Chapter 144: The Sickly Ghost In The Coming-of-age Ceremony, This Is A True Liege!
What does this mean?
You deliberately said half of it, teasing my appetite, right?
Shangshan Che pondered for a moment but couldn’t figure anything out from the existing clues.
So he opened the lid of the tea can filled with a large amount of matcha, stretched the small tea scoop into it, and mercilessly dumped a big spoonful of matcha into his own tea bowl.
—I like not making things clear, watch me guzzle your family’s matcha!
—Actually, Shangshan Che just wanted to test if the slight increase in his willpower attribute earlier was due to this matcha, or because the person who brewed the tea was “Ii Naomasa”.
Shiraishi, sitting beside him, had his mouth open.
He hadn’t even finished his first bowl when he saw his own boss wordlessly mix another bowl full of froth and gulp it down like a cow drinking.
Thinking that if it’s there, might as well drink it, Shiraishi also gulped down the slightly hot thick tea in one go, his eyes uncontrollably brightening for a moment.
For someone like him who rarely ate flavorful food year-round and whose mouth was bland enough to fade a bird.
This delicious thick tea was practically a one-of-a-kind beverage that instantly restored a massive amount of his san value!
But after finishing, Shiraishi still vigilantly scanned the surroundings, then hurriedly leaned to Shangshan Che’s ear and whispered,
“Boss, she deliberately left us two here, what if later she smashes a cup as a signal, then a bunch of samurai rush in and chop off our hands and feet to play with us as toys?”
Shiraishi shuddered with a chill: “I always feel like the samurai we just met were looking at me with off vibes…”
I don’t have that feeling at all.
After hearing this, Shangshan Che glanced at Shiraishi’s tattered clothes, pants, straw sandals, and hair that was no different from a mess of weeds.
He figured that was probably the issue.
Shangshan Che smacked his lips, confirmed this matcha had no magical effects, put down the tea bowl, and wiped it clean with the cloth placed nearby,
“You’re overthinking it, Shiraishi.”
“Boss, this isn’t overthinking.” Shiraishi grabbed his sleeve with hands he had deliberately wiped clean, swallowed, and said, “Because I’ve been through something like this before.”
As if afraid Shangshan Che wouldn’t believe him, Shiraishi hurriedly whispered his experience in detail.
Shiraishi explained in great detail, as if these events had happened just yesterday.
Simply put, a long time ago in a winter, he and a few childhood friends had just graduated from a remote small village in Iga Province（actually because there were no extra rations to feed them）.
Shiraishi and the others wanted to rely on their learned skills to beg for a living in the city, so they brought sparse rations and a few dozen coins, traveled together, and arrived in the nearest big city.
Unfortunately, reality was harsh.
Though luckily they didn’t encounter robbers on the road, they ran into pickpockets who stealthily stole all their money.
After persisting for over half a month, their rations were long gone, and the method of begging with their so-called skills failed due to various compounding factors.
If it continued like this, they would all freeze or starve to death on the streets.
The only remaining option was to have the two decent-looking girls among them go to the Whale House to earn some quick cash to survive the winter.
And just then, a passing noble miss happened to discover them.
Shiraishi paused here and asked, “Boss, guess what happened next?”
Shangshan Che recalled what Shiraishi had just said and answered, “She found you guys an eyesore and had her samurai guards chop you all up directly.”
“No.”
Shiraishi shook his head.
His eyes glazed over, as if back in that winter without a trace of warmth from the sun: “She smilingly took us all back to her own residence, personally provided food, and gave us a place to stay.”
“Kind almost like a deity.”
“Then isn’t that pretty good?” Shangshan Che was somewhat puzzled why Shiraishi was telling this story, “You survived that winter because of that miss, right?”
“In a sense, yes.”
Shiraishi vigilantly eyed every passing figure outside the door, then continued whispering,
“But boss, don’t you think it’s too abnormal? We were just roadside scum and wild dogs, what right did we have to such treatment?”
Shangshan Che silently turned his head and met eyes with Shiraishi, who was clutching his robe corner tightly.
“Boss, you know I’m the type who can’t stay idle, so even after being taken in, I always wanted to go out wandering.”
Shiraishi said hoarsely: “So I survived.”
“But my brothers and sisters, I saw them one by one tied up and dragged away by burly samurai, then used as ‘a new batch of toys’ by that noble miss to toy with at will.”
Shiraishi stared fixedly into Shangshan Che’s eyes: “Her methods were far more cruel and vile than you can imagine, boss.”
Such a thing actually happened?
One could only say… as expected of the Sengoku Period, this man-eating chaotic era.
Shangshan Che narrowed his eyes.
If Shiraishi had personally experienced such a thing, his current worries were indeed reasonable.
Shiraishi lowered his head: “I just feel… this guy pretending to be Ii Naomasa is too nice to us, nice to an abnormal degree.”
He silently fiddled with his tea bowl with a finger: “I don’t want a decent boss like you to die inexplicably, so I reminded you.”
“No need to worry about that.”
Shangshan Che shook his head.
Meeting Shiraishi’s doubting gaze, he guaranteed flatly yet with immense force: “Because I’m very strong, stronger than everyone you’ve ever seen combined.”
“I can summon wind and rain, command lightning, summon shikigami, and also draw my sword to become a top-class sword master under heaven.”
His gaze was bright and spirited, then he gently patted the back of Shiraishi’s ice-cold hand,
“But still, thanks for the reminder.”
Shangshan Che smiled at the somewhat dazed Shiraishi: “Shiraishi, thank you for worrying about me.”
“Oh…”
He hurriedly pulled back his stiff palm, turned his head, and muttered to himself: “Stupid boss, what the hell are you thanking me for.”
Shiraishi was trying to pay more attention to the movements outside when he suddenly noticed a bowl of frothy thick tea appear before him; one could clearly see the brewer’s poor skill.
“Want some? Listening, I feel like your throat is dry.”
Shiraishi silently took the tea bowl with both hands, ignored the heat, and gulped it down to the last drop.
After finishing, he was about to casually thank when he heard Shangshan Che snap his fingers sharply.
“Since I’ve learned the precautions and rested…”
Shangshan Che clapped his hands, looking expectantly at the child still wiping tea stains from his mouth: “So Shiraishi, how about we use this time to test my brand-new teaching method?”
While Shiraishi was recounting his past earlier, Shangshan Che felt he had accidentally discovered Shiraishi’s true talent.
—Graphic memory, or rather, memory of visual things.
Maybe Shiraishi was terrible at understanding text.
But he could vividly remember the layout of a city from who-knows-how-long ago, precise down to what time he saw how many people and what was around them.
Since that’s the case, Shangshan Che thought—I’ll demonstrate actions for him to observe, then have him imitate directly?
No need to understand, just copy the answer!
The only concern now was whether Shiraishi’s observation skills were strong enough.
—Shangshan Che demonstrated a simplified ki-gong technique operation in front of him, then asked: “Remembered it?”
“This seems not hard.”
Shiraishi thought for a few seconds, then began imitating.
Then, to Shangshan Che’s surprise, Shiraishi perfectly replicated his breathing rhythm and method one-to-one.
“Hoo…”
Two or three minutes later, Shiraishi exhaled a breath of turbid air slightly.
He was stunned for a moment, then joyfully clenched his fist: “Boss, my strength really increased a bit, your method works!”
In that instant, a clock-background prompt jumped before Shangshan Che’s eyes.
【Current Walker of the Eternal World degree of influence on history: 0.05%.】
—I just taught Shiraishi this shallow ki-gong technique, and it changed history?!
You know, since arriving in the Sengoku Period, Shangshan Che had exorcised the Well Woman, spread the fame of onmyoji, and been brought to the Imagawa Residence by “Ii Naomasa”.
None of that triggered the Walker’s Chronometer prompt.
But now it did.
Shangshan Che swiped his fingertip to close the prompt; his gaze toward Shiraishi had become subtly intriguing.
Shiraishi, immersed in the joy of growing stronger, suddenly shuddered and looked at Shangshan Che with a chill: “Burp… Boss, why are you suddenly staring at me like that, it’s kinda creepy…”
Shangshan Che smiled at him: “Just think you have great talent; maybe I can teach you some real skills later.”
Hearing the praise, Shiraishi’s eyes sparkled like stars had been stuffed in, he put hands on hips, nose almost to the sky.
He waved his hands, but his tone showed no humility: “Nah nah, I’m just ordinary, average average, it’s just that what you taught is simple, boss.”
—Just teaching Shiraishi this much changed the course of history, meaning from this moment, he should count as a named figure in Sengoku history.
So if he taught Shiraishi all the ki-gong techniques he knew, or brought an illustrated version ninja manual from the Mortal Realm?
Then instruct Shiraishi after mastering to take disciples, passing it down generation after generation to now, and tell the current inheritor to find him.
Then, what changes would he see upon returning to the Mortal Realm?
Though just a rough idea, it seemed somewhat feasible.
Shangshan Che couldn’t help but feel expectant.
But before that—
Shangshan Che looked toward the maid figure at the doorway and heard her say,
“Your Excellencies, the coming-of-age ceremony is about to begin.”
Shiraishi whipped his head around reactively, his gaze instantly vigilant and resistant, but upon seeing just a single maid, he tsked and lowered his head.
Shangshan Che stood up and looked at the still-seated Shiraishi: “Not coming along?”
“I…”
Shiraishi opened his mouth, recalling the knife-like disgusted glares from the sparse samurai they passed on the way in.
If it was the coming-of-age ceremony, there’d probably be dozens or hundreds more such samurai around.
Shiraishi got goosebumps just thinking about it.
But before he could say more, Shangshan Che yanked him up from the floor: “With so many people at the ceremony site, are you scared samurai will draw swords and chop you on the spot?”
“Besides.”
Shiraishi heard Shangshan Che’s voice from ahead.
“—If someone draws a sword, I’ll just chop them first.”
……
Shangshan Che opened the door and saw the maid bowing toward him.
He asked: “Where is Lord Ii?”
The maid seemed unprepared for such a question, thought for a moment, then answered: “Lord Ii should already be waiting outside the audience hall for the ceremony to start.”
“Then please take me directly to the audience hall; it’s my first time and I don’t know the way.”
“Understood.”
The maid kept her extremely respectful bowed posture until turning around to lead the way.
Shangshan Che beckoned to Shiraishi behind him, signaling him to keep up.
The Imagawa Residence wasn’t too big, so in under two minutes, Shangshan Che followed the not-so-fast-paced maid to the edge of the so-called “audience hall”.
Still separated by a wall, Shangshan Che could clearly hear many samurai conversing, even the slight clinks of hilts nearly equal in number.
He was puzzled: Imagawa Yoshimoto holding a coming-of-age ceremony and allowing spectators to carry swords?
Not afraid they’d swarm and chop her?
“Your Excellency, I can only lead you this far.”
The maid stopped and stepped aside by the wide-open wall cavity: “Turn right from here to the audience hall; please proceed alone from there, Your Excellency.”
“Thanks.”
After thanking the maid, Shangshan Che had Shiraishi grab his robe corner before stepping forward—to prevent the little bean from getting lost in the crowd.
After just over a dozen steps, an open view appeared before Shangshan Che.
Noisy conversations rose and fell.
Looking up, all were samurai with daito and tachi at their waists, distinctive hairstyles, wearing formal robes emblazoned with family crests（samurai formal ceremonial attire）.
Farther in, in the center of the somewhat opulent audience hall sat a straight-backed figure—that was probably the protagonist of this coming-of-age ceremony, Takechiyo, the future Tokugawa Ieyasu.
Shangshan Che gazed at the boy’s round, serious face and teased inwardly: “So the old Tokugawa turtle was pretty cute as a kid.”
—But this face really looks unremarkable, not like material for ruling under heaven!
On both sides sat samurai and officials Shangshan Che didn’t recognize, probably core retainers of the Imagawa Clan.
The most striking was the white-haired, withered-skinned yet spirited old man with abyss-like might seated deepest in the audience hall.
Shiraishi’s voice immediately sounded from behind: “Taiyuan Xuezhai, boss, that white-haired old man is definitely the strategist called ‘Imagawa’s right arm’ Taiyuan Xuezhai!”
Taiyuan Xuezhai, huh.
Shangshan Che remembered him; encyclopedias said his death was a key reason for Imagawa Yoshimoto’s failure at the Battle of Okehazama.
Shangshan Che stared at him a bit and saw the old man was indeed near death; surviving another half month would be heavenly mercy at this rate.
Still sitting here now, probably forcing out his last breath.
Shangshan Che was about to look away when he found Taiyuan Xuezhai meeting his gaze from over a hundred meters away.
He was slightly startled and nodded at the latter.
Taiyuan Xuezhai showed no reaction, remaining silent, maintaining that utterly inscrutable might and demeanor.
Suddenly, Shangshan Che felt his robe tugged tighter.
Shiraishi’s muttering came like rapid fire,
“Imagawa Clan’s Asahina clan, Okabe clan, Iohara clan, Totomi’s Miura clan, Mikawa’s Matsudaira clan, and allies Takeda, Hojo… uh! Why did the Uesugi Clan send someone too!?”
Hearing his own clan name, Shangshan Che blinked, then realized Shiraishi meant the Sengoku era “Dragon of Echigo” Uesugi Kenshin’s Uesugi Clan.
But wasn’t the Uesugi Clan hostile to the alliance of Imagawa, Takeda, and Hojo?
Before Shangshan Che could figure it out, a questioning voice suddenly came from nearby toward him.
“That outfit… could Your Excellency be the recently world-famous onmyoji Che?”
As soon as these words were out, the previously noisy surroundings suddenly quieted, and this silence spread like a chain reaction.
In under half a minute, the entire area outside the hall was pin-drop silent, without a single extra conversation.
Even Takechiyo, seated motionless in the hall, couldn’t help but glance sideways at the conspicuously tall him.
Sensing countless gazes on him in an instant, Shangshan Che raised a brow.
—How come it feels like almost everyone here knows me?
It had only been days since he had Aratomi Village villagers help spread it?
His name spreading this fast was unnaturally quick.
Could “onmyoji” be that effective in the Sengoku Period?
Takeda Yoshinobu, who had subconsciously said it, looked around, not expecting such terrifying impact from his words.
With things as they were, he had no choice but to steel himself, step forward smiling: “First time meeting, Lord Che. I’m Takeda’s Takeda Yoshinobu.”
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Che.”
As Shangshan Che nodded to this eldest son of Takeda Shingen, he heard fragmented exchange voices rising around.
“Onmyoji? Looks like a mere crowd-pleasing clown to me; how could there be onmyoji in these heavens and earth now…”
“Whether onmyoji or not, have him take one of my slashes and we’ll know.”
“And what’s that following him, a commoner? Commoners allowed near Imagawa Residence? What bad luck!”
Female voices of dissatisfaction also came.
“Disgusting, just smelling that commoner’s stench makes me want to puke…”
“Hurry and chase that commoner out! Lord Che, though, can stay hehe.”
After brief silence, endless malice surged like tides toward Shangshan Che and Shiraishi at the hall’s edge.
Shiraishi’s body trembled; only after lowering his head did he dare show hateful, vicious killing intent.
He clutched Shangshan Che’s priest’s robe tightly, murmuring guiltily: “Sorry boss, I shouldn’t have come with you…”
Then he started muttering unclear dialects alone, probably plotting in the future how to deal with these samurai.
Even Takeda Yoshinobu, who had spoken to Shangshan Che, stiffened at the wave after wave of gossip, nearly making him want to cut ties right then.
Shangshan Che remained impassive; after scanning around and sensing everyone’s strength, he shook his head disdainfully,
“A mob of rabble…”
Though the surrounding samurai didn’t understand, the taunting intent was obvious.
Immediately, a burly samurai who had cultivated breathing technique glared angrily at him: “You demon! Dare say that again!”
“—Say it again, so what?”
The samurai from Totomi Iio clan whipped around at these words, eyes bulging, roaring: “Step out here!”
So the person stepped out.
At the other end of the plaza, several levels of steps away, two rows of black-armored yet swordless samurai silently parted to the sides, clearing a wide path through the crowd.
Then, maids sequentially unrolled vibrant fluffy carpets, connecting straight from the steps into the audience hall.
Under that Iio clan samurai’s gaze, wearing tall wooden clogs, draped in exceedingly luxurious juni-hitoe, with cold and noble air, Imagawa Yoshimoto stepped onto the carpet.
She looked from dozens of meters away at the burly samurai and spoke coldly: “Now then, I’ve stepped out.”
No one answered.
That samurai shrank into the crowd the instant he saw her, hunching like a quail, trembling, hoping Imagawa Yoshimoto hadn’t memorized his face.
“Cowards who only badmouth behind backs…”
Imagawa Yoshimoto indifferently withdrew her gaze.
Moments later, she overlooked everyone in the plaza and declared loudly: “Lord Che is Yoshimoto’s honored guest; if any of you have opinions or dissatisfaction toward him, speak directly to Yoshimoto now.”
The black-haired girl finished, standing on the steps for a long time, scanning each face like inspecting her territory.
Dead silence before the audience hall; no samurai or noble dared meet her eyes.
The crowd fell silent, not daring to respond.
Only Shangshan Che rubbed his eyes, stunned staring at the cold proud daimyo girl in juni-hitoe, never expecting to reunite with that “Ii Naomasa” this way.
Wait, what?
Never mind the gender swap… if she really was Imagawa Yoshimoto, the gap from his impressions was too huge!
The former was mild-mannered, people-oriented, elegant and learned yet never demanding extras from others.
As for the latter, aside from political achievements, nothing but flaws.
Did these two share even a tiny similarity beyond the name “Imagawa Yoshimoto”?
And if she truly was Imagawa Yoshimoto, then this 1.4-something-meter girl was the legendary Tokaido’s Number One Archer, the only daimyo under heaven with a million koku?
Shangshan Che then realized what she meant earlier by “surprise”.
Shiraishi behind him was also dumbfounded, finding it unbelievable.
—Though this woman has plenty of presence, Imagawa Yoshimoto is such an unrealistically beautiful woman?! Women can be daimyo too?!
And her age seems not much older than mine, yet she was so gentle to a commoner like me before…
For a moment, Shiraishi felt an indescribable defeat.
He panted, not daring to look at the dazzling Imagawa Yoshimoto anymore, and shrank his head under Shangshan Che’s robe.
In the silence, Imagawa Yoshimoto paused her gaze on Shangshan Che a moment, then slightly lifted her lips toward him, showing a brief smile.
Clack, clack, clack.
The sole common master of Suruga, Totomi, Mikawa took steps onto the carpet only she was qualified to touch.
The muffled sounds of wooden clogs on carpet echoed step by step.
Midway, a Mikawa samurai’s toe accidentally crossed the carpet boundary, nearly touching the edge of Imagawa Yoshimoto’s juni-hitoe.
Imagawa Yoshimoto stopped, then indifferently shifted her gaze,
“Kneel, then crawl out of my sight.”
That samurai hastily thanked and immediately knelt crawling away.
In contrast, as Imagawa Yoshimoto neared the carpet’s end, she turned, stepping onto the uncovered floor tiles.
Along the way, samurai were pushed to the sides by black-armored warriors, willing or not.
But no one dared complain.
Then, at the end of this deliberately cleared path, Shangshan Che’s figure appeared.
Imagawa Yoshimoto walked over, stopping before Shangshan Che, unconcerned about dust on her juni-hitoe.
She looked up, nodding slightly to Shangshan Che: “Lord Che gracing this coming-of-age ceremony is truly a surprise for Yoshimoto.”
Her words fell along with the prompt.
【Current Walker of the Eternal World degree of influence on history: 0.15%.】
Shangshan Che quietly gazed at the black-haired girl before him, who had transformed from guessed noble miss or maid into a grand daimyo, at a loss for words.
Damn, history books and encyclopedias are total bullshit.
If he’d known earlier Imagawa Yoshimoto was a daimyo whose minor flaws couldn’t overshadow her merits, he should’ve gone with another plan!
But this way, choosing to follow Imagawa Yoshimoto didn’t seem bad?
After all, it was still early for the Honnoji Incident, but the Battle of Okehazama was near.
Imagawa Yoshimoto nearly perfectly fit the task conditions, and personally felt very compatible.
A wise ruler.
Seeing Imagawa Yoshimoto seemingly awaiting his response, Shangshan Che’s mind turned, having made his decision.
He smiled at Imagawa Yoshimoto, then looked toward Taiyuan Xuezhai in the audience hall.
Precisely, the phthisis ghost now still lurking behind Taiyuan Xuezhai, ceaselessly draining his spirit, energy, and vitality day and night.
Shangshan Che took a deep breath and snapped open the blessed folding fan.
—Then, starting from this moment here and now, let’s leave my unique mark in history!
