Tokyo, 1991: Starting as a bank clerk.

Kiryu Yaya raised an eyebrow.

€50,000 has been credited to my account.

As for the reservation ticket...

When he looked at the words "Kitahama Old Shop Japanese Confectionery", the first person that came to mind was Ayako Shiraishi.

It would be inappropriate to arrive empty-handed for the Shiraishi family's dinner party in the afternoon.

Giving something too expensive would be considered excessive.

This kind of traditional shop and confectionery gift box is just right.

Neither frivolous nor shabby.

Kiryu Yaya looked away, placed the snacks left by Mrs. Matsushita on the table, picked up his coat again, and prepared to go out.

Chapter 37 The Baishi Family Banquet

Saturday afternoon at four o'clock.

Kiryu Yaya stood in front of an old Japanese confectionery shop in Kitahama, looking up at the somewhat aged wooden signboard.

The lettering on the signboard has been worn and faded by time, but the edges are clean. A dark blue noren hangs at the entrance, and the noren is gently lifted by the late April wind and then slowly falls back down.

This is Beibang Old Shop.

If it weren't for this voucher, Kiryu Yaya probably wouldn't have ventured into a place like this for a long time.

This kind of store looks very expensive.

For him now, the word "expensive" alone is enough to make people keep their distance.

Kiryu Yaya pushed open the door and went in.

"jingle."

The brass bell on the door rang softly.

The store is not very spacious, but the display cases are filled with rows of exquisite seasonal fruits and nuts.

Sakura mochi, wakame, kashiwa mochi, and several boxes of nerikiri shaped like tender green maple leaves.

The female shop assistant behind the counter was wearing a light gray kimono and looked to be in her early forties. When she saw him come in, she immediately bowed slightly.

Welcome!

Kiryu Yaya took out the voucher.

"I've come to pick up the gift box I reserved."

The female shop assistant took it and glanced at it; her gaze immediately softened.

"Please wait a moment."

She turned and went into the inner room, and soon came out with a wrapped paulownia wood box.

It was wrapped in light beige paper and tied with a dark green string, the knot of which was tied neatly.

The shop's name is stamped in a small, elegant seal in the lower right corner of the paper.

"This is our limited-edition spring gift box for today. It contains cherry blossom leaf Domyouji, plum kudzu bun, wakakusa nerikiri, and azuki bean yokan."

Kiryu Yaya checked the price; this gift box cost around €5000.

The saleswoman placed the gift box on the counter and then asked:

Is it for gifting?

"Yes."

"Then I'll add another layer of outsourcing for you."

"It's troublesome."

Kiryu Yaya stood in front of the counter, watching her skillfully repackage the gift box.

When I came out of the wagashi shop, the sun had already begun to set in the west.

The streets around Kitahama looked very clean in the evening light.

Near the Osaka Stock Exchange, a few people in suits were still coming and going, and the shadows of young office workers could be seen reflected in the glass windows of cafes.

The evening paper was displayed at a newsstand on the street, and the front page still featured words like "falling land prices," "financial instability," and "the end of the Heisei boom."

But the pedestrians on the street didn't seem so heavy-hearted.

A young girl wearing a light-colored long skirt and a short jacket is carrying a paper bag from a department store; several male college students are standing in front of a vending machine distributing soft drinks; and in the distance, a record store has posters of the latest pop songs on display.

This is Japan in 1991.

The foam has burst, but the neon lights are still on.

Kiryu Yaya, carrying wagashi (Japanese sweets), took the train to Toyonaka.

Ayako Shiraishi arranged to meet at Toyonaka Station at 5:30 PM.

When he arrived, Keiko Miyazawa was already standing next to the station exit.

Today she was wearing a light cherry blossom-colored cardigan over a white shirt, paired with a dark blue long skirt, and her hair was softly draped over her shoulders.

She was also holding a small bouquet of flowers, white lisianthus and light pink carnations, a very refreshing combination.

Her eyes lit up slightly when she saw Kiryu Yaya.

"Kiryu-kun."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just arrived too."

Keiko Miyazawa looked down at the gift box in his hand and smiled, saying:

"You brought a gift too?"

"We can't go empty-handed."

"He looks like a bank employee."

"What does this have to do with bank employees?"

Keiko Miyazawa thought for a moment and said seriously:

"It's the kind of person who... always considers procedures and etiquette first, no matter what."

Kiryu Yaya was silent for a second.

"It doesn't sound like a compliment."

Keiko Miyazawa laughed.

"That's a compliment."

As the two were talking, a dark blue Toyota slowly pulled up to the side of the road.

The car window rolled down, and Ayako Shiraishi leaned out of the driver's seat.

"Keiko! Kiryu-san! Over here!"

She was dressed much more casually today than she was at the bank; her chestnut hair was loosely pinned back with a hair clip, and she didn't have that tense look on her face.

Seeing the two get into the car, she immediately smiled and said:

"That's great! I was worried you'd get lost."

Keiko Miyazawa sat in the back seat and placed the bouquet on her lap.

"Ayako, you actually drove here to pick us up yourself."

"There's nothing we can do."

Ayako Shiraishi sighed as she started the car.

“My father has been practicing saying thank you at home since the afternoon. If he comes to pick you up again, he might recite his thanks three times on the way from the station to home.”

Keiko Miyazawa couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Is Uncle Shiraishi taking this so seriously?"

"It was frighteningly solemn."

Ayako Shiraishi said helplessly:

“His mother had already warned him that tonight was a family dinner, not a shareholders’ meeting.”

Kiryu Yaya, sitting in the passenger seat, smiled upon hearing this.

The car drove through the Fengzhong residential area.

Neatly trimmed hedges and low walls line both sides of the street, and occasionally you can see two-story wooden houses with warm yellow light shining from their windows.

Unlike the crowds in downtown Osaka, this area is much quieter, as if the city's hustle and bustle has been kept out of reach of the train station.

The Shiraishi family home is located deep within one of these quiet streets.

It's not an extravagant mansion, but the yard is beautifully manicured.