for a mere piece of paper. Fortunately, although the joking note is gone, the cloth bag that Jiro himself gave him is still with him. Every time he sees it, he can recall his daughter's appearance.

After we return victorious from the battle, let my wife and maids make this bag into a sachet so I can carry it with me.

With this leisurely mindset, a few days later, Ii Naomori donned his family's heirloom armor, a large sword at his waist, and led his elite Ii clan troops to join Imagawa Yoshimoto's main force, embarking on their journey to conquer Owari.

On May 15th, the vanguard army rested for the night at Ikerifuju-juku, and around the 17th, they set off towards Narumi, setting fire to various villages within Oda territory along the way. Thick smoke billowed from the villages and was blown around by the wind, but perhaps having received advance notice of the Oda clan's retreat, the villages were now deserted, and the houses were empty, with no valuables found.

"It seems everyone has run away with their tails between their legs."

"Qingzhou has probably become a ghost town by now."

With no obstacles along the way, the Imagawa clan soldiers, who had expected to encounter an ambush, gradually became complacent. Not only the ordinary soldiers, but even the generals began to become arrogant and self-satisfied, mocking the enemy who fled without a fight while fantasizing about the scene after capturing Kiyosu, Oda Nobunaga's castle.

On the 16th, General Yoshimoto led his main force into Okazaki, while the original owners of the castle, the Mikawa samurai led by Matsudaira Motoyasu, had almost all gone to the front lines and were doing their best to attack the enemy's stronghold, Marune Castle, in order to avoid being attacked by Oda's forces when Yoshimoto passed through.

In an instant, from Marune to Zenshoji, and then to Nakajima and Washizu, the Oda clan's front-line strongholds were all in dire need of help. Fast horses galloped between the front lines and Kiyosu Castle, and every time the sound of hooves rushed through the streets, the people of Kiyosu Castle couldn't help but tremble with fear.

"What exactly does Lord Nobunaga plan to do..."

"Should we defend the city, or go out and fight the enemy to the death?"

Farmers and townspeople alike were discussing the matter with unease, yet no matter how worried they were, Kiyosu Castle remained eerily quiet, as if all was calm. But everyone knew that beneath this surface tranquility, undercurrents were surging, ready to erupt at any moment.

……

Late at night.

There have been countless meetings held within the castle, with prominent Oda clan generals flocking from their own castles to gather here, debating strategies for dealing with the enemy from day to night.

One faction, led by Shibata Gonroku, advocated going out of the castle to fight, while Kato Tosho and Mori Sanzaemon Yoshinari believed that they should defend the castle, delay the time, and then request reinforcements from Mino, Kai and other forces. As the situation on the front lines became increasingly unfavorable, voices gradually emerged suggesting that it would be better to surrender to Imagawa temporarily and preserve their lives.

At first, everyone was relatively calm and restrained, but as the situation became more and more critical, the argument gradually turned into mutual accusations and insults. In particular, the hot-tempered Shibata Gonroku pointed at the surrender faction and cursed, "You traitor to Imagawa, get out!"

"I'm only thinking about the future of the Oda clan! Look at the sky outside. When this moon sets and dawn breaks, Marune and Washizu will fall to the enemy, and then Imagawa's 40,000-strong army will march straight towards Kiyosu. Rather than waiting until the enemy is at our gates and we suffer a crushing defeat before we talk about peace, it's better to make plans now—"

"What nonsense!"

A hot-blooded young samurai, unable to bear it any longer, rushed over and punched. Someone tried to stop him, but they too were drawn into a new round of chaos. The sounds of clashing and crashing echoed from outside all the way to Nobunaga's bedroom.

"...A-Nong, what's that noise outside?"

Oda Nobunaga, wearing a loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt that exposed half of his body, was lying on the tatami mat, propping his head up with his elbow, looking sleepy as if he had just been woken up. Hearing the noise outside, he turned his head slightly and asked the beautiful woman beside him.

But before the other person could speak, he clicked his tongue and said, "Never mind, no need to answer. Honestly... I was hoping to get a good night's sleep..."

His tone was full of disgust.

The woman knelt beside her, smiling but saying nothing.

She was Nobunaga's wife, the daughter of Saito Dosan, the former lord of Mino Province. Her name was Kicho, and because she came from Mino Province, she was also called Nohime. As for Nobunaga, he always referred to her as "Ono".

This time was no exception: "A-Nong, listen."

"kindness?"

"The sound of weeping, the sound of weeping. Didn't you hear it? Is that from inside the city, or is it coming from outside?"

"Probably all of them."

"Sigh..." Nobunaga suddenly sighed. Only a single, nearly burnt-out candle flickered in the room, its light illuminating his bewildered expression. He suddenly asked, "Ano, the enemy is about to attack, the castle is about to fall. Aren't you afraid?"

"afraid."

"If you're afraid, why don't you cry? Doesn't the viper's daughter have tears?"

“The viper’s daughter is also human, and humans have tears. But as the wife of a daimyo, I only cry when my husband dies in battle.” Guidie smiled slightly. “If Your Highness wants to see me shed tears, please put on your armor, pick up your sword, and die a glorious death in battle. At that time, I will definitely have a good cry at your grave.”

Her words were extremely rude in both content and tone, but Nobunaga was not angry at all. Instead, he laughed heartily: "Hahahaha—" With a long laugh, he immediately jumped up, sat cross-legged on the ground, and stared at his wife with shining eyes. "Good, good, since you're not crying, then laugh! Anong, what time is it now?"

"It's almost past 1-3 AM."

"Perfect timing." He clapped his hands and said, "Go and tell anyone to bring Nobunaga's armor, and also the horse, and some food! Anong, I'm hungry, so quickly prepare some food while we're at it. It doesn't need to be too fancy, just some leftover rice soaked in hot water will do!"

"Yes."

Guichao acknowledged with a "Yes," got up, and went out. A short while later, she returned with a bowl of hot water porridge, which she brought over herself. Nobunaga picked up his chopsticks and slurped it down, praising it repeatedly: "Delicious, so delicious! Another bowl, please!"

"Yes."

After eating three bowls of soup and rice, Guicho took the opportunity to bring over a few small plates, one containing seaweed and the other containing dried chestnuts. Nobunaga devoured them all, even licking off the rice grains stuck to the tips of his chopsticks, before putting down his chopsticks and glancing at the dark sky.

"Today is the 19th, right?"

"Yes."

"Haha, in the whole world, Nobunaga must be the first person to pick up his chopsticks on May 19th. How delightful! — Hey, where's my armor? Isn't it ready yet?"

He called out to the door, which was not closed tightly at the moment. Through the crack, he could see servants running around in a hurry, clearly not having reacted for a while. Nobunaga sat there cross-legged for a while, tapping his knees with his fingers, faster and faster. Suddenly, he clicked his tongue and stood up abruptly.

"A bunch of slowpokes, Anong!"

"Yes."

"Bring me the drum! Bring Nobunaga's little drum!"

He took the small drum he often used from Guidie, hung it on his shoulder, and tapped it a few times with the back of his hand and the palm of his hand. Listening to the sound, he nodded in satisfaction and then tossed the drum to his wife.

"Nobunaga is going to dance, Anong, please play a tune for me."

"Ok."

Gui Die obediently took the small drum, raised her hand and struck it, and a loud drum sound immediately spread from her snow-white palm. Perhaps it was the player's state of mind, but the drum sounded without any dullness or stagnation, continuous and clear, as if to awaken those who were still asleep.

She didn't ask which piece of music to play; the couple had a tacit understanding. As soon as the drumbeat sounded, Nobunaga, his clothes half-draped, opened his fan. With a "whoosh," the tall man moved with the fluidity of flowing water, and began to sing in sync with the rhythm of the small drum:

"Life is about fifty years—"

In the early hours of May 19th, the song carried far and wide through Qingzhou City…

……

Chapter 102 Fifty Years in the Human World

"Fifty years in the human world, one day in the life of a celestial being—"

The crisp drumbeats resounded through the night, and the soaring song seemed to express all the troubles in one's heart until now.

"...How short is the day of Hua Letian, like a dream or an illusion. Since there is life, how can there be no death?"

Kicho knelt beside him, beating the drum and occasionally responding with a shout. Nobunaga held a folding fan in his hand, his gaze sweeping around before finally settling on the bright moon in the sky, a smile naturally appearing on his lips.

“How can I not die? This is what Bodhi has ordained. But my heart is unwilling. I must hurry to the capital to see Atsumori…”

This might be the last time I see the moon.

The couple thought to themselves simultaneously. Although their eyes didn't meet, they understood each other better than anyone else.

When the singing stopped, Nobunaga casually tossed aside his folding fan, and the servants guarding the door hurriedly brought in his armor and sword. He quickly put them on and was about to step out when he suddenly turned back and gave his wife one last, deep look.

“A-Nong”.

"exist."

"This departure may be our last. If news of Nobunaga's death in battle arrives, immediately set fire to the castle and burn it all down."

"Yes."

Even as he was giving his last words, Nobunaga showed no trace of sadness. Kicho's expression was equally calm; she put down her small drum, placed her hands on the ground, and bowed her head deeply. But Nobunaga's gaze was no longer on her; he strode out while fastening the straps of his armor.

Woo!

The conch shell, signaling the start of the campaign, suddenly rang out. The once quiet Kiyosu Castle erupted into chaos. Lights were lit in house after house, and the sounds of people asking questions and conversing filled the air, along with the neighing of warhorses leaving their stalls, the clash of armor and swords, and the hurried footsteps of travelers…

The candlelight that gradually lit up the streets illuminated the wide road, and a few tiny stars twinkled in the clouds. Nobunaga did not stop to wait for the hastily arriving samurai and servants, but instead mounted his horse alone and rode out of the city gate like a gust of wind, heading towards the night before dawn.

"My lord, wait for me!"

"My lord, please wait a moment!"

Several quick-witted attendants were the first to react, spurring their horses to give chase. Amidst the light, swift hooves of galloping horses, Nobunaga crossed a crossroads, when someone called out, "My lord!"

"Is that voice Quan Liu?"

"Exactly!"

After a brief question and answer session, Shibata Kenroku led eighty cavalrymen to follow behind, followed by Mori Yoshinari's one hundred and twenty riders, including a strange young man who looked like a monkey.

Because of his unusual appearance, even when he was mixed in with the crowd, Nobunaga could still spot him at a glance.

"The monkeys are here too!"

"Yes!"

As if he hadn't expected his lord to speak to him at such a time, the young man's eyes widened suddenly, and he responded in his distinctive loud voice, his face flushed with excitement.

This man was none other than Hiyoshi, who had left Tōtōmi back then. However, he had long since changed his name to Kinoshita Tōkichirō and was now serving Oda Nobunaga. Due to his outstanding abilities, he was highly regarded and was already the captain of thirty foot soldiers under his command.

"it is good!"

Nobunaga laughed loudly, and without pausing for a moment, spurred his horse and galloped eastward along the Atsuta street. Behind him, more than two hundred people surged forward in a chaotic frenzy, without any formation or order, almost like a race, shouting and chasing after their lord's figure.

Normally, in this day and age, whenever a general of a country or city is about to lead his army into battle, the shops and households in the town would usually close a few days in advance, clean the eaves, and perform some proper fasting and prayers, and would all come out to see the army off when it passed by.

Meanwhile, the soldiers, guarding their own army's flags and insignia, formed ranks, and marched to the front lines with high spirits, believing that this was the way to build a strong army for a nation—but Nobunaga did not care about such superficial formalities.

He didn't even bother to prepare his troops; he simply blew his conch shell, and the man and his horse galloped out of the city, seemingly reckless and impulsive to the extreme. Yet, even so, not a single person fell behind; instead, the number of people following him only increased. Twenty riders, thirty riders, fifty riders… more and more people kept catching up from behind.

Because of the rush, many of them didn't even have time to comb their hair properly, leaving it haphazardly tied up. But even the most meticulous samurai, who usually paid the most attention to their appearance, had no time to care about their looks at this moment, their hearts burning with passion.

The shouts and the roar of cars shattered the pre-dawn tranquility. People in the houses along the way would occasionally open doors and windows, gazing sleepily outside: "What's going on?"

"What happened?"

"Ah, a war is about to break out!" someone exclaimed. Although they realized this in retrospect, at this moment, almost no one realized that the figure on horseback who flashed past at the front was their lord, Oda Nobunaga.

The sky is bright.