Yashiro the Blind

After confirming that the matter was indeed true and not a false report deliberately released by Oda clan ninjas, Matsudaira Motoyasu initially wanted to die a heroic death. However, persuaded by his retainers in Mikawa, he chose to retreat back to Mikawa under cover of night. He then dealt with the pursuit and harassment from Oda's forces and barely managed to save his life.

But the road ahead remains uncertain.

Especially a certain piece of news that has gradually spread over the past few days has made Matsudaira Motoyasu extremely agitated, unsure of how to handle the situation.

"To say that I instructed someone to kill our lord... What a joke!" His face was full of anger, but also a hint of barely perceptible panic. As he spoke, he threw the teacup in his hand—luckily it was a wooden bowl, so it didn't break, but bounced twice on the ground before hitting a tree root with a "bang".

After that soft sound, the courtyard fell silent.

Although several retainers remained by his side, neither the impetuous young Honda Nabenosuke nor the mature and steady Sakai Tadatsugu remained silent. No one offered words of comfort to their young lord, for even these retainers themselves were filled with shock, anger, and helplessness.

One reason, of course, was this unexpected defeat. With the deaths of many generals and ministers, and Yoshimoto himself, the once stable Imagawa clan suddenly became precarious. But apart from the rise and fall of the main family, what was currently causing them great concern was something else.

To be more precise, it's a rumor.

Imagawa Yoshimoto was killed not far from Okazaki Castle. His death was gruesome; he was said to have been cut in half at the waist, his intestines spilling out onto the ground. Ironically, the person who killed him did not take Yoshimoto's head immediately. It was not until Hattori Koheita and Mori Shinsuke of the Oda army arrived that they managed to seize this incredible opportunity.

This is very abnormal.

In an era where wars were generally rewarded with kills, let alone the head of Yoshimoto, the Grand Marshal of the Ministry of War, even the head of an ordinary low-ranking samurai could be exchanged for money or rice by the victorious side to improve their meals. At Yoshimoto's level, it was even possible to be rewarded with a small territory for such merit, and it wasn't a pipe dream to achieve a leap in rank.

For this reason, not only bandits and samurai from various places, but also the simple and honest people, would excitedly form small teams to search for the defeated and fleeing samurai in twos and threes, kill them, rob them of their belongings, and then use their heads to exchange for bounties.

This practice, known as "Fallen Warrior Hunting," was extremely popular and terrified countless defeated generals. In another timeline, Akechi Mitsuhide, who betrayed Oda Nobunaga, ultimately died at the hands of these farmers who were keen on finishing off defeated generals.

This gives a glimpse into the simplicity and honesty of the ancient people.

No one hates money, and no one hates fragrant rice. However, the person who cut Yoshimoto in half seemed uninterested in it, leaving Yoshimoto's head intact on his neck, handing over this enormous benefit.

To the average person, there seems to be only one possibility: the murderer has a special identity, making it difficult to claim the reward for taking his head.

Or perhaps, the other party's original purpose was to kill Yoshimoto to vent their anger... and to seek revenge.

Considering the location of Yoshimoto's death, the truth seems to be on the verge of being revealed:

As is well known, Imagawa Yoshimoto has wanted to completely annex Mikawa for quite some time now. To this end, he has repeatedly promised Motoyasu to return to his homeland of Mikawa, but every time Motoyasu achieves military merit, he goes back on his word and pretends that he never said it.

This capricious behavior had long infuriated the former retainers of Mikawa, who had even considered taking advantage of the trip to Kyoto to do something, only to be stopped by Motoyasu. Now that Yoshimoto had been inexplicably killed, and outside Okazaki Castle no less, it was natural for people to assume that the Mikawa people were responsible.

Rumor has it that someone in Suruga is confidently saying, "This must have been instigated by that brat Motoyasu! People from Mikawa are indeed not to be trusted!"

"When that kid escapes back, we'll make him pay the price!"

Even though Yuan Kang was much more mature than his peers because of his tragic past, he was still just an eighteen-year-old young man. The sudden defeat had already made him panicked, and when he heard this vicious rumor, he was even more shocked and angry, not knowing how to deal with it.

But when you look up, you can still see the clear, cloudless sky.

"My lord... the situation is urgent, and a decision must be made as soon as possible." After a long silence, Sakai Tadatsugu finally said in a deep voice, "Time waits for no one. Should we retreat to Suruga and make further plans, or... whatever you choose, we will stand by your side."

He didn't voice the other option, but everyone present knew it perfectly well.

Yuan Kang's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but after a long while, all his words turned into a soft sigh: "I despise this defiled land and yearn for the pure land..."

These eight characters were the words of Matsudaira Chikatada, the ancestor of the Matsudaira family and the man who built the Daishu-ji Temple, and were often on his lips. Motoyasu had taken them as his motto since childhood, but now, looking around, he could not see any pure land. Although he had successfully retreated from Owari to Mikawa, the crisis was not over. Oda's pursuers were watching him closely from the outside, and his colleagues from Imagawa were equally untrustworthy. He and the people of Okazaki, including himself, could not return to their homeland…

"I yearn for the Pure Land, but where exactly is it...? I can't reach it, I can't reach it at all!"

He sat on a rock under a tree, tears welling in his eyes. Sakai Tadatsugu and the other retainers of the Mikawa family looked at him with concern, about to speak to him, but then they saw the young man close his eyes and quickly force himself to calm down.

"The situation..." Just as they were about to ask for details before making a decision, a series of hurried footsteps came from the main gate of the temple. Everyone in the courtyard gripped their weapons and turned around warily. The next moment, they discovered that it was one of the scouts who had been sent out to investigate earlier.

"My lord, my lord! Something has happened! It seems that Tanaka Jiroemon of Okazaki Castle is about to leave the castle to fight!"

"what?"

Motoyasu's expression changed drastically upon hearing this. He knew Tanaka Uemon's character well; he was by no means a brave warrior. Moreover, if he truly wanted to avenge his lord Yoshimoto, he wouldn't have waited four days to take action. Now, thinking about it, the target of his attack was self-evident—

"Damn it, all troops prepare for battle!"

He abruptly stood up, suppressing his anger and unease, and shouted an order. The Mikawa retainers roared their approval and dispersed to prepare for battle. The youngest, Honda Nabenosuke, brandished a spear taller than himself and shouted menacingly, "My lord, do not worry! Even if a thousand or ten thousand enemies come, none of them will be a match for me! Watch me, Nabenosuke, slaughter them all!"

"Haha...really reliable." Motoyasu gave a forced smile. The compliment made Nabe no Suke even more excited. There was no fear in his eyes, only a surging fighting spirit.

But the people of Sanhe waited and waited, from daylight to nightfall, yet the expected enemy army never appeared. Just as Yuan Kang was beginning to feel puzzled, another scout he had sent out rushed back, bringing with him even more unexpected news:

"You mean... Shiro and the others didn't come to attack us, but... fled back to Suruga?"

"Exactly! Okazaki is now a ghost town!"

The words spoken by the scout left the Mikawa lord and his men, who had been prepared for a desperate battle, momentarily bewildered. After exchanging bewildered glances, the worry on Yuan Kang's brow gradually faded, and he smiled gently, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

The laughter quickly grew louder and louder, with Nabe no Suke, Sakai Tadatsugu, and others joining in the laughter. The laughter seemed to shake the sky, causing the dark clouds that had been obscuring the moon to disperse, revealing a bright moon whose clear light shone down on the earth.

"My lord, since that's the case, then we..."

Faced with Sakai Tadatsugu's pointed question, Matsudaira Motoyasu finally stopped laughing, but his voice was still cheerful. Compared to his helplessness and indignation just now, at this moment, he seemed to have finally glimpsed the so-called Pure Land—disgusted with the defiled land, yearning for the Pure Land, and the Pure Land seemed to be within reach.

"Let's go home...back to Okazaki!"

"Yes!"

……

The same bright moon, different thoughts.

The death of Imagawa Yoshimoto seemed to symbolize the decline of the once-powerful Imagawa family. But it wasn't just him; the loss of more than 2,500 lives in Okehazama represented the grief of one or even several families.

The Ii Valley had been shrouded in gloom for several days. The death of the head of the family, Naomori, left this wealthy family in Tōtōmi without its leader. For a time, everyone was in a state of panic and at a loss. Naomori had no son, so the next head of the family could only be chosen from among relatives and collateral relatives. Who would become the new head of the family? How would the Ii family overcome the difficulties in the future? All sorts of questions weighed heavily on everyone's minds like huge stones, making it hard for them to breathe.

However, Jiro, the monk who lived at Ryutaiji Temple and was the only daughter of Ii Naomori, was not affected by this.

After attending her father's funeral in a meticulous manner, Jiro seemed to quickly return to her normal life, chanting Buddhist scriptures, reading, practicing shooting, or teaching the young boys and girls who came to the temple to study. Even though those around her were worried about her, this daughter who had just lost her father seemed a little too calm.

Perhaps she was inherently cold-hearted—people who disliked her gossiped behind her back. Jiro overheard this once, but instead of getting angry, he simply smiled faintly, leaving others puzzled. The Tenji sisters had discussed this topic several times, their words filled with worry.

"...Many people are worried about you."

Inside the meditation room, the moonlight was clear and bright.

Steam rose from the boiling water in the tea kettle. Jiro, holding the kettle, skimmed off the foam as he looked up at the small, thin figure that had suddenly appeared in the room.

“Eighth Brother, going through the window is not the behavior of a virtuous person.”

"Oh, so it's a window? Sorry, I thought it was a door—" The blind woman sitting by the window grinned, her cane in her left hand. As she sat cross-legged, she untied the gourd from her waist and was about to put it in her mouth...

"This is a temple; it is not appropriate to drink alcohol here," Master Jiro said, frowning slightly.

“This is not wine, it is prajna soup,” Yashiro explained.

"If you are thirsty, I can make you some tea."

"The tea is bitter."

"Bitter medicine is the best medicine."

"I'm not sick, I don't need to take medicine."

They chatted back and forth, and although Yashiro seemed stubborn, she still put down her gourd, moved forward on her knees, and sat down steadily opposite the teapot. Unlike usual, when she always kept her eyes closed, she opened her eyelids slightly, revealing a few dry eyes, staring intently at Jiro.

Logically speaking, an ordinary person would feel a little uncomfortable being treated like this, but the woman said nothing and did not hesitate at all when brewing tea. She stirred the tea powder as smoothly as flowing water, and when the aroma of tea gradually filled the room, she handed the tea bowl over with both hands.

"please."

Yashiro took the bowl, but didn't drink immediately. Instead, she kept blowing on it as if afraid it would be too hot. Jiro watched her quietly, his face expressionless. Only after she finally took a sip did he ask, "How is it?"

"It's very bitter."

Hearing this blunt assessment, even the usually mild-mannered Jiro couldn't help but twitch his lips: "Is that so..."

"You know I've never been good at appreciating tea. Besides, I didn't come here specifically to drink tea—"

"If it's not for tea, then what is it for..." Jiro paused, seemingly lost in thought, "You said many people are worried about me, including you, sir?"

"I am indeed here."

"Please rest assured, I'm fine..."

"But the main reason I came here this time is to tell you something. I didn't want to say it, but I just feel like I have a fishbone stuck in my throat, and I have to get it out..." Yashiro picked up his teacup, took another sip, and forced the tea to taste like alcohol.

Of course, if it really was alcohol, she wouldn't be able to drink so heavily, given her alcohol tolerance.

"Oh, what is it?" Jiro asked, seemingly curious.

Yashiro didn't beat around the bush, but went straight to the point and asked, "Master, do you still remember the brocade pouch I gave you last time, hoping you would pass it on to Lord Naomori?"

“I do remember. What happened to that brocade pouch?” Jiro nodded, pondering what Yashiro wanted to say during her late-night visit. However, when she heard the blind girl’s next sentence, she froze, the smile that had just appeared on her face instantly vanishing.

"What if I said..."

Bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, Yashiro, with his cane in his arms and a teacup in his hands, spoke in a light, casual tone, as if he were discussing something trivial: “I’ve known for a long time that Daisuke Jibu would die in Okehazama, and that your father would perish as well, but I never said a word to warn him… Master, what do you think of that?”

……

Chapter 105 Human Hearts Are Like Water

The night breeze was cool, and the insects chirped incessantly, yet between the two people sitting opposite each other, there was only a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.

Jiro was pouring tea for himself when he heard this. His fingers, which were holding the rim of the bowl, trembled almost imperceptibly. Although he did not show any obvious emotion, Yashiro did not miss the fact that Jiro's heartbeat quickened for a moment.

"What...do you mean by that?" The woman lowered her eyelids, no longer looking directly at the figure sitting opposite her, as if she were staring intently at the boiling water in the teapot.

"That's literally what it means."

With a slight smile, Yashiro slowly replied, "Master, you should still remember that I am from the Iga region. Although I am now living in exile, I often learn secrets earlier than others through some unspeakable connections... such as this surprise attack that took place in Okehazama."

To be honest, her reasoning was somewhat far-fetched. After all, Oda Nobunaga only made the decision to take this gamble in the early hours of May 19th. Before that, even his closest retainers didn't know he had this plan, let alone the Iga ninjas.

On the other hand, Imagawa Yoshimoto's camping and resting at Okehazama was also caused by a series of coincidences. Not to mention the torrential rain that almost decided everything. Unless Zhuge Liang was reborn or Bo Wen was resurrected, how could anyone have known about Yoshimoto's defeat in advance?

Besides, the so-called "small connections" were just something Yashiro casually mentioned. Ever since she was taken in by Koshin Koji, she had lost contact with the Iga people. Even if she had her father's old friends or subordinates, she hadn't had any contact with them for more than ten years. She was all alone and had no one to rely on.

However, those who are deceived will not know the truth. While it might be difficult to use these facts to deceive those who experienced the battle firsthand at Okehazama, Jiro's knowledge was limited, and he was not familiar with the details of the war. Furthermore, long before Ii Naomori went to war, Yashiro had already given her a brocade pouch to pass on to Naomori.

Even with this incident, Jiro remained skeptical. But more than investigating the veracity of the content itself, she was concerned about: "Eighth-hiro benefactor..."

"kindness?"

What exactly are your plans?

The two have known each other for six years, though they've only actually spent about a third of that time together. That's enough for Jiro to have a general understanding of her personality. So she didn't press the matter further or believe it wholeheartedly, nor did she angrily rebuke Yashiro for knowing the truth and watching her father die on the battlefield.

Instead, he directly asked the question that had been on his mind.

When the question was asked, Yashiro was taken aback. She was holding a bowl of tea that was almost half-finished, and it was as if the lines she had rehearsed in her mind had been suddenly interrupted. She didn't know how to respond.

After a while, she sighed softly, "I just... um, how should I put it..."

After thinking for a long time, she still couldn't come up with a suitable sentence. Yashiro frowned, hesitant to speak, and hesitant to speak. Jiro, on the other hand, waited patiently for her to speak, while pouring water and making tea. His movements were as smooth as flowing water, all in one go.

Soon after, amidst the rising smoke, the aroma of tea wafted through the air once more.

Jiro, however, did not pick up the bowl of hot tea. Instead, he raised his gentle eyes again and quietly gazed at his friend across from him, whose face was full of turmoil. He did not say a word or urge him on. But the more he acted this way, the more likely he was to give people an invisible pressure.

"Never mind..." In the end, Yashiro didn't say what she wanted to say. She sighed again, and almost as if venting her anger, she drank the rest of the tea that had already gone cold in one gulp.

"What do you mean by 'forget it'?"

"Forget it, it's fine now!"

“Since everything is alright, please go back quickly. It’s getting late, and if Mio wakes up and finds you’re not here, she’ll probably start crying again,” said Jiro with a smile.

Yashiro pursed her lips, put down the empty bowl, and said, "I'm leaving!" Picking up her cane, she turned around and suddenly jumped out of the window again. Jiro looked over, but only saw a bright moon in the sky, and that figure disappeared without a trace in an instant.

"As expected of Benefactor Yashiro, your agility has improved even more than before... It's truly enviable." She shook her head, gave a wry smile, and after a moment, looking at the empty bowl with water stains still on the edge, she repeated, "It's truly... enviable."

The voice sounded lower and softer than usual.

……

The moonlight was bright, but unfortunately, the person walking on the dark road did not need light to illuminate their path.

Yashiro, leaning on her cane, walked slowly and steadily, even though it was a path she had traversed countless times in the past two years. Her cane tapped the ground, occasionally flicking aside a pebble or two that rolled away. Suddenly, she seemed to hear something, stopped in her tracks, and stood still.

At the same time, a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows of the trees on the left.

"you lose."

A slightly androgynous voice rang out.

"I'll accept my loss." Yashiro said somewhat unhappily, reaching into his sleeve with his right hand and pulling out a missing Yongle coin. He then tossed it away with a thumbs up.

The coin, round on the outside and square on the inside, drew a beautiful arc in the air before being caught by Wuyi. However, Wuyi immediately tossed the coin back to Wuyi untouched.

Yashiro didn't reach out to catch it, letting the copper coin fall at her feet with a "clink".

"Look at your gloomy, pitiful face, here's your money back. Go buy yourself some dumplings or something." Mai crossed her arms and leaned against the tree trunk behind her, her tone clearly teasing.

Seeing that Yashiro still had no intention of picking it up, she laughed again: "What, are you ashamed of losing the bet? Don't worry about it, it's not the first time you've lost to me anyway. Practice makes perfect, you should be used to it by now."