“My name…”
Wu Ming felt a moment of frustration inwardly. This was truly a battle that could bring him fame, but unfortunately, his background was not clean. On his face, however, he feigned disdain: “You are not worthy to know it…”
Sure enough, upon hearing these words, the eyes of Hasegawa Saimon across from him flashed with a look of insulted pride, though his face became even colder, unmoving like a mountain.
Among samurai, during a duel, all manner of tactics and strategies were fair game. Such simple verbal provocations, while angering him, could only serve to make his mind even calmer.
If he lacked such discipline, he wouldn’t have survived until now.
The two locked eyes slowly, and a chilling, sharp aura began to envelop the area, causing cold sweat to once again bead on Goro’s forehead.
Who knew how long they waited, when suddenly Hasegawa Saimon roared and slashed out with his sword!
Ding!
A flash of thunder and fire light from Wu Ming’s blade met it in a matching slash.
The clash of steel rang out crisply, and then a spray of blood erupted from Hasegawa Saimon’s body.
“What… style of swordsmanship is this?”
He fell to the ground, yet his eyes reflected a pure thirst for knowledge.
“There’s no name… but if I must give it one, it would be the Raijin-Fujin Style.”
Wu Ming slowly sheathed his sword. In actual martial prowess, he was merely at the Outer Qi level, while this samurai was equivalent to an expert at the Peak Transformation Stage.
Unfortunately for Hasegawa, Wu Ming had integrated the Five Thunder Talisman techniques into his swordsmanship, wielding wind and thunder in his strikes. Combining Daoist techniques with martial skill, his power directly reached the third tier. Thus, the samurai’s death was justified.
“Raijin-Fujin… too bad… my training has failed…”
Blood trickled from the corner of Hasegawa Saimon’s mouth as he exhaled his last breath.
“Let’s go!”
Wu Ming tossed down a silver coin and immediately pulled Goro away.
Although there were laws protecting fair duels between samurai, and killing within the city wouldn’t lead to legal punishment, any subsequent vendettas from relatives or friends were left to sort themselves out.
Wu Ming naturally wasn’t afraid of any retaliation from the Mugen Ryu dojo behind Hasegawa, but the real issue was… he wasn’t even a samurai!
If cornered, would he have to fight his way out? That would cause too much attention and ruin his plans entirely.
“An identity! My immediate priority must be to obtain a proper identity!”
Wu Ming quickly pulled Goro into an alley corner, watching squads of foot soldiers running past, as he thought gloomily.
…
“Let’s go!”
Despite having killed someone, after walking two streets over, Wu Ming appeared completely composed.
Even his white moon-colored samurai uniform bore no speck of blood.
At this point, he even led Goro toward the commercial district and entered a leather shop.
The shop door was open, brightly lit inside. The walls were lined with finished furs. Behind the small shop, a small workshop was visible where about a dozen workers were diligently sewing armor and cuirasses.
“Kanburo! Kanburo!”
Goro spotted a young worker in his early twenties and immediately approached to greet him: “Long time no see!”
“Yeah, it’s you, Goro!”
Kanburo held a bamboo armor piece: “What’s up?”
“I’ve brought a noble here to sell a fur. Come take a look…”
Goro emphasized the word “noble,” feeling a bit smug. After all, Kanburo had been working here for a long time and was recently rumored to be getting promoted, which stirred a touch of jealousy in him.
“Oh?”
Kanburo was surprised. He entered the shop, saw Wu Ming in his samurai attire with a daisho, and without even inspecting the goods, immediately performed a formal bow:
“Respected noble, please excuse me. I shall fetch the manager right away!”
“Hmm.”
Wu Ming gave a noncommittal nod. He hadn’t expected much from whoever Goro knew. Now it seemed this Kanburo was merely a lowly assistant, so naturally, someone at the manager level would be needed to handle his business.
“Oh… this is a top-grade bear hide!”
The shop’s manager, or rather, the store director, was a middle-aged man with a slightly bald head and a pleasant face. Upon seeing the fur, he was stunned: “Such a massive bear… what strength would be required to kill it with a single blow?”
“What do you think?”
Wu Ming, now seated on the tatami mat, remained unhurried as the man examined the fur back and forth.
“Esteemed samurai lord, this hide of yours is worth at least twenty kan, no, thirty kan!”
The middle-aged manager had another unspoken thought—he recognized the hide as belonging to the demon Fuma, whose skin would be highly valued not only by noble warrior families but also by priests and yin-yang masters. It could easily fetch fifty kan!
“Thirty kan, fine… but there’s another matter…”
Wu Ming was about to continue when a worker hurried in and whispered something into the manager’s ear.
“My master wishes to meet you in person!”
After hearing this, the manager’s expression changed further. He knelt and bowed deeply: “Please do us the honor!”
“Oh? Then let’s go!”
Such wealthy merchants often had the backing of powerful daimyo and other factions, and wielded significant influence. Wu Ming agreed readily.
Led by the manager, they exited the commercial district and approached a large residence.
“This is a guest of my master!”
The estate was quite spacious, with two guards at the entrance, prompting Wu Ming to nod approvingly, raising his estimation slightly.
“Goro, wait here!”
Then, under the manager’s guidance, he entered the main gate, leaving Goro behind with a gaze of admiration.
Inside the main hall, seated on the tatami mats, was a merchant dressed in black kimono, sipping tea.
Seeing Wu Ming, his eyes lit up and he stood to bow respectfully: “Pleased to meet you. My name is Naito Takamasa. I am a merchant in service to the Yamada family!”
“I am currently a ronin. As for my name, you may call me Ko no Sukemasa.”
Wu Ming’s reply clearly caused Naito Takamasa’s expression to shift.
“A swordsman of such strength without samurai lineage?”
In this world, the chances for commoners, farmers, or the lower classes to rise were slim, but not impossible.
Someone like Goro, for instance, might learn true swordsmanship and gain samurai status by serving a daimyo.
Naito Takamasa naturally assumed Wu Ming was such a lucky commoner who had gained martial prowess. However, the information he had previously received, combined with the proof of defeating Fuma-dono, was sufficient to earn his respect.
(Note: “Fuma殿” is rendered as “Fuma-dono” to preserve the honorific nuance in Japanese context, while maintaining readability in English.)
“Please, have a seat.”
The two knelt on the tatami mats before a low table, upon which rested a set of dark red tea utensils.
As Naito Takamasa was about to speak, he suddenly held his breath, his face showing shock and disbelief.
“How about a cup of tea first?”
Wu Ming asked with a faint smile, his expression turning solemn as he picked up the tea utensils.
In an instant, a feeling of unity between heaven, earth, and man filled the room with a mysterious Zen-like aura.
Naito Takamasa watched Wu Ming’s eyes, which were clear and transparent, as he calmly prepared the tea with fluid, graceful movements, muttering involuntarily: “Zuowang (sitting in forgetfulness)?”
As stated in the “Zhuangzi · Da Zong Shi”: “Discarding limbs, rejecting intelligence, separating from form, abandoning knowledge, merging with the great unity—this is called zuowang (sitting in forgetfulness).”
In the art of tea ceremony, this refers to a method of achieving profound stillness—”quieting the mind, perceiving the essence, harmonizing with nature, embracing all things within the heart”—a state of mind that returns to simplicity and liberates one’s nature, achieving serenity, tranquility, solitude, and non-action, as if merging with the universe and reaching a state of enlightenment.
But such a tea ceremony could be called masterful. Even someone as experienced as Naito Takamasa, who had traveled across the continent, had only witnessed this once in the capital’s tea district. How could such mastery appear before him now in this young man?
“Please!”
At this point, the first bowl of tea was placed before him.
“Pardon my rudeness!”
Naito Takamasa wiped his eyes, receiving the ethereal aura like a pilgrim.
The tea’s aroma entered his mouth, as if transforming into a cool, straight line directly into his abdomen, making him feel as if every pore opened, merging his body and spirit into the Zen state.
The second bowl of tea carried a warmth that gently drew him back from his previous state, allowing him to feel the joy of life once more.
The third bowl was small and hot, finally bringing his thoughts fully back into his body.
“Life? Death? The human world? This tea contains the way of a samurai’s life and death…”
Naito Takamasa exclaimed in astonishment.
At this moment, his previous suspicions were completely overturned.
An ordinary countryman, even if he could achieve supreme martial prowess, could never imitate the elegance and essence deeply rooted in one’s nature.
“Could this noble… be a descendant of a failed aristocratic family?”
This thought immediately arose in his mind, and he no longer dared to show the slightest negligence toward Wu Ming.
“May I ask what plans you have, Lord Ko no Sukemasa?”
Naito Takamasa, kneeling and bowing deeply, respectfully inquired.
“Plans? Currently, I’m traveling around, helping villagers eliminate demons and ghosts for rewards.”
Wu Ming replied casually: “After visiting Izumo Province, I might head south to see what lies there…”
“In that case…”
Naito Takamasa continued: “How about serving my master? My lord, Torimori, commands twelve thousand koku of rice! He is a renowned feudal lord in Izumo Province and would certainly welcome a talented young man like yourself. Even granting a family name and stipend is not beyond possibility… Perhaps granting a stipend immediately might be difficult, but it’s negotiable…”
“Mr. Takamasa, no need to say more!”
Wu Ming waved his hand, looking at the merchant before him.
Clearly, the merchant was genuinely eager to recruit him for his master. Was this what it meant to have a loyal retainer?
“Apologies, but I have no intention of taking service!”
While joining the Yamada family might immediately grant him a family name and stipend, it would also impose significant restrictions. Naturally, Wu Ming would not agree.
“Oh! That is truly a pity…”
Disappointment was evident on Naito Takamasa’s face.
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