Yashiro the Blind

Unfortunately, because of what happened some time ago, there was always a subtle atmosphere when she was with Jiro. It was fine if there were other people around, but as soon as the two of them were alone, Yashiro felt inexplicably uneasy. To put it inappropriately, it was as if a hundred dragons were running wild and making a ruckus in her heart.

Overwhelmed by this unfamiliar feeling, many of the things she wanted to say were inexplicably stuck in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single complete sentence. She could only keep drinking to cover up her embarrassment.

Then Jiro confiscated her gourd.

"If you want to drink something, you might as well have tea."

"Hmm, oh..."

After similar incidents occurred a few times, Yashiro stopped going to Ryutaiji Temple as often. This change certainly didn't escape the notice of those close to her. Hatsume and Mai had both subtly inquired about it a few times, with the older sister asking directly, "Hey, did you offend our eldest sister in some way, which is why you haven't been able to see her lately?"

Hatsume was much gentler: "Yashiro-neechan, what happened between you and eldest sister? If you don't mind, you can tell me, although I probably can't help much... Anyway, don't keep everything bottled up inside, you'll get sick!"

The little girl held her hands, her tone sincere and full of concern.

However, regardless of who it was, Yashiro ultimately brushed them off with a few words. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about it, but rather that this feeling had come out of nowhere, was extremely unfamiliar, and even she herself couldn't figure it out. She was completely bewildered, so how could she even begin to explain?

Fortunately, although the Tenji sisters have completely different personalities, neither of them are the type to pester others. They could tell that Yashiro didn't want to talk about it in depth, so they never brought up the topic again. As for whether they went to ask Jiro the monk in private... without a doubt, they did.

But that's not under Yashiro's jurisdiction.

She hadn't truly fallen out with Master Jiro; quite the opposite, she simply didn't want to go to Ryutaiji Temple herself. Usually, when something happened on her side, or when the master had something to do, she and her sister would act as messengers. Today was no exception.

After waking up, she couldn't hear Mai and Hatsume's voices around her. Later, she learned from Mio that the two had gone down the mountain early in the morning, probably to report the information about Minjimaru to the monk Jiro. At the same time, Mai also had to inform her subordinates that the person had been found and that they should go back to their homes as soon as possible, whether they were farming or running shops.

After all this commotion, the two of them wouldn't be back until three or four in the afternoon at the earliest. If something else happened to delay them or they went to stroll around the market, it would take even longer.

From another perspective, Mai might have considered that Minji Maru's purpose in coming here was to seek help from Hachi, and that having herself and Hatsume by her side might be a bit of a hindrance, so it would be better to take Hatsume down the mountain and make room for her.

In other words, Hachishiro has to figure out how to eat today himself.

Normally, the virtuous young cook, Chuya, is in charge of cooking. Although the girl's cooking skills are not outstanding, she has skillful hands and a clever mind. Whether the food she makes is delicious or not, it is at least satisfying and makes people happy.

Yashiro doesn't have that ability.

In her past life, her cooking skills were limited to boiling instant noodles and frying fried rice, just enough to keep her from starving. In this life, she spent most of her time wandering around, eating and drinking for free, and rarely had the opportunity to cook for herself. Even when the Tenji sisters were out and she was home alone, Yashiro preferred to drink a few mouthfuls of alcohol rather than painstakingly wash, chop, rinse rice, and start a fire, only to eat a meager meal. Once she was drunk, she would fall asleep, knowing that a cook would prepare a meal for her when she woke up.

When scolded by Hatsuya, she would still argue, "I'm not being lazy, it's about respecting the food! I'd much rather have these rice and vegetables cooked by you, Hatsuya, than have them haphazardly cooked by an amateur like me! That's the dignity of a martial artist!"

"Then, Yashiro-neechan, why don't you learn how to cook? That way, these foods can die with dignity!"

"No, I just want to eat the food that Hatsune makes—okay?"

No matter what the situation, as long as Yashiro brings out this trump card and acts a little cute, Hatsume's mood will immediately brighten, she will stop being angry, and she will smile foolishly and be completely obedient to her.

Yashiro sometimes felt a pang of guilt, thinking that if she were still a man, her behavior would make her look like a smooth-talking, gigolo... So, being a girl has its advantages.

At least we don't have to worry about being hacked to pieces.

But as the old saying goes, the past is the past, and the present is the present. Now that Mio is by her side, and with Minjimaru's stomach rumbling, she definitely can't drown her sorrows in alcohol anymore. Yashiro shook her head, sighed inwardly, and gritted her teeth, picking through the ingredients by touch and taste. Mio followed beside her, standing on tiptoe, watching her with sparkling eyes.

"Mommy! Mio is hungry! She wants to eat! She wants to eat Mommy's cooking!"

"..."

Her daughter's innocent expectations weighed heavily on Hachika's heart like a mountain, leaving her speechless and choked with emotion. At the same time, she secretly made up her mind to start learning how to cook seriously from Hatsume starting tomorrow... the day after tomorrow, or the day after that... next month.

Okay, let's start next month!

……

As it turned out, she had underestimated Chuya's meticulousness.

Leftover rice and sliced ​​dried radish were already prepared in the kitchen; a quick pour of hot water would make a simple breakfast. Although Yashiro felt a sense of powerlessness, like punching cotton, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't lose face in front of her daughter…

I must start seriously learning cooking skills in two months!

She made up her mind again, her hands never stopping. She had only intended to make some hot water, but under Mio's watchful eye, she inexplicably started cooking miso soup. The aroma wafted out on the wind, and soon Minji Maru, who had just finished bathing in the mountain stream and changed into clean clothes, was attracted by the fragrance.

The girl had initially offered to help, but Yashiro's competitive spirit kicked in, and she insisted on finishing it all by herself. Minjimaru then squatted down next to Mio, her ponytail swaying behind her head. The two of them, one big and one small, stared expectantly at the miso soup.

After a moment, Yashiro sniffed it and muttered, "It seems a bit salty..." He took a spoonful, but before he could put it in his mouth, he was choked by the saltiness and started coughing.

"Mom, add water! It won't taste salty if we add water!" Xiaoling offered a constructive suggestion.

But when Yashiro added water, it simmered for a while, and this time it was surprisingly bland and tasteless.

"Let's add some more sauce," Minji Maru suggested this time.

"...It's too salty."

"add water!"

"It's faded..."

"Add sauce?"

Add more water to the sauce, add more sauce to the water. The three people in the kitchen were busy. As time passed, the soup in the pot became more and more plentiful, and eventually it even overflowed. Fortunately, Minji Maru was there. Before the floodwaters overflowed, he performed a skillful trick, gulping down the soup like a cow, and managed to bring the water level back to its original position.

"how is the taste?"

"Perfectly seasoned, just the right amount of salt, it tastes amazing!"

"That's good..." Hearing Minjimaru's reply, Yashiro's slightly anxious heart finally settled down. Afterwards, each of them held their rice bowls. Minjimaru slurped his food with chopsticks, while Yashiro used a spoon, taking a bite himself and feeding the girl in his arms a bite, leaving all the radishes for Mio, without eating any for himself.

The crunching sound seemed more melodious than any musical tune. She smiled and was about to scoop another spoonful of rice when she suddenly paused. The girl picked up a piece of her own dried radish and handed it to her. Although she couldn't see the girl's expression, she could imagine the smile on her face from her voice: "It's delicious. You should try some too."

This was said sincerely, as if he genuinely just thought the food was delicious and wanted to share it with others. Yashiro was about to refuse, but upon hearing this, she smiled, scooped up some dried radish, and put it in her mouth.

Click click click——

The crisp chewing sounds gradually stopped.

The sun was slowly moving westward, shifting from the eastern peaks to its zenith, and the cicadas' annual chirping echoed through the forest. Since too much miso soup had been cooked that morning, there was no need to make it again for lunch; instead, rice was cooked anew. As always, Yashiro was busy, with the two of them, one big and one small, offering suggestions. After all the fuss, unsurprisingly, too much rice was cooked again.

After eating and drinking her fill, Minji Maru took the initiative to wash the dishes and basins. When she finished washing them, covered in sweat, and was about to come back to find the two of them, she suddenly heard a melodious tune.

That was the sound of a pipa.

Yashiro sat under a tree, holding his old, broken pipa. As he swayed the plectrum, he hummed softly, though the tune was off-key and more like a casual pastime after a meal.

Little Mio sat beside him, holding her favorite toy, a little wooden horse given to her by Jiro. She was playing with it, babbling happily, her little mind seemingly conjuring up some magnificent story.

Minjimaru stood at a distance, silently watching this scene. For a moment, he dared not approach, afraid of breaking this beautiful picture. But the music suddenly stopped. Yashiro did not look up, but her ears twitched slightly: "It's too sunny over there. Come over. It's cooler here."

"It's cool!" Mio turned her head and smiled at the older sister she had just met.

"it is good."

The girl nodded and walked over, then Mio pulled her sleeve and half-forced her to sit down in the shade of a tree.

The cicadas were chirping all around, the same sound as yesterday, the day before yesterday, and the day before that. But while it had seemed deafeningly noisy before, Minji Maru now felt a strange sense of peace, as if the noise only served to accentuate the quiet around him.

"The cicadas' chirping makes the forest even quieter..." she recited casually.

"Oh?" Yashiro was slightly taken aback. "This poem..."

"I didn't write this poem," Minji Maru hurriedly denied any involvement.

“I know. ‘The cicadas’ chirping makes the forest seem even quieter, the birds’ singing makes the mountain seem even more secluded’, a famous line from the ages, quite fitting for the occasion.” Yashiro chuckled, then flicked her plectrum, and the biwa produced a few clear and melodious sounds. “Is there anything you’d like to hear? Don’t worry, I won’t ask you for money.”

"What I want to hear..."

The light and shadow in the forest swayed in the wind, flickering and dappled. The girl gripped her ankles, sat cross-legged, and gazed at the leaves above her head. For a moment, her gaze was blank, as if she were lost in thought. She then looked back and glanced at the girl beside her.

Suddenly, he asked, "Miss Yashiro, can you sing songs from the Feather Kingdom?"

"Hmm... I've been to Dewa before and learned some local folk songs, but it's definitely not all of them. It depends on which one you specifically want to hear."

"That--"

Minjimaru uttered a name. Yashiro tilted his head, thought for a moment, and cleared his throat.

The next moment, it was as if a gust of wind and snow swept across the mountains, and a nostalgic melody, a gentle song with a hint of local accent, rang in the girl's ears once again after many years...

……

Chapter 115 Slaying the God's Might

"Are you asleep...?"

The music, like mist, drifted away from her fingertips. Hearing the two even breaths beside her, Yashiro couldn't help but smile softly.

Children of Mio's age are full of energy, but they also get tired very easily. Just a moment ago she was playing happily, but now she is lying on the ground with her belly half exposed, still tightly clutching her beloved rocking horse toy, fast asleep.

Beside her, Minjimaru sat cross-legged, holding her five-foot-long sword, his head bowed, his breathing long and shallow, clearly already deep in sleep—which was actually quite normal, because the lullaby she had just wanted Yashiro to sing was a long-standing lullaby from Dewa Province, which many mothers used to use to lull their children to sleep. The girl was probably recalling those days, her lips slightly upturned, but there was a hint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Alone in a foreign land, a stranger in a strange land," only a wanderer can truly understand the pain of homesickness. Even though Yashiro has become accustomed to life in this world, she still dreams of the tall buildings and magnificent structures of her past from time to time. Compared to Iga Valley, where she was born and raised in this life, the ordinary coastal town in her previous life was her true hometown.

Unfortunately, we can't go back...

Time flows like water, never to return. All we can do is seize the present and move towards the future. Yashiro had long understood this principle, so she naturally wouldn't indulge in useless reminiscences and sighs. At this moment, she simply shook her head, feeling slightly melancholy. After a while, she composed herself, got up, put the biwa back in its place, and then gently carried the sleeping Mio inside.

With her skill, these two trips back and forth wouldn't have alerted anyone. She put Mio in bed. It was still daytime, and the sun was shining brightly. It was a bit warm to be covered with a blanket, so she just took a shirt and put it on the girl. Then she felt around and kissed Mio's forehead. After that, she moved like a shadow and disappeared.

The Minji Maru outside is still asleep.

Every now and then, it would smack its lips and mumble a few indistinct words in its sleep, showing no sign of waking up anytime soon.

"It's better to be lucky than early..."

Yashiro hesitated for a moment. Originally, she had arranged to meet the other party at dusk, not now. However, since the girl was already asleep and she had nothing else to do, she might as well test the waters. Otherwise, if she waited until dusk, she might have to knock the girl out again, which was pointless.

Without thinking, she drew her staff-sword and pointed the tip at the sleeping girl.

Minji remained motionless, only his snoring continued.

"what?"

She slowly extended her longsword, but even as she placed it against the girl's neck, just an inch closer to pierce her skin, Minjimaru remained unresponsive. Yashiro, puzzled but unwilling to actually harm her, she sheathed her sword, tilted her head, and pondered for a moment.

In fact, she was no stranger to Minjimaru's situation. Back in the Kashima Shrine in Hitachi Province, Yashiro herself had experienced something similar. When she sensed hostility, her body acted faster than her thoughts, and she even twisted her wrist several times, suffering greatly.

"If I'm not mistaken, you must have been influenced by someone's sword intent."

After learning about her situation, Tsukahara Bokuden said the following.

"Sword Intent?"

"That's right." The Sword Saint nodded, then asked, "Have you heard of the Fourth Degree Martial Bone?"

"Four degrees... what?"

"It's normal that you haven't heard of it. The concept of the Four Degrees of Martial Bones was originally a martial arts theory proposed by a certain extraordinary person in the Tang Dynasty. It roughly divides the progress of ordinary people's martial arts into four stages. The first degree of martial bones is the so-called external training of hands, eyes and body, tempering muscles and bones, wielding knives and spears. It is all superficial skills, merely having the form."

"Upon reaching the second level of martial bone, one goes a step further, not only training the body but also cultivating the mind, ultimately reaching a state of unity of body and mind, and harmony between sword and Zen. Some people think this is just mystification, but there is a unique charm in swords and sabers."

He paused, reached out and took Yashiro's cane, casually drew his sword, and flicked it lightly with his finger.

A sharp, resounding sword cry rang out.

"In my life, I have made a name for myself with swords, combining ancient and modern techniques to create the new style. The most famous secret technique of the new style is the Ichi no Tachi. Everyone knows the Ichi no Tachi, but no one knows why I chose this name in the first place."

The blind woman sat quietly in complete darkness, as if the whole world consisted only of herself and the old man sitting opposite her. In her perception, Tsukahara Bokuden seemed to grow taller and taller with each word he spoke, until he burst through the roof beams, soaring into the clouds, reaching the heavens above his head... Of course, this could only be an illusion.

Because the aura emanating from an elderly person changes, the feeling they evoke is completely different.

"When I was young, unlike others, I had almost no interest in fame or honor. Instead, I devoted almost all my energy to the way of the sword. I studied and practiced diligently every day and made rapid progress. Soon, even my masters were no longer my match. However, I always felt that something was missing. In order to find the answer, I embarked on the journey of martial arts training."

"Traveling from Kanto to the Kinki region, I sparred with masters from numerous schools, some in life-or-death battles, and even experienced several brushes with death on the battlefield. Finally, I found the answer I was looking for, something I had been lacking—"

"It is a trend."

Tsukahara Bokuden said.

The general trend of the world is vast and unstoppable; those who follow it prosper, and those who oppose it perish.

"The concept of sword aura may sound vague and ethereal, but you might as well think about it. Just like those veteran generals who have fought on the battlefield for many years, they naturally carry a tragic and magnificent aura. The name of a general who holds power and whose word can determine the life and death of millions of people is majestic and awe-inspiring without anger. Similarly, whether it is a hermit in the mountains or a Zen monk in meditation, as long as they have cultivated to a certain level, they will have their own 'aura' - this principle also applies to us martial artists."

"The name 'Ichi no Tachi' (一之太刀) actually means 'unity of oneness.' Although all things are different, their essence can be similar, and they all return to oneness. This is the principle of swordsmanship, and it is also the principle of being a person. This is what I have come to understand over the years. Do you remember it?"

“I’ve got it.” Yashiro nodded.

“Very well, then from now on, forget all these words little by little.” Tsukahara Bokuden’s words were astonishing.

Yashiro wasn't surprised; she simply asked, "Why?"

"Because this is a principle I've come to understand, not your own. My 'One-Sword Technique' may not necessarily suit you. Your sword, your aura, you need to find and comprehend them slowly on your own. Otherwise, it will be difficult to make any further progress."

"A step further?"

"The fourth stage of martial bone cultivation consists of three phases: the first is physical training, the second is leveraging external forces, and the third is cultivating intent. For a long time, I thought the latter two phases were fabricated because they sounded so absurd and bizarre. It wasn't until I returned to Deer Island and spent a thousand days in seclusion at Ling Mountain, and on the last day, when Master Guomo arrived with wind and thunder, that I witnessed the third stage of martial bone cultivation for the first time—transcendent, saintly—"

As the old man finished speaking, he closed his eyes, as if recalling the scene from that time once again.

"Those who haven't experienced it firsthand can hardly imagine that magnificent sword strike, which far surpasses the realm of borrowing momentum, but rather draws upon the power of heaven and earth with its own power. A single strike shakes the heavens and earth... Haha, to tell you the truth, this old man originally thought he had mastered all his skills to the extreme, and was somewhat proud and complacent. It wasn't until that night, after that sword strike, that I realized how short-sighted and narrow-minded I was. It turns out that there are even higher realms in martial arts, like a vast ocean, endless and boundless..."

He sighed softly, but his tone betrayed little disappointment, instead carrying a childlike elation. He then opened his eyes and looked directly at him: "Although I don't know exactly what happened, I can vaguely sense a similar, otherworldly aura emanating from you. Hachishiro, do you have any clues?"