The carriage left Kawase's main road, followed the hillside for nearly half an hour, and finally stopped at the edge of the Amasuzu orchard.
The moment Nobumasa stepped down, he caught the mingled scents of damp earth, fresh grass, and unripe fruit. Before him, rows of pear trees spread across the slope in layers, their canopies running all the way to the distant forest's edge. Late summer was not harvest season yet, but countless fist-sized fruits were already visible among the leaves, their green skins gradually turning pale yellow.
Unless the weather took a sharp turn, this year would bring a good harvest.
More than a dozen people were scattered throughout the orchard at work. One group used long-handled shears to clear the dense branches inside the canopies. Another pulled weeds around the trunks. Farther away, workers carried fully decomposed compost to each section of trees. None of those tasks were glamorous, but Nobumasa knew very well that neglecting even one or two steps at the wrong time would mean paying the price in real money when harvest season arrived.
The first person to notice him was Matsuda Gensuke.
The man was over fifty, his skin darkened by the sun, his large hands rough as tree roots. The Matsuda family had lived around Kurose land for three generations. Since Gensuke's grandfather's time, they had worked in the clan's orchards and fields. In Gensuke's generation, although he was still technically a hired worker, he was in practice the one coordinating much of the work at the Amasuzu orchard.
Gensuke set down his shears and walked over.
“The head of the household came at just the right time. The fruit's coming along nicely this year.”
Nobumasa did not answer at once. He walked to the nearest tree, lifted a branch bearing five or six pears, and carefully examined their size, the color of the leaves, and the spacing between the fruit. Only after a while did he nod.
“They're more uniform than last year.”
Gensuke smiled, his delight plain to see.
“There was little rain during flowering, followed by several stretches of bright sun. We used the Flower-Attracting Mixture at the right time, so the fruit set is excellent. The southern sections are even better than this one.”
The two of them talked as they went deeper into the orchard. Gensuke reported the condition of each section in turn, from the number of weedings and the amount of compost used to which trees needed attention because their canopies were too dense or the soil drained poorly. Nobumasa did more than listen; he occasionally stopped to inspect things himself. At one tree, he broke off a pinch of soil and squeezed it between his fingers to check its moisture. In another spot, he crouched to examine the undersides of the leaves for insect traces. Now and then, he lifted a pear to check for russeting or signs of nutrient deficiency.
The workers nearby were used to seeing this.
Nobumasa was not the kind of landowner who showed up only before harvest to ask how much money they would make. Since he was in his teens, he had worked in the orchards himself. Many of the current procedures were ones he had tested and refined year after year.
Gensuke pointed toward a stand of trees to the east.
“We added another round of fertilizer three days ago. The soil there is thin. If we kept the amount the same as in the middle section, we were afraid the fruit would stay small.”
“That was the right call.”
Nobumasa studied the canopy before continuing. “But next time, reduce it for the two rows near the foot of the slope. More water collects there. If you fertilize too heavily, the trees may put all their energy into leaves.”
Gensuke committed the instruction to memory at once.
A little farther on, Nobumasa stopped before a tree with many branches growing inward.
“Cut this branch.”
A worker standing nearby hesitated slightly. “There are several beautiful pears on it.”
“Keeping those pears will leave the whole canopy short of light. Cutting it is better than letting the tree weaken next season.”
The worker immediately understood and raised his shears to follow the instruction.
Gensuke watched and smiled. “The youngsters who just started are always reluctant to cut branches with fruit on them. It takes a few seasons for them to understand that more fruit doesn't necessarily mean more money.”
Nobumasa smiled faintly as well.
“People are the same. If you want to hold on to everything, you may end up unable to keep what matters most.”
Gensuke did not fully understand what he meant and assumed the head of the household was still talking about trees.
Nobumasa, meanwhile, thought back to his earlier conversation with Makino Shigeyoshi.
The Amasuzu technique had once been something he did not want to share with anyone. But today, he was ready to trade part of it for a cultivation method.
Not because the orchard had become less valuable.
On the contrary, it was precisely because he understood its value so well that he knew what he was bringing to the negotiating table carried enough weight.
After completing a wide circuit, Nobumasa asked about the Flower-Attracting Mixture again.
Gensuke immediately led him to the tool shed. Inside a wooden box were several bags of ingredients, already portioned for use. Fine mineral powder served as a carrier, a little sugar helped attract insects, and a very small amount of borate mineral was mixed in according to a fixed ratio. None of the individual ingredients was mysterious, but when used at the right time and in the right dosage, their effect on the pollination rate was obvious.
During the early years, Nobumasa had spent considerable effort finding a stable source of ingredients. The most difficult was finding borate mineral pure enough to use. He had once sent people through several towns, asking at both apothecaries and mineral shops before finding a usable grade.
Once the process stabilized, he no longer mixed every batch himself. Even so, only a few people knew the exact ratio.
Gensuke put the box away again, sounding somewhat wistful.
“It doesn't look worth much, but without it, the Hasebe clan planted the same variety as us last year and still ended the season well behind.”
Nobumasa replied, “That's why you mustn't underestimate small things. A clan survives for generations because countless small matters add up.”
Gensuke nodded. To him, those words were easy to understand.
The Matsuda family had worked for Kurose for three generations, so Gensuke knew better than most how different a clan's prosperity and decline could be. The land was the same land, and the people were the same people, but if the head of the household did not know how to maintain the granary stores, care for the irrigation ditches, or manage the workers, a few years were enough to make even a great family fortune riddled with holes.
Nobumasa also understood why people like Gensuke were worth keeping.
Kurose paid its long-serving labor households more than the prevailing rate around Kawase. During the busy season, they also received bonuses, and their food was better than usual. On major holidays, the main house generally distributed extra cloth, oil, or a portion of grain, depending on the year.
Some outsiders had once said he was wasting money.
But Nobumasa had never seen it that way.
A person who knew exactly when to prune a branch, could tell what a tree lacked from the color of its leaves, and knew where to open channels when heavy rain came was worth far more than a few coins saved on wages.
A plot of land did not generate money on its own.
The people who made it generate money were the foundation.
By the time the afternoon light began to change, Nobumasa had finished inspecting the final section. Gensuke estimated that unless a major storm or unusual pest outbreak struck, this year's harvest would be at least thirty percent higher than last year's, and might exceed that by even more.
The workers nearby were all encouraged by the news.
A good harvest meant the head of the household would profit, and Kurose had never forgotten to reward them for a good season over the years.
Nobumasa did not promise any specific figure in advance. He only told Gensuke to continue following the established procedures, especially not to overfertilize just because the trees were bearing heavily. Before getting back into the carriage, he turned and looked over the entire hillside one more time.
The rows of Amasuzu stretched beneath the evening light.
This was the greatest worldly foundation he had built with his own hands.
Tomorrow, part of the knowledge that had made the orchard what it was would be put up for trade.
By the time the carriage returned to the Kurose residence, it was nearly dark.
The moment Nobumasa passed through the gate, he saw a servant standing near the eastern room. Shizuru was being helped to sit on the veranda by a young woman, with an extra light coat draped over her shoulders. She had only been sitting for a short while, but her face was already beginning to pale.
Nobumasa immediately frowned and walked over.
“It's only the second day. What are you doing out here?”
Shizuru looked at him with a slightly helpless expression.
“Lying in the room all day is suffocating. I just wanted to sit for a while.”
“Even sitting for a while means knowing your own limits.”
He reached out to support her arm. He did not scold her further, but his tone clearly left no room for negotiation. Shizuru knew she had pushed herself a little, so she obediently leaned against him and returned to the room.
After sitting down on the bed, she breathed slowly for a while before settling down.
Nobumasa pulled the blanket over her.
“If you want to go outside tomorrow, have Tome check you first. Don't decide you're fine just because you feel a little better.”
Shizuru smiled weakly.
“I know.”
“You know, and you still did it.”
“Being cooped up in the room all day really is stifling.”
Nobumasa looked at her for a moment, then let the matter go. He turned to look at the two children lying beside each other. Fumino was still sleeping soundly, while Takehisa had gained a little color in his face today, easing the tension in Nobumasa's heart considerably.
“Have dinner served here.”
Shizuru looked slightly surprised.
“What about Chiyo?”
“Call her over too. The whole family can eat here and avoid unnecessary walking.”
Before long, a low table was set in the outer room of Shizuru's quarters. The food was still fairly light, but there was steamed fish and a bowl of restorative soup reserved for the woman who had just given birth. Chiyo arrived a little later. Seeing Shizuru propped against her pillows, she only reminded her not to get out of bed too soon before sitting beside Nobumasa.
Munetaka and Ieharu were there as well.
Neither caused any trouble today, but Munetaka was clearly restless. He had barely started eating before changing positions several times, his eyes repeatedly darting toward the window as if something outside were more interesting than dinner.
Nobumasa watched him for a while, then set down his chopsticks.
“Munetaka.”
The boy immediately sat straight.
“Yes, Father.”
“You're seven years old now.”
Munetaka blinked, unable to understand why his father had suddenly brought up his age.
Nobumasa continued, “You can't spend all day running around the yard. It's time to take your studies more seriously.”
The boy's face immediately fell.
“Father, I do study characters.”
“Recognizing a few hundred characters doesn't count as studying.”
Munetaka turned to Shizuru for help. Most of the characters he knew had been taught by her, and Shizuru rarely forced him to sit for very long.
“I don't like studying long things. I get sleepy after reading for a while.”
Chiyo immediately frowned.
“Whether you like it or not, you have to study.”
Munetaka lowered his head even farther.
Nobumasa did not scold him. He looked at his son and asked, “If you don't read, what do you like doing?”
The boy's head shot up.
“I like running, climbing trees, and shooting stones. I want to learn swordsmanship too.”
“Have you ever held a sword?”
“A wooden one.”
“Whose?”
Munetaka looked a little guilty.
“Ishida from the street lent it to me.”
Ieharu, who was eating, immediately cut in. “You broke it.”
Munetaka turned to his brother.
“I didn't break it. It was already about to break.”
Nobumasa rubbed his forehead, but he did not scold him this time. He turned to Shizuru.
“You've taught him longer than I have. What do you think?”
Shizuru thought for a long time before answering.
“Munetaka isn't stupid. The things he truly wants to remember, he remembers very quickly. But keeping him seated and reading for long periods really is difficult.”
She looked at the boy, her voice still gentle.
“His physique is also better than that of children his age. I used to think that if he truly wasn't suited to an academic path, he could try learning martial arts later.”
At the words “learning martial arts,” Munetaka's eyes lit up.
Chiyo did not object immediately either.
She studied the child for a while, then said to Nobumasa, “If he truly wants to try, my mother's family can make inquiries.”
Nobumasa turned to her.
“Your brother?”
Chiyo nodded.
“My eldest brother is now an instructor at Takamine Dojo. A few years ago, he reached the peak of the Postnatal Realm, so he has some reputation even in central Mizuhara. The two boys from our family are both currently training under him.”
Nobumasa had heard her mention Miyake Takanori before, but he had never considered sending his son there to study.
“What would it cost?”
Chiyo hesitated before answering. “It isn't cheap. Even a new student needs to eat better than usual. If he really wants to temper his physique, there are also medicinal baths, liniments, and training equipment. The Miyake family isn't short on food or clothing, but even raising two children in the martial path is expensive.”
Munetaka sat beside them, understanding little of what they were saying. He had only heard that he might get to learn martial arts, and he looked at his father full of anticipation.
Nobumasa did not answer immediately.
In the past, he might have deliberated for a very long time.
Raising a child in martial training was not merely a matter of tuition. Meat, medicine, time, escorts, injuries—everything cost money. Moreover, no one could guarantee that Munetaka truly had the talent for it.
But Nobumasa saw the matter differently now.
Munetaka's constitution had been tested at five or six years old.
He had no spirit root.
Without the Thousand-Leaf Family Hall, it was nearly certain that he would spend his entire life in the worldly realm. But eight years later, when he turned fifteen, the Harmonized Fate Root-Nurturing Method would still give him another chance.
Ten percent.
Compared with the vanishingly rare chance of immortal affinity among ordinary people, ten percent was terrifyingly high.
But ten percent still meant a ninety-percent chance of failure.
Nobumasa could not make his son waste eight years waiting simply because that opportunity existed.
If Munetaka was suited to martial arts, then let him follow the martial path.
If he developed a spirit root in the future, martial training would not necessarily be useless either.
“There's no need to decide right away.”
Nobumasa finally spoke.
Munetaka, who had been excited, immediately grew anxious.
“Father.”
“I said there's no need to decide right away, not that I won't let you learn.”
He looked at Chiyo.
“Go to the Miyake family tomorrow. Ask Takanori what a seven-year-old needs to be tested on to enter, how much the tuition is, what the medicinal baths cost, and whether the dojo accepts outsiders.”
Chiyo nodded immediately.
Nobumasa looked back at Munetaka.
“And you need to let them see whether you're suited to martial training first. If they say you aren't, don't assume that wanting it will be enough.”
Munetaka thought for a moment, then asked, “If I'm suited to it, can I really learn?”
“Yes.”
He immediately grinned so broadly that his eyes narrowed.
Nobumasa tapped the table lightly.
“But you still have to study characters.”
Munetaka's smile froze.
Shizuru turned her face away, clearly holding back laughter.
Nobumasa said, “Learning martial arts doesn't mean you can be illiterate. At the very least, you need to know accounts, letters, and basic rules. Whatever you do in the future, you'll need them.”
Munetaka had nowhere left to retreat, so he could only nod.
“I understand.”
Dinner continued in a lighter atmosphere. Nobumasa did not force his son to become a scholar, nor did he assume that martial training was the final road he had to take. To him, the most important thing was to see each child as a different person.
The clan needed descendants.
But not every descendant had to become the same kind of person.
That night, Nobumasa remained in Chiyo's room.
As the Harmonized Fate Root-Nurturing Method circulated, Clan Lineage Vitality continued to accumulate little by little within the Thousand-Leaf Family Hall. The three spirit roots of Fire, Wood, and Water in his body did not change, but the vitality surrounding the Spirit-Nurturing Fields and Stillbirth Pond grew very slightly denser.
Nobumasa did not try to force any more out.
He already knew his current limit.
Rather than dream of his natural spirit roots growing stronger, what he needed more than anything right now was a true cultivation method.
The next morning, Chiyo woke very early.
She changed into more formal clothes than usual, brought a few gifts, and took one of the Kurose family's small carriages toward central Mizuhara. This trip was not merely to visit her mother's family; it also concerned Munetaka's future, so she did not seem as reluctant as she usually did when returning home for formal obligations.
Nobumasa was much calmer.
He ate breakfast, checked on Shizuru and the two children, then changed clothes and went outside.
By the time the carriage stopped at the residence of Kawase's Magistrate, Makino Shigeyoshi was already waiting.
The head of the Makino household was pacing on the veranda. As soon as he saw Nobumasa step down from the carriage, he came forward, the smile on his face clearly more enthusiastic than it had been the day before.
“Nobumasa, you finally came.”
“It isn't time for our appointment yet.”
“I know. I arrived early.”
After saying that, Shigeyoshi glanced toward the document bag Genbei was carrying, his anticipation almost impossible to conceal.
Nobumasa noticed, but said nothing.
The two parties were invited into the reception room.
Kawase's Magistrate was an elderly man whose hair was more than half gray. He had certified many land transactions and contracts between the clans in the surrounding area. He did not intervene in the value of the exchange. His main role was to confirm that both parties were acting voluntarily, that the terms were clear, and that there would be a basis for resolving any disputes that arose later.
After a few pleasantries, he looked at Nobumasa and then at Shigeyoshi.
“You two wish to draw up a contract concerning agricultural techniques?”
Shigeyoshi immediately answered, “Yes.”
Nobumasa set down his teacup.
“Kurose will transfer to Makino the methods of nourishing the soil, pruning branches, tending fruit, preventing pests, and the Flower-Attracting Mixture formula currently used at the Amasuzu orchard. Kurose's propagation methods and other techniques are not part of this transaction.”
The magistrate nodded, then looked at Shigeyoshi.
“Does Makino agree?”
“We agree.”
Nobumasa continued, “After the process has been fully transferred, Kurose is responsible for explaining its use within the stated scope. However, where Makino chooses to use the methods, whom it employs, and how it organizes the work will all be left to Makino's discretion. If the yield does not meet expectations, that may not be used as grounds to hold the Kurose clan responsible.”
Shigeyoshi had heard these conditions the day before and did not object.
“Agreed.”
The magistrate asked again, “May the techniques be transferred to a third party?”
Nobumasa answered first.
“No.”
Shigeyoshi frowned slightly, but ultimately nodded.
“Makino will use them within the family.”
After both parties confirmed the main terms, the scribe seated beside them began copying them into a contract. The document was not long, but each clause was read aloud slowly before anyone put pen to paper.
Nobumasa scrutinized the restrictions on transferring the techniques in particular.
He had accepted that Makino would become a competitor in the Amasuzu market.
But that did not mean he wanted all of Mizuhara planting pear trees with Kurose's techniques a few years from now.
When the document was placed before him, Nobumasa read it from beginning to end one more time before confirming it.
Shigeyoshi was clearly more impatient.
Once the contract had been certified, he immediately looked at Genbei.
“Nobumasa, the techniques.”
Nobumasa gave a signal.
Genbei took a prepared bundle of papers from the bag and placed it on the table.
It was not Kurose's complete record.
Only the portion included in the transaction.
Shigeyoshi accepted it with both hands.
The first page covered soil treatment and compost. Next came the timing for pruning, methods for maintaining the canopy, selecting fruit, the amount of water needed during each stage, and common signs of pests and disease.
He read very quickly at first.
Then his pace grew slower and slower.
When he reached the final page, Shigeyoshi's gaze stopped.
The Flower-Attracting Mixture.
Fine mineral powder.
A small amount of sugar.
A very low proportion of borate mineral.
The mixing method.
The timing of application.
How to adjust it according to the amount of blossom.
Shigeyoshi stared at those lines for a long while.
The Makino clan had tried growing Amasuzu pears for many years.
They had bought saplings.
They had hired workers.
They had copied Kurose's pruning methods.
They had even bought fertilizer similar to Kurose's.
But they had always been missing one piece.
The trees still produced fruit.
It was simply that the fruit set was uneven, the sizes varied, and the difference became even more obvious in years with poor weather.
Now that missing link lay right before him.
Shigeyoshi looked up.
“This is it?”
Nobumasa calmly sipped his tea.
“That is one part of it.”
“Borate mineral really works on blossoms?”
“Used incorrectly, it causes harm. Used correctly, it has an effect.”
Shigeyoshi immediately bent down to reread the proportions.
The longer he looked, the harder it became to hide the astonishment on his face.
These materials were not expensive.
None of them sounded like a secret elixir.
That was precisely what made it even harder to believe.
A secret that had allowed Kurose to maintain its advantage for so many years turned out not to lie in some costly substance, but in knowing what to use, when to use it, and how much to use.
Shigeyoshi carefully folded the bundle of papers.
This time, his movements were much slower than when he had first accepted it.
“Now I understand why Makino has always been missing that one piece all these years.”
Nobumasa showed no pride.
He merely watched the documents that had changed hands.
From this day forward, part of the technique he had spent years developing no longer belonged exclusively to Kurose.
If he looked only at the immediate situation, this was certainly a loss.
But the contract had been signed.
The portion Kurose was meant to receive had not yet appeared.
Nobumasa shifted his gaze to Shigeyoshi.
The head of the Makino household understood at once.
The smile slowly faded from his face.
The exchange of worldly agricultural techniques was complete.
Next came the thing that had truly brought Nobumasa here.
A relic left behind many generations ago by a cultivator of the Makino clan.