The horse-drawn carriage left Mizuhara when the sun had already begun its descent toward the west.
The wheels rolled steadily along the road, occasionally jolting over rough patches of earth. Kurose Chiyo leaned against the side of the carriage, her eyes half closed, though her brows remained faintly furrowed. When they arrived at Takamine Martial Arts Dojo, she had still been busy wondering whether Munetaka would be accepted by Takanori. Now that everything had gone more smoothly than expected, a hollow space had instead opened in her heart.
Munetaka had never truly been away from her for so long.
Chiyo knew that staying at Takamine was a good thing for him. Her older brother was there, the dojo had clear rules, and no matter how grueling the training was, it would not leave a seven-year-old child to fend for himself. But understanding something rationally was one thing. Thinking about how the house would be missing her son's running footsteps tonight was another.
Would he eat his fill?
Would he sleep comfortably in an unfamiliar place?
And would a hot-tempered child like Munetaka be able to get along with the other students?
Nobumasa had watched her for a long while from across the carriage before finally saying, “Takanori agreed to look after him. As long as Munetaka is willing to listen, nothing serious should happen.”
Chiyo opened her eyes and let out a quiet breath. “I know.”
“If you know that, then why have you looked out the carriage window countless times since we left the dojo?”
Chiyo had been seen through. She stayed silent for a while before answering, “This is the first time he hasn’t slept at home.”
Nobumasa understood and did not tease her further. He poured her some water, then said slowly, “If he wants to learn martial arts, he’ll have to get used to things like this sooner or later. At home, someone reminds him to eat and sleep, and someone is there to catch him whenever he falls. No one at the dojo will indulge him like that. If he can’t endure the first step, it’ll be even harder for him to go far later on.”
Chiyo gave a slight nod, but the worry had not completely faded from her expression.
Nobumasa continued, “Once he’s gotten used to life at Takamine, we’ll go visit him. If he’s lost too much weight by then, or truly isn’t suited to it, we’ll still have time to reconsider.”
Those words finally made Chiyo feel a little better.
She was not someone who failed to understand priorities. She had been the one to visit Takamine and ask Takanori about it the other day, and she had been the one to agree to let her son try martial arts if he had the aptitude. It was just that having to truly leave Munetaka behind those gates felt entirely different from discussing it at home.
The two of them did not bring it up again.
By the time the carriage returned to Kawase, dusk was close at hand. Sakuma Genbei drove straight into the Kurose estate, and the moment Chiyo stepped down, she instinctively looked toward the yard where Munetaka usually ran and played. With only one child missing, the entire yard seemed far quieter than usual.
Whether Genbei had guessed his mistress's mood or Nobumasa had instructed the kitchen to prepare carefully before leaving home, that evening's dinner was more abundant than usual. Alongside the vegetables and soup was a large platter of soy-braised pork belly, the thickened sauce coating pieces of meat so tender that they nearly fell apart at the touch of chopsticks.
For the past few days, Nobumasa had been constantly running between changing cultivation methods, attempting to cultivate, and arranging for Munetaka to enter the dojo. It was only after sitting down and seeing the steaming food that he realized how hungry he truly was. He ate several pieces of meat in quick succession before slowing down, picked out a piece with both lean meat and fat for Chiyo, then ladled more gravy over Shizuru's rice.
“Eat a little more. You still need to recover.”
Shizuru had given birth to twins not long ago. Her complexion was better than it had been during the first few days, but a close look still revealed traces of exhaustion. She gave a slight nod without being shy around her husband, simply pulling her bowl closer and eating each bite slowly.
The atmosphere at the table gradually grew lighter.
Ieharu was still little and did not understand why there was more food than usual today despite his older brother being absent. He only knew that the meat was delicious, so he ate until both cheeks bulged, forcing Chiyo to remind him several times not to stuff his mouth so full. Fumino and Takehisa were still too young to sit at the table and were being cared for in the adjoining room. Every so often, a few thin, newborn cries drifted over.
It was then that Nobumasa remembered something.
He set down his bowl and said to Chiyo, “Tomorrow, have Genbei ask around Kawase which households are raising nanny goats with milk. If he can buy one, then buy one. Otherwise, arrange to have fresh milk delivered every day.”
Chiyo blinked. “Buy goat's milk?”
Nobumasa nodded. “Shizuru doesn’t have enough milk for both babies by herself. Thin porridge will only work as a temporary measure. We can’t rely on it for long.”
At that, Shizuru lowered her eyes slightly. The lack of milk had made her feel somewhat guilty these past few days, but giving birth to two children at once had already taken a great deal out of her. There was no forcing her body to recover faster than it could.
Chiyo understood that. It was just that hearing about yet another expense made her instinctively begin calculating in her head.
“We only just paid a large sum to Takamine today. Goat’s milk isn’t cheap in Kawase, and if we buy it fresh every day, it’ll add up to quite a bit each month.”
Nobumasa knew from her expression that Chiyo had started calculating every household expense again. The years when the Kurose clan had been struggling had left too deep a habit. Even now, with the Amasuzu orchards providing a steady source of income for the clan, she still instinctively looked at an expense the way she had years ago.
He smiled, set down his chopsticks, and tilted his head slightly toward the storage room deep within the estate.
“Don’t worry so much. Our family isn’t so poor that we have to ration milk for two children.”
Chiyo followed his gaze.
The Kurose storage room remained locked year-round, and only Nobumasa and Genbei were allowed to handle its key. Besides money reserved for emergencies, it contained a number of old items left behind by earlier generations. No one knew how much value some of them still held, along with a small amount of gold bullion and several antiques the clan had never taken out to sell.
The Thousand-Leaf Family Hall in Nobumasa’s sea of consciousness had also originated from an antique that had once lain dormant in that storeroom.
Chiyo did not know this secret, but she knew that the Kurose clan still had a way out.
Nobumasa lowered his voice. “The payment to Takamine was already included in the calculations. We can’t cut the milk for Fumino and Takehisa either. Money stored away is ultimately meant to be used when it’s needed. Don’t let saving a few coins shortchange the children.”
Chiyo was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Then I’ll have Genbei ask around tomorrow.”
She said nothing more.
Dinner continued in a fairly peaceful atmosphere. Munetaka’s absence still made Chiyo space out from time to time, but the cries of the twins and Ieharu eating until sauce smeared the area around his mouth quickly pulled her back to the matters at hand.
In the days that followed, Nobumasa’s life gradually settled into a new routine.
He still went out early each morning as before. Sometimes he went to the Amasuzu-growing hills to inspect the fruit. Other times he crossed the Kurose farmland to check on the work, meeting with the people in charge of each plot and asking about all the matters that needed to be resolved. Amasuzu had begun entering the final stage before the autumn harvest, and the color of the fruit on its heavily laden branches could be seen changing day by day. In another half month, if the weather did not present any major problems, a new harvest season would begin.
Nobumasa did not abandon the things that had supported Kurose for so many years simply because he possessed the Thousand-Leaf Family Hall or a cultivation method.
The immortal path might be the future.
But the farmland and Amasuzu were what paid for today’s meals, the children’s milk, and Munetaka’s place at Takamine Martial Arts Dojo.
By midday, Nobumasa usually returned home.
He tried to eat with Chiyo, Shizuru, and the children whenever he did not have something urgent to handle outside. Munetaka no longer sat in his usual place, which made the first few meals feel somewhat unusual, but Ieharu quickly filled most of that silence with all sorts of trivial childhood chatter. Fumino and Takehisa were growing stronger by the day as well, and the goat’s milk Genbei had found from a livestock-raising household near Kawase had significantly eased the strain of caring for them.
After eating, Nobumasa would return to his study.
That was the time he devoted to the Scarlet Breath Qi-Guiding Method.
He closed the door, sat upright on his cushion, and regulated his breathing according to the rhythm recorded in the method. He had memorized the opening steps so thoroughly that he no longer needed to consult the copy. His breathing gradually slowed, distracting thoughts were forced down, and his awareness focused on the Fire Spirit Root within his body as he searched for the vague sensation described by the cultivation method.
The qi between heaven and earth.
Nobumasa searched every day.
There was nothing on the first day.
Nothing on the second, either.
After several more days, the clearest sensations he could perceive were still the numbness in his legs from sitting too long and the dull ache in his back.
There were times when he thought he had touched some unusual sensation. A thread of warmth might sweep across his abdomen, or the area where his mind was focused might give the faintest tremor. But the moment he tried to seize it, everything vanished again. After experiencing this many times, Nobumasa gradually learned not to mistake every sensation in his body for spiritual qi.
He recorded each attempt in a notebook.
The time.
His breathing rhythm.
The condition of his body.
Any noteworthy sensations.
Then he continued trying again the next day.
Nobumasa did not know that his slow progress was not entirely due to mistakes on his part.
Kawase lay amid the settlements of ordinary people, and the spiritual qi in heaven and earth was so thin that ordinary people could live their entire lives without sensing it. Places such as a cultivator’s mountain gate, an immortal clan’s spiritual land, or an area covered by a spirit-gathering formation had entirely different concentrations of spiritual qi. A person with Triple Spirit Roots like Nobumasa, whose aptitude in each branch was unremarkable, might have found his first faint sense of it within a few days or weeks if he had been placed in such an environment.
But in Kawase, he had to find a stream of water in land that was nearly parched.
Taking several months without crossing the first threshold was what should be considered normal.
Nobumasa did not know that.
He only knew that he had a spirit root and a cultivation method, so the only thing left to do was continue.
While he sat day after day before the threshold of the immortal path, trouble outside Kawase refused to remain still.
Lake Fukamizu to the west was increasingly becoming a name people in the region avoided mentioning after dark.
The Kawase steward repeatedly sent people to issue warnings throughout the surrounding settlements. At first, a young man from a nearby area had been dragged underwater by a crocodile. Then someone else had been bitten while approaching the shore to fish, followed by another person who disappeared in the shallows. Most frightening of all, one crocodile had begun leaving its familiar deep-water territory, crawling to the place where local women usually washed clothes and attacking in broad daylight.
The woman had been lucky enough to be pulled out in time and survived, but her leg had been badly injured.
The news left all of Kawase genuinely uneasy.
Families who had once thought it was enough to avoid deep water no longer dared let their children near any stretch of bank connected to Lake Fukamizu. After dusk, the western road was nearly deserted. Even longtime fishermen began abandoning the area, preferring to lose part of their income rather than gamble with their lives.
Nobumasa listened as Genbei reported each incident.
He maintained the order forbidding Kurose workers from approaching the lake, but did nothing more beyond that. The crocodiles had lived in Fukamizu for more than a day or two. If the local authorities had no way to deal with them, a small clan like Kurose had even less reason to rush in recklessly.
The days continued to pass.
One evening, another platter of stir-fried meat appeared at the Kurose dinner table.
Chiyo stared at the dish for a long while. She had said nothing during the first few days, but today she finally set down her bowl.
“Nobumasa.”
He was eating. Hearing her voice, he looked up. “What is it?”
Chiyo hesitated, her eyes falling first on the platter of meat before shifting to Shizuru.
“We’ve had meat in the house every day lately.”
Nobumasa immediately understood what she meant, but still asked, “Is that a problem?”
“It’s not that we can’t eat it.” Chiyo chose her words carefully. “We just paid for Munetaka to stay at Takamine a few days ago, and there’s also the goat’s milk for the children. If we keep spending like this, the surplus for this month will fall short by quite a bit.”
She paused there.
Shizuru slowed down as she ate.
Chiyo noticed but did not take back her words. She managed most of the household’s daily expenses, and there were some things she could not leave unsaid simply because she felt awkward.
“I know Shizuru needs nourishment after giving birth. But when I gave birth to Munetaka, we didn’t eat meat every day either.”
The atmosphere at the table immediately shifted.
Shizuru set down her chopsticks, but before she could say anything, Nobumasa spoke first.
“Chiyo.”
His voice was not harsh, but it was enough to make her look back at him.
Nobumasa set down his bowl and said, “What was Kurose like when you gave birth to Munetaka?”
Chiyo fell silent.
That year, the Kurose clan had only recently passed through the worst of its difficulties. Every coin had to be turned toward the farmland, and there had been very little in the storeroom that could actually be used. Having meat added to one meal had been considered a luxury, let alone anything like their current circumstances.
Nobumasa continued, “Amasuzu now provides a stable income every year. The new harvest will begin in only half a month. Our circumstances aren’t the same as when Munetaka was born, so why does the way we eat have to remain the same?”
He looked toward Shizuru, then back to Chiyo.
“Besides, this time it’s twins. Giving birth to two children at once takes a greater toll on the body. If we have the money but still make everyone in the house nourish themselves as if we were in our poorest years, then what are we earning money for?”
By then, Chiyo knew she could not argue.
She had never truly wanted to cut back on Shizuru’s food. What bothered her was seeing the household expenses rise continuously over such a short period, along with the feeling that Nobumasa had been paying particular attention to the new mother’s meals these past few days.
Reason and emotion did not always travel the same road.
Seeing her expression, Nobumasa softened his voice as well.
“I know you’re worried about the household finances. There’s nothing wrong with that. But the things that need to be paid for should be paid for. Munetaka’s martial arts training costs money, Fumino and Takehisa need milk, and Shizuru needs to recover. None of those expenses can be cut.”
Chiyo finally replied softly, “I’m just afraid you’ll see that there’s still money in the storeroom and start spending recklessly.”
“I still know what I’m doing.”
As he spoke, Nobumasa reached out with his chopsticks and picked up another piece of meat.
Chiyo watched the movement. After a moment, she shot him a look that was difficult to describe.
Nobumasa froze.
He lowered his head to look at the meat in his bowl, then remembered that over the past few days, the person eating most enthusiastically did not seem to be Shizuru.
Chiyo did not need to say it aloud. Her eyes made it perfectly clear.
Nobumasa coughed lightly and lowered his head to continue eating, pretending he had seen nothing.
Shizuru held it in for a moment before finally laughing. Chiyo could not maintain her initial solemn expression either, and the corners of her lips curved upward. The tension that had formed at the dinner table dissolved along with it.
Nobumasa could only sigh inwardly.
Having a cultivation method did not guarantee that he could sense spiritual qi.
Having money did not mean he could spend it however he pleased.
And having a clan certainly did not mean that protecting its farmland, guarding its storeroom, and thinking about the future would be enough.
Besides finding a way to step onto the immortal path, he also had to worry about one son learning martial arts far away, one child growing up at home, two newborns, one wife who had yet to grow accustomed to having her son away from her, and another wife who was still recovering from childbirth.
Compared with the things written in the Scarlet Breath Qi-Guiding Method, none of these matters came with a mantra to follow.
But Nobumasa did not find them troublesome.
If Kurose was to become a clan capable of going farther than a single lifetime, then this household first had to truly make it through each day.