Yashiro the Blind

“I’m not that petty,” Yashiro replied, then held up three fingers.

"What do you mean?"

"One skewer isn't enough, I want three," she said seriously.

Mai rolled her eyes upon hearing this: "Eat, eat, all you know is eating, I'll make you choke to death!" Despite saying this, she still tossed over two more coins. This time, Yashiro accepted them properly, and even scooped up the first copper coin on the ground with his cane and put it in his hand.

"Are you satisfied now?"

"Satisfied."

"Then give me a smile."

"...Where did you learn such words? Be careful, or I'll go tell Hatsune on you."

"Tsk, I hate people like you who secretly tattle... You have no sportsmanship!" Mai clicked her tongue, swayed, and walked out of the woods. She skillfully reached out and grabbed the top of Yashiro's cane. "Let's go, or your girl will start crying again."

Yashiro obediently followed behind, asking, "Is she awake?"

"I woke up once, but then Chuya coaxed me back to sleep."

"Oh."

"so what?"

"Why?"

"Still pretending? I was asking how your conversation with your older sister went... Never mind, since I didn't see your older sister chasing after us with a gun, it means your plan has definitely failed. I've said it before, your older sister isn't the type to take her anger out on others for no reason."

Mai continued walking into the mountains without stopping, glancing at the person following behind her from time to time. Each movement was quite cautious, as if afraid that the other person would notice her concern. She was still scolding, "...I really don't know what you were thinking, Yashiro. You actually said that you knew all along that Imagawa Jibu Daisuke would be beheaded at Okehazama. Not to mention me, even your Mio wouldn't believe such a lie, let alone your eldest sister!"

Whether you believe it or not is not important.

"Yes, whether you believe it or not is not important. What's important is to give your older sister a reason or excuse to vent her suppressed feelings... You've said these things more than once, and I'm tired of hearing them—but the facts prove that your older sister doesn't need your so-called venting. She won't blame or even hate someone for such a ridiculous reason."

Mai's voice gradually became serious. At the end, she stopped and stared at Yashiro, as if blaming her, but also as if reminding her, "So, stop thinking about this. If your eldest sister really gets angry, even you might not be able to escape unscathed."

Yashiro was slightly taken aback: "You... are you worried about me?"

"Who cares about you! Nonsense!" Wu Yi shouted angrily, throwing off her cane and striding forward without looking back. Because she was walking so fast, the katana she had tucked into her waistband jingled and rattled.

She even brought a weapon... Yashiro smiled slightly, and the next second, the dancer in front scolded, "What are you laughing at? Hurry up and catch up!"

How did you know I smiled?

"I guessed, so what, is that not allowed!"

"Okay, okay, okay..."

Raising her hands and shrugging her shoulders in a show of weakness, Yashiro didn't linger and followed closely behind. Seeing this, Mai snorted again and started walking again.

However, in the darkness of night, Yashiro's lips slowly drooped again.

She had discussed this with the Tenji sisters before... or rather, they had debated it several times. Yashiro herself felt that Jiro was definitely suppressing his emotions, and if he continued like this, he would eventually get sick from it. However, both Mai and Hatsume thought that she was just worrying unnecessarily. In their opinion, her older sister would definitely feel sad because her father was gone, but that was all.

The two sides argued endlessly, neither able to convince the other. Finally, Yashiro decided to take matters into her own hands and give it a try. Before coming here tonight, she had actually prepared herself for Jiro to lose control of his emotions and even start a fight. However, to her surprise, his performance was much calmer than she had imagined.

It seems that, just as the Tianzhi sisters said, she was only worrying unnecessarily.

But if it were truly unfounded worry... then Jiro's heart wouldn't have suddenly become rapid and unsteady several times during their conversation. If before this was just speculation, then at this moment, Yashiro's conjecture had become certainty.

"It seems we need to add fuel to the fire..." she said softly.

"Yashiro."

Suddenly, Wu Yi spoke up, "Let me make this clear from the start: if you really cause any trouble, I can't save you."

"Oh, so heartless?"

"It's not a matter of being heartless or cold-hearted."

"What's the problem?"

"It's because I can't beat my older sister," Mai said earnestly. After a pause, she added, "Even if my older sister gave me a handicap, I still couldn't beat her."

"Have you tried?"

"More than once."

"……Oh."

……

The rest of May flew by, and June arrived, with the weather growing increasingly hot.

The conversation that night seemed to have no effect. Jiro remained as calm and indifferent as ever, only occasionally appearing lost in thought, his eyes vacant, as if he were pondering something.

Yashiro stopped bringing up the topic and would visit Ryutaiji Temple every now and then. Sometimes she would mooch tea from the women, and other times she would bring Mio along. The little girl would call out "Jiro-neechan" in her unclear speech while tugging at Jiro's sleeve and climbing up and down, having a great time. Not to mention the two little dwarfs, Yashiro and Hatsume, even the relatively tall Mai couldn't play with her like that.

Haotian and the other monks met the criteria. They had all watched the little girl grow up from infancy and doted on her immensely, eager for her to play with them. Unfortunately, the little girl seemed to dislike these monks, always saying in her childish voice, "It's hard! Hard as a rock!"

She then pointed at Jiro-sama: "Soft, tall older sister, Mio, I like her!"

The child, who was just over two years old, still spoke haltingly and could only utter a few simple words. Having never cared for other children before, Yashiro didn't know if this progress was fast or slow, but she always felt that compared to physical development, the little girl seemed to be particularly precocious on a psychological level.

At just a few years old, she already knows how to snuggle in the arms of pretty older sisters and want to be hugged!

This is simply outrageous, so enviable... *cough*, she didn't say anything.

Jiro, the monk, indulged her joy, not only without getting annoyed but also occasionally picking the child up and swaying her above his head. Whenever this happened, little Mio would giggle, spread her arms, and imitate a bird flapping its wings: "Mio, I've turned into a bird, fly high!" She looked completely absorbed in her happiness.

When she gets tired of playing and returns to Yashiro's side, she will pout a little sadly.

"Mommy, I'm too short, I can't fly high..."

"Try saying that again!" Yashiro angrily grabbed her cheeks and rubbed them like rice cakes. Mio hurriedly begged for mercy, "Y-yes, I'm sorry..."

"Do you know you're wrong?"

"Know...know the knife!"

She said pitifully, but as soon as Yashiro let go, Mio rubbed her red cheeks and quickly crawled to the back of the Tenji sisters or Jiro, relying on their protection, she poked her little head out and continued to bully them: "Mommy, short!"

"..."

"Alright, alright, don't get angry with the little guy."

As a result, Jiro or Hatsume would often have to act as peacemakers and coax the sulking "big kid" a bit—Mai, of course, wouldn't know how to coax her; she would only join Mio in mocking her—when Yashiro's expression changed from gloomy to sunny, Mio would sway over and poke her with her finger: "Mommy, smile. It looks good!"

"brat."

Yashiro then smiled, pinched the little girl's cheek, and, hearing the commotion beside her, turned her head and asked, "Master, are you going out?"

“Yes.” Jiro nodded and reached out to pick up the crimson spear that was leaning against the wall.

Noticing this movement, Yashiro suddenly realized: "Another patrol?"

"Yes... things have been a bit chaotic around here lately, and I'm worried something might happen in the nearby villages."

Jiro-hoshi frowned slightly, his tone somewhat complicated.

Since Imagawa Yoshimoto's death at Okehazama, his army of tens of thousands has fallen apart overnight. Some of the lucky soldiers followed their general and retreated safely back to Suruga, while many others were not so fortunate. They were separated from the main force from the beginning. In order to avoid Oda's pursuers and the peasants and wild samurai who hunted the outlaws, most of them chose to hide in the deep mountains for a period of time, enduring hunger and thirst. Only when the situation had calmed down did they begin to return in twos and threes.

When Yoshimoto went on his expedition, the people of Suruga and Tōtōmi were still considered a group. However, by the time they returned, they had almost become bandits, with some even taking over mountain strongholds and becoming bandits themselves. They burned, killed, and looted along the way, leaving countless tragedies in their wake.

Not only the entire Ii family, but also the monks of Ryutaiji Temple, including Jiro, have been extremely busy lately, patrolling and keeping watch at night to prevent attacks on the surrounding villages and settlements. Although Buddhism is supposed to be compassionate, bloodstains from swords and spears are still inevitable.

This day was no exception.

The night was deep, around midnight. Jiro wiped a streak of blood from the tip of his spear and glanced coldly at the seven or eight corpses lying on the ground. These men, perhaps law-abiding citizens of Suruga or Tōtōmi in early May, had quickly degenerated into murderous bandits after the defeat and the loss of order and discipline.

How tragic...

Something welled up inside her, and she closed her eyes, suppressing the emotion. Then she looked up at the sky. There was no moonlight that night, only a few scattered stars twinkling faintly. Looking around, the mountains, forests, and villages, near and far, were shrouded in a hazy darkness.

"……Um?"

Suddenly realizing something, a faint sensation like needles pricking her skin, Jiro closed her eyes, her heart as still as water. At a certain moment, she suddenly slung the crimson spear in her hand behind her back. A clang of metal clashing rang out as a sharp sword suddenly thrust out, colliding with the spear before separating.

The person who drew the sword retreated backward like flowing water.

The opponent moved with incredible speed, appearing and disappearing like the wind. When Jiro opened his eyes, he only caught a glimpse of a light and narrow sword tip out of the corner of his eye, which vanished into the darkness in an instant. But that single glance was enough for him to guess the person's identity.

"Benefactor Ba Xun, what are you doing?" She placed her right hand down, pointing her spear at the ground, and asked with some confusion.

The next moment, the needle-like sensation returned. In the darkness before him, a faded, narrow-sleeved casual garment swayed in the wind, its small, slender figure half-hidden. Jiro looked up, but did not see that familiar face—the other person wore a poorly made mask.

Fire Man's mask.

“Wrong, not Benefactor Yashiro…” Holding a sword in his left hand and a crutch in his right, the figure stood a few steps away. As if through a mask, the usually soft voice sounded strangely unfamiliar. “It is—Dragon Palace Boy!”

Before the words were even finished, the man moved, and the cold blade of his sword pierced through again.

Jiro, the monk, held up his spear, and a few sparks suddenly flew in the night. She frowned, and her originally kind tone couldn't help but carry a hint of annoyance: "Benefactor Yashiro... if you continue to act recklessly, I will get angry."

However, what responded to her was an even faster and more urgent sword strike!

……

Chapter 106 The Crying Under the Moon

The night is deep, the moon hangs low on the branches, eliciting a hoarse cry of crows.

Jiro held his spear upside down, the tip still damp with blood, its veins snaking like snakes, which, against the crimson shaft, resembled a flickering flame. Her plain white monk's robe was also stained with blood; the woman herself was unharmed, the bloodstains coming from the corpses at her feet.

These people may have been farmers, soldiers, husbands, fathers, sons... just ordinary people, but when they harbor evil intentions and intend to attack villages, plunder supplies, or even people, these past identities become insignificant.

"..."

Even the most despicable are still living beings.

Killing is a sin, and this sin weighed heavily on the woman's heart. Her compassionate gaze swept over the dead bodies, then returned to the darkness not far away—where she saw a fleeting figure, moving swiftly like the wind, disappearing in an instant.

The next second, a cold wind hit my face!

Jiro remained motionless, his vermilion spear swiftly parrying the long, narrow sword that pierced the night. He frowned, staring at the familiar fire-man mask, his tone turning slightly cold: "Third time's the charm. This is the last time. Hachishiro... don't push me to my limit."

A soft laugh suddenly came from under the mask. The laugh was no different from usual, but it sounded a little muffled because it was covered by the mask.

Jiro had expected at least a response, but before the soft chuckle could even register, the figure spun around like a top, then suddenly lunged at her from behind, sword and all—

"enough!"

Despite three consecutive reminders and warnings, the other party not only did not stop, but intensified their actions. Finally, a hint of anger flashed across Jiro's face. He no longer held back and swept his spear out with a whooshing sound!

She was exceptionally gifted from a young age. Although she was a girl, she was much stronger than the average man. When they were playing and roughhousing as children, she could easily beat up more than a dozen boys by herself. No mischievous kid in the surrounding area was afraid of her. As she grew older, she studied martial arts under Zen Master Nanxi. Her skills emphasized using brute force to overcome skill, making her incomparably fierce and powerful.

Jiro-hoshi is gentle and dislikes fighting. Even when fighting to the death with an enemy, she usually holds back. In addition, she has never encountered an opponent who requires her to go all out. Often, she only needs to use five or even three-tenths of her strength to beat the enemy bloody.

Even now, having just killed several villains and still radiating murderous intent, Jiro was caught off guard by Yashiro's inexplicable attack. Despite his good temper, Jiro couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. His attack with the crimson spear was already at six or seven tenths of its power. The howling wind sounded like a thunderclap suddenly erupting from the ground!

"it is good!"

Another soft laugh rang out, and the "Dragon Palace Boy" suddenly shrank, shrinking into a tiny ball. Using the wind as cover, he somersaulted away, causing the woman's spear to miss its mark. In an instant, he flipped back, his body, weighing only a few dozen pounds, floating as lightly as a falling leaf, landing on the tip of the crimson spear!

"Go down!"

Jiro shouted and swung his spear twice. Seeing that the man seemed to be stuck to the spear, he swayed left and right but couldn't shake him off. Suddenly, he exerted force in his arm, his muscles tensed, and he raised the spear high and slammed it down hard on the ground!

The moment the attack landed, it felt as if the entire earth shook twice. Yashiro had already retreated ahead of time. While still in mid-air, she suddenly raised her right hand, and a beam of light, as fast as a shooting star, rushed straight towards her face!

Snapped!

Seeing the fierce light approaching, whether she tried to dodge or parry with her gun, it seemed too late. So Jiro simply raised his hand, spread his fingers, and caught the mysterious hidden weapon directly in his palm. In the dim light of the night, and with Yashiro's incredibly fast movements, she didn't even see what the other party had thrown. If it had been a shuriken or kunai, which the other party usually used, her entire palm would have been pierced through.

But when the hidden weapon landed in his palm, he only felt a dull pain.

That was a Yongle Tongbao coin.

At the same time, Yashiro had already gracefully landed back on the ground, and with a flick of her wrist, she put her longsword into her cane.

Less than ten steps apart, they seemed to be entangled and rising steadily, as if some invisible force was intertwined with each other.

This was not the first time the two of them had clashed.

Leaving aside their "surprising" first encounter six years ago, since Yashiro settled in Tōtōmi, they have spent more time together. Both of them are fond of martial arts, so they inevitably spar with each other from time to time. However, they usually stop before a winner is decided.

Therefore, although Jiro had long known that Yashiro was exceptionally strong, he had always lacked a clear understanding of it. Until this moment, he still didn't know what had gotten into the other party, who suddenly appeared wearing a mask and saying something like "not Yashiro, but Ryugu Doji"... To be honest, this was the first time Jiro had ever heard such a perfunctory excuse, and he even felt a little dumbfounded.

She recognized the mask; there was a small chip on the edge, something Mai had accidentally knocked off... In other words, either Yashiro secretly stole the mask, or this whole thing was planned by her and Mai. Perhaps even Hatsume was involved... Why?

She never sensed any killing intent from Yashiro, and Jiro didn't think she wanted to kill him at all. However, each move he made was clearly more ruthless than their usual sparring, which stirred up the killing intent that hadn't faded in her heart, and she accidentally struck him hard.

Recalling the attacks just now, Jiro felt a chill run down her spine. Thankfully, none of them hit; otherwise… just thinking about it made her shudder with fear. No, no matter what the opponent was planning, this fight couldn't continue…

"Eight……"

Just as he was about to call for a halt, suddenly, Master Jiro's eyes narrowed—