Chapter 81: Yan Sheng's mentality collapses (Three chapters combined...)

Hozuki's voice pierced the air like an icicle, carrying a tangible chill. He walked over step by step, his gaze first sharply sweeping over Yan Sheng, and finally settling on Bai Ze, who was trying to shrink behind Yan Sheng to make his presence known.

"I've confiscated all your merits." Hozuki's voice was low and steady, yet contained the deathly stillness before a storm. "I didn't give them to you to squander like this."

As he spoke, he raised the fearsome spiked club in his hand, its sharp metal spikes gleaming ominously in the dim light of the underworld. Each step he took was steady, like the tolling of a death knell, as he approached Bai Ze.

When Bai Ze saw Hozuki's posture, his heart sank.

Oh no, I'm probably going to get a beating today.

You ask him why he's so sure he's going to get beaten up? Of course, isn't his years of experience fighting (and getting beaten up) enough to prove it?

Of course, it was always his own fault for not being able to control his mouth or for being impulsive, but Hozuki was really ruthless and never showed any mercy! Thinking of the excruciating pain of the spiked club hitting his body, Bai Ze felt a pang of pain in his teeth and, disregarding any semblance of divine beast dignity, turned and ran.

"Stop!" Hozuki shouted, his pent-up anger finally erupting. Today, he was determined to teach this unreliable bastard a lesson.

He moved with incredible speed, leaving only a blur, and instantly caught up with the enemy.

Yan Sheng stood still, silently looking up as he watched two figures, one white and one black, engage in a fierce chase in mid-air.

Bai Ze dodged and weaved with all his might, occasionally trying to distract him with words: "Hey, Hozuki! Calm down! Violence won't solve anything! We can talk about terms, how about I give you 30%... no, 50% of the merit?" But all he got in response was the whistling sound of the spiked club cutting through the air.

As it turns out, Bai Ze's slipperiness couldn't last long in the face of absolute power and rage.

Not long after, a piercing scream was heard: "Ah—!"

Bai Ze was struck by Hozuki's precise sweeping attack and fell from the sky like a meteor, crashing into the goldfish bushes in the corner of the courtyard with a "bang," causing the strange plants to emit an even more chaotic "gurgling and popping" sound.

Immediately following were one-sided, rhythmic thuds and Bai Ze's intermittent wails and pleas for mercy.

"Ouch! Stop hitting me! It hurts!"

"I was wrong! I was really wrong!"

"Be gentle! Your bones are going to break!"

"My handsome face! I can't accept being slapped in the face!"

After a while, the commotion gradually subsided.

Hozuki returned refreshed, the spiked club in his hand nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, in the goldfish grass, Hakutaku, covered in weeds and tumbled about, unable to get up for the time being.

Hozuki then turned his attention back to Yan Sheng, his tone returning to its usual businesslike calm: "What are you doing in Hell? It's best for living souls to avoid places like this; the yin energy is corrosive and won't do your body or soul any good. However," he changed the subject, a dark glint flashing in his eyes, "if you want to come down sooner to fulfill our previous contract, I don't mind, and I can even 'help' you speed things up a bit."

The meaning is clear: if you want to die, he can do it for you.

Yan Sheng: "..." He automatically ignored Hozuki's "good intentions" in the second half of his sentence and directly stated his purpose: "I have something I want to ask you."

This time, he didn't use the lame excuse of "my friend".

Since Hozuki knows about his past and present lives, continuing to hide it would only seem ridiculous and futile.

He recounted everything about Senju Yoriichi, including the child's unusual closeness and the natural way he called him "brother."

Hozuki listened without showing any surprise, as if it were all within his expectations. He even nodded and then commented objectively, "If your younger brother hadn't been so obsessive, he wouldn't have done something as earth-shattering as almost turning up Hell to save you."

He paused, glancing with a hint of mockery at Bai Ze, who was still groaning in the distance. "What did that scumbag tell you? Did he tell you to just drink more Meng Po soup? Hmph, excessive consumption of Meng Po soup will damage the essence of the soul and make people stupid. Don't believe his nonsense."

Yan Sheng was silent for a moment, then asked, "Then what should I do?"

Hozuki: "Your brother has simply etched his obsession with you deep into his soul, making it a kind of instinct. He doesn't have any memories of his past life, so at most it just manifests in his being particularly clingy to you and subconsciously wanting to be close to you. If you ignore him and stay away from him, he'll naturally... well, that's about it."

At the end, Hozuki's tone carried a hint of uncertainty.

It's fine for ordinary souls to behave this way, but for Yoriichi Tsugikuni... it's quite risky.

"What if he insists on getting closer and I can't stop him?" Yan Sheng recalled the power that Yoriichi unleashed when he broke free from Tobirama's control, and the burning gaze behind him that was impossible to ignore.

Upon hearing this, Hozuki gave Yan Sheng a meaningful glance, as if to say, "You already know the answer in your heart." He spoke calmly, his voice light and airy:

"You'd better be." — He really wanted to stop it.

"What?"

Hozuki didn't explain, his tone abruptly shifting, but instead offered a solution perfectly suited to his role as an assistant in Hell—simple, brutal, and effective: "If you're really so conflicted and can't stand it, I have two suggestions: either you die and come down to earth sooner, escaping this world; or you kill your brother and send him down to earth sooner, so you can get rid of him."

Yan Sheng: "".

In the end, Yan Sheng naturally did not adopt Hozuki's overly hardcore suggestion.

On the same night, under a moonlit sky, another person was also unable to sleep.

The land of the Thousand Hands Clan.

The house of Tobirama Senju.

The second-in-command of the Senju clan, known as a scientific research expert and a scientific luminary, was staring wide-eyed at the wooden grain on the ceiling, as if trying to discern some cosmic truth from those winding lines, or more precisely, to uncover a strange mystery about the Senju and Uchiha clans that had troubled him for a long time.

His brain was working at high speed, like his improved Multiple Shadow Clone Technique, with countless images and information streams repeatedly washing over his nerves.

The scene from the daytime that had sent his blood pressure soaring played on repeat in his mind: Senju Yoriichi, the genius on whom the entire clan placed their hopes but whose personality was too aloof, followed closely behind Uchiha Kokushibo like a little animal that had found its long-lost master, its small hands tightly gripping the other's sleeve, its clear eyes filled with complete dependence and affection, and it even uttered the earth-shattering words "brother".

How could the Senju and Uchiha clans become brothers?

What was going through Yoriichi's little mind? He had never called anyone "brother"—let alone "brother," he wouldn't want to talk to anyone if he could, except perhaps his parents. But that was normal, after all, they were his parents.

However, Yoriichi ignores everyone else. If you talk to him, he will stare at you silently; if you get angry with him, he will calmly look at you.

It's an absolute display of arrogance.

Yeah, the polite version.

This scene strangely overlapped with two other figures in Tobirama's memory: his older brother Hashirama Senju, who always talked about "Madara," and Madara Uchiha, who was powerful, arrogant, and only showed a different attitude towards his older brother.

Hashirama and Madara... Yoriichi and Miku...

...

...

Is this combination some kind of unbreakable curse?!

Tobirama couldn't help but begin to question the meaning of life.

He attempted to analyze it from a rational and scientific perspective.

Could it be that there's something wrong with the genes of this generation of Senju and Uchiha, resulting in some unknown, mutually attractive mutation? Or perhaps, during the founding of Konoha, some ancient, unknown sealing or curse technique had side effects, subtly influencing the two clans? Or... is it simply some incredibly rare, damned coincidence?

Otherwise, there's no way to explain it; it's too bizarre.

Furthermore, upon closer examination, the affair between Hashirama and Madara can ultimately be explained with a degree of "reasonableness." They shared common ideals, recognized each other in battle, and were rivals and...friends for many years (a fact Tobirama reluctantly admits). But what about Yoriichi and Mikuchi?

To be honest, even with Tobirama's stereotypes and prejudices against the Uchiha, he couldn't honestly say that Uchiha Kokukatsu was the one who initiated this or that there was some kind of conspiracy.

He used his intelligence network to carefully and repeatedly verify every detail of what happened today.

The conclusion is that Uchiha Kokusatsu did not take any clear action after entering the Senju clan's territory. It was Yoriichi himself who, upon seeing Kokusatsu, was like iron filings attracted by a magnet, inexplicably and without hesitation sticking to him.

That's really strange.

What is Yoriichi doing? It's like someone who never eats ice suddenly starting to eat large mouthfuls of ice.

Furthermore, there is an age gap of more than 20 years between the two!

While there are many friendships between people of different ages, such friendships are usually based on shared interests, ideals, or long-term interaction. But these two are clearly meeting for the first time today.

Ha, a friendship that transcends age and generation? This is simply a one-sided, bizarre, amplified version of a childhood sweetheart relationship that transcends age and seniority.

"How weird." Tobirama couldn't help but mutter to himself, his brows furrowed into a tight knot. "It really is weird."

Just imagining the possible future scenarios—their carefully nurtured genius might be chasing after Uchiha Kokushibo like their older brother chased after Uchiha Madara; or worse, what if Uchiha Kokushibo one day responds for some unknown reason...

Tobirama felt a sudden stomachache, as if he could see countless troubles in the future and his own sanity collapsing before him.

I can't sleep, I just can't sleep.

Tonight, there are two people who can't sleep.

Yan Sheng: Feeling annoyed.

Tobirama: Confused.

...

...

The night outside the window began to fade, and a faint glimmer of dawn appeared on the horizon, heralding the coming of a new day.

After tossing and turning and racking his brains for almost a whole night, Tobirama Senju's tense nerves finally felt a bit tired, and his heavy eyelids began to droop. With the usual time to get up and handle affairs approaching, he decided to seize this last bit of time to take a short nap, even if it was just a little dozing off.

His consciousness gradually became hazy, as if sinking into warm water, about to be enveloped by the darkness of sleep.

Suddenly, a overlooked, extremely subtle clue, like a lightning bolt flashing in the darkness, cleaved through his chaotic mind.

Tobirama woke up instantly, his eyes snapping open, all sleepiness vanished, and his heart pounded heavily.

Uchiha Yansheng...aside from looking extremely similar to Uchiha Madara, he himself also seems somewhat familiar.

This sense of familiarity did not stem from his blood relation with Madara, but rather from a long-forgotten impression evoked by Uchiha Kokusatsu himself.

—He must have seen Yan Sheng somewhere before, not in Konoha, not in recent years, but much earlier, in some almost forgotten corner or situation.

But where exactly is it?

Tobirama sat up from the tatami mat, pressing his hands hard against his throbbing temples, trying to search through the vast, misty memory bank.

He mobilized all his brain cells, carefully sifting through every fragment of the past... The timeline kept moving forward, back to an even more distant, war-torn era.

He felt a throbbing pain in his head from excessive thinking and recollection, as if a nerve was twitching incessantly. Countless blurry figures and scenes flashed by rapidly, fragmented and disjointed.

etc.

An image that had left a deep impression on him, but had become somewhat blurred over the years, resurfaced.

It was in Tairi Town that he met an Uchiha boy who had awakened the Mangekyou Sharingan at a young age, and he was almost killed by the boy!

Although his face had matured and his temperament had become more profound and reserved, and power and strength had given him a completely different aura, he could never forget that profile.

After all, he was fifteen years old back then, while the other party was definitely no more than ten. He was pinned down and hammered by a child who was only a few years old, and his injuries were so severe that he almost died.

...It was him?

Having realized that the Kaleidoscope child who severely injured him back then was Uchiha Kokusatsu, Tobirama Senju laughed in extreme anger.

However, it wasn't Uchiha Kokusatsu who was angry, but rather his older brother, Senju Hashirama.

The elder brother had met with Yan Sheng many times, so he must have known about it for a long time but hadn't told him.

Seeing that he couldn't sleep at all, Tobirama got up with a dark face, washed up, and used the Flying Thunder God Mark to locate Hashirama Senju's position.

—He left the Flying Thunder God mark on his elder brother, who, of course, was aware of it.

Speaking of which, as the founders of Konoha, Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha, apart from staying in the village to handle affairs in the first few years after the village was established (although most of the actual work was done by him and Izuna), were basically in a state of "appearing and disappearing like dragons", ostensibly "traveling the ninja world" and "consolidating peace", but in reality, they were just doing their job as hands-off managers.

The burden of village affairs, big and small, ranging from diplomatic maneuvering with other major powers to trivial matters between different ethnic groups, almost entirely fell on his and Uchiha Izuna's shoulders.

Thinking of this, Tobirama felt a sense of shared misfortune, like that of two "brothers in distress."

When Tobirama found Hashirama Senju, Hashirama was standing on a cliff opposite the Hokage Building, arms crossed, chin in hand, staring intently at the empty cliff face, deep in thought.

The perception of the God of Shinobi is naturally extraordinary, especially since Tobirama did not deliberately conceal his presence.

So, when Tobirama was about to speak in a cold voice, Hashirama was not intimidated at all. Instead, he preemptively pointed to the smooth rock wall and said in a tone full of longing:

"Tobirama, you've come at the perfect time! What do you say, how about I carve out two rock sculptures of people here?"

Tobirama, utterly shocked by his brother's abrupt and unexpected train of thought, momentarily forgot his righteous indignation and instinctively followed the topic, asking numbly, "Where did this sudden idea come from this time?"

Hashirama turned around, his face showing a hint of emotion and a touch of... barely perceptible envy?

"When Madara and I were out catching... oh no, I mean, traveling, we went to quite a few places." He scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Whether it was a big city or a small town, there were statues of Mikoto in many places." He gestured. "The reforms Mikoto implemented brought peace to the ninja world, allowing people to eat and dress well. It's normal for people to admire and love him so much, so it's normal to have statues erected in his memory... It's just... I thought about how Konoha was founded by Madara and me, and it embodies our hard work and ideals to some extent, so I thought..."

Towards the end, this renowned ninja god, famous throughout the ninja world, actually became hesitant.

Seeing his expression, Tobirama instantly understood and replied in a calm tone that was almost resigned, "You want to build a statue of you and Uchiha Madara, right?"

"Yes!" Hashirama's eyes immediately lit up as he nodded vigorously, and behind him, a profusion of flowers bloomed. "So that future generations can remember us! Remember the origin of Konoha!"

"You're kidding me!" Tobirama finally lost his temper, veins popping out on his forehead. "The village hasn't even officially elected a Hokage yet, the position is just sitting there vacant. Look at the other major ninja villages, which one doesn't have a Kage? Is Konoha the only exception? Instead of thinking about how to move this forward, you're thinking about carving a stone statue?"

"Hey, Madara and I already said it doesn't matter whether you or Izuna are the Kage, we have no objections. If it really doesn't work out, no one can be the Kage. Who says a village has to have a Kage?" Hashirama waved his hand, looking like he didn't care about these details. "Other villages have their own Kage, that's their business. Tobirama, we can't just follow the crowd, we have to have our own unique characteristics!"

"Brother!" Tobirama felt his blood pressure soaring again. "Such unconventional words might be acceptable coming from other people, but coming from you is irresponsible! Never mind." He abruptly interrupted the topic, remembering his purpose for coming, his face darkened again. "By the way, I came to ask you a question."

"What?" Hashirama blinked, looking completely innocent.

Tobirama took a deep breath, his gaze sharp as a knife, staring intently into Hashirama's eyes, and asked, word by word, "Uchiha Kokusatsu—the Mangekyou Sharingan who severely injured me back in Tairi Town. Did you already know that?"

Hashirama's smile froze for a moment, his eyes darting around, and he coughed twice: "Cough cough! I didn't know! There's such a thing? He's actually that Kaleidoscope from back then? Wow, I never expected that. As expected of Madara's brother! He's really amazing! Hahaha." He tried to get away with it with an exaggerated laugh.

However, his poor acting skills were completely exposed to Tobirama.

“Brother,” Tobirama’s voice was as cold as ice, “Stop pretending, your acting is terrible.”

"Hahaha, really?" Hashirama continued to laugh dryly, a bead of cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

Seeing his elder brother's obviously guilty expression, Tobirama's last shred of hope vanished. He knew it all along! He had indeed known all along, and had kept it from him for so many years!

The air seemed to freeze, with only Hashirama's increasingly hoarse laughter drifting in the wind.

Tobirama stared at Hashirama, his gaze so sharp it seemed it could scrape off a layer of skin.

Hashirama's dry laughter grew fainter and fainter under his brother's cold gaze, eventually fading completely, leaving only an awkward silence in the wind.

Hashirama scratched his head, a serious, apologetic expression on his face, and said in a deep voice, "I'm sorry, Tobirama. I repent." He honestly admitted, "But... I was just afraid you'd mind too much. After all, he hurt you quite badly back in Tairi Town..."

"You know I do mind," Tobirama interrupted irritably.

Hashirama shrank his neck.

"But," Hashirama changed his tone, his voice becoming serious, "Tobirama, look at what Mikoto is doing now. The reforms he promoted, the peace he achieved, allowing so many ordinary people to live peaceful lives... He's done a great job." He paused, then said frankly, "It's far more impressive than what Madara and I thought and did back then."

As he spoke, Hashirama's voice lowered, and he lowered his eyes slightly, gazing at the prosperous Hidden Leaf Village below, his gaze somewhat lost and complicated.

It wasn't jealousy, but rather a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of deep emotion or reflection) at seeing a broader path ahead, and a subtle melancholy at having one's own ideals realized by others in a different way.

The village he and Ban dreamed of was just the beginning; while the peace that Yan Sheng controlled covered the whole world.

Seeing his elder brother's rare expression, Tobirama felt the anger that had been building up in his chest subside, eventually turning into a helpless sigh.

“I’m not that petty,” Tobirama finally relented, his tone softening. “Past personal grudges can be set aside in the face of a larger situation. Besides,” he analyzed objectively, “this world truly cannot do without Uchiha Kokusatsu. The order and rules he established have just been stabilized, too many forces are dependent on them, and too many people wish him dead because their interests were harmed by his reforms. Once he falls, the existing balance will collapse instantly, and war will likely return with even greater ferocity.”

Upon hearing his brother's words, Hashirama abruptly looked up, his eyes instantly lighting up with emotion and relief, as if he had witnessed some kind of miracle: "That's wonderful, Tobirama! You understand, that's truly wonderful!" He excitedly grabbed Tobirama's shoulder, "I knew you weren't such a stubborn person! Maybe you and Mitsuhiro can become like Madara and me, understanding each other and fighting side by side—"

"Impossible!" Tobirama's face darkened as he decisively interrupted Hashirama's unrealistic fantasies, swatting his hand away in disgust. "Don't assume everyone is like you and Madara Uchiha. There's one more thing." He steered the conversation back to another pressing issue that was giving him a headache, "Do you know Yoriichi...?"

"What's wrong with Yoriichi?" Hashirama's attention was indeed diverted, and a look of concern appeared on his face. "That kid was a bit strange yesterday, but he's just a kid, it's normal for him to admire someone who's powerful."

Hashirama knew about what Yoriichi and Miku had done yesterday.

He's been staying in the village these past two days, how could he not know?

“That’s not worship!” Tobirama said through gritted teeth. “When that kid saw Uchiha Mikatsu yesterday, he rushed up to him, grabbed his sleeve, and called him brother! No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t pull him away! If I hadn’t arrived in time, I don’t know what would have happened.”

"Huh?" Hashirama's eyes widened, his mouth forming an "O" shape, clearly stunned by this development. "Calling me 'brother'?! Yoriichi...does he like Mikushi this much?"

"Is this a matter of liking someone?" Tobirama felt his blood pressure, which had just dropped a little, rise again. "This is completely illogical!"

Hashirama stroked his chin, lost in thought, and said, "Hmm...it is indeed strange. Yoriichi, that child, is usually not close to anyone, so why is he so affectionate towards Michikatsu, whom he just met...could this be a fateful encounter?"

Just like him and Ban.

"Big brother! Stop joking!" Tobirama was almost going crazy. "The important thing is that Uchiha Mikatsu's attitude towards Yoriichi is also very subtle; he didn't even react on the spot. In short, this matter absolutely cannot be ignored!"

Seeing his younger brother's alarmed expression, Hashirama patted him on the shoulder and reassured him, "Relax, Tobirama. It's not as serious as you think. Kokushibo... although his methods can be harsh at times, he's not an unreasonable person at heart. Besides, why would he be after Yoriichi? As for Yoriichi, he's still young; we can guide him slowly."

“Guide him? How do you guide him?” Tobirama said irritably. “What if he sneaks off to find Uchiha Mikatsu one day? Just like you did when you were a kid—do you expect me to lock that kid up?”

"Ahem! This, this can't be the same." Hashirama looked up at the sky guiltily, avoiding his brother's sharp gaze. "Madara and I were... we were fighting for the ideal of peace! Yoriichi and Mikusa... their actions are completely different!"

Tobirama responded with two cold, emotionless laughs: "Heh."

Hashirama broke out in a cold sweat from Tobirama's laughter: "Tobirama, didn't you just say you weren't so petty as to put aside personal grudges? How come you're saying this now..."

Tobirama remained expressionless: "My temperament is adaptable."

Hashirama: "......"

Finally, the thorny issue of how to "guide" Yoriichi Senju was left unresolved due to Tobirama's stubbornness and Hashirama's helplessness.

Hashirama was easygoing; although he found it a bit strange, he didn't really see Yoriichi's unusual behavior as some kind of imminent crisis.

Tobirama, on the other hand, was completely different. He took this matter to heart, as if it were a dangerous item with the highest priority on his to-do list.

However, he hasn't come up with a foolproof plan yet. All he can say is to strengthen his attention and control over Yoriichi. He must keep a close eye on this seemingly strange genius of his own and never let him have another chance to get close to Uchiha Kokusatsu.

Meanwhile, in the Daimyo's Mansion of the Land of Fire.

Yan Sheng finally made a decision: he planned to stay away from Senju Yoriichi.

However, while the decision was made, its execution proved to be fraught with difficulties.

His thoughts kept drifting uncontrollably towards Konoha, towards the child with clear eyes who clung tightly to his sleeve and called him "brother".

The youthful yet determined face of Senju Yoriichi kept overlapping and intersecting with the blurry yet clear figure deep in his memory, disturbing his peace of mind.

Yan Sheng was almost speechless with frustration at his own out-of-control state.

When did he become so indecisive and easily distracted by external things?

To escape this predicament, he decided to find something to do and forcibly distract himself.

So he came to a house that had been secretly built not long ago, located near Daming Prefecture.

The house nominally belongs to a wealthy businessman, but in reality, it is a place he uses to conduct secret experiments or store special items. It is surrounded by layers of powerful barriers to prevent prying eyes.

And now, this place has come in handy.

Yan Sheng went into the basement, activated several binding runes, and then opened the container that sealed Hei Jue.

A dark, viscous shadow surged out instantly, trying to escape. But how could it possibly escape? Yan Sheng didn't move at all; with just a thought, the surrounding barrier flickered slightly, and the invisible force, like the most solid cage, bound Black Jue firmly to the spot, no matter how it twisted and struggled, it was all in vain.

As Black Zetsu struggled fiercely, something fell off its body with a soft "thud" and landed on the cold ground.

Yan Sheng initially paid no attention, his gaze still coldly scrutinizing the futile struggle of Hei Jue. But when his peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of that thing, his gaze instantly froze, and his entire body stiffened.

To be honest, it was just an ordinary wooden flute.

The workmanship could even be described as somewhat rough, without any fancy decorations. It looks like something a child casually carved or a clumsy practice piece by a beginner.

It lay quietly on the ground, inconspicuous.

However, it was this ordinary wooden flute that shook Yan Sheng to his core.

Because he recognized him.

This flute... is clearly the one he made by hand and gave to Yoriichi back then, when he was still Kokushikatsu Tsugikuni and Yoriichi was just a younger brother who was disliked by his father and kept in a secluded courtyard.

He remembered feeling sorry for Yoriichi back then, living in such circumstances without even a decent toy. With a heart full of sympathy and pity, he personally carved this flute.

When Yoriichi received it, his usually calm and unwavering eyes suddenly shone with an unprecedented brilliance, as if they were filled with starlight.

He gripped the rough wooden flute tightly and said in an extremely serious tone, as if making a vow, "Thank you, brother. I will keep it safe forever."

At that time, the young boy turned his face away shyly and said, "What's the point of keeping it? It was made for you to use. You can blow on it and play with it when you're bored. It doesn't matter if you break it, I'll just make you another one."

Not long after he finished speaking, he became preoccupied with sword practice, family affairs, and other more exquisite and presentable gifts, and had long forgotten about this rough, first attempt at making a handmade flute.

Later, he gave Yoriichi many other things, sweet candies, exquisite commercial toys... each one was much more beautiful than that wooden flute.

He thought Yoriichi would prefer those.

When did he realize that Yoriichi had truly kept his word and "treasured" that rough wooden flute forever?

...

...

It was at the very end.

He has fallen into the realm of the dead, retaining a twisted youth, while his younger brother, Yoriichi Tsugikuni, is now an old man with a face etched with the wrinkles of time. Only his eyes remain clear and bright, still able to see through all his baseness and struggles.

They fought their final battle.

Yoriichi suddenly stopped moving for some unknown reason.

But he didn't stop; he continued to deliver the fatal blow.

Yoriichi's body was cut in two, and his blood stained the ground red.

As Yoriichi fell, something rolled out from his blood-stained clothes and snapped in two with a "crack".

It was that wooden flute.

That rough, childish wooden flute that he had long forgotten.

It is extremely well preserved; despite the passage of decades, its original form is still visible, and it seems to be free of even a speck of dust.

It lay there, broken along with its owner, lying quietly on the cold earth, silently telling the story of a promise cherished for a lifetime.

"I will keep it safe forever."

At that moment, a tremendous, indescribable shock swept over Yan Sheng like a tsunami. He stared blankly at the two broken flute pieces, his mind a complete blank, followed by a turbulent mix of shock, regret, jealousy, and self-loathing.

He suddenly remembered that not long after he gave him the flute, Yoriichi had also carved a wooden flute in his own style and given it to him.

But what about him?

He had no idea where he had put the flute that Yoriichi had given him. Perhaps it was after a sword practice session, or perhaps it was while tidying up his belongings. In any case, he had never really cared about it. He had long since forgotten how he had discarded it like a useless piece of junk, leaving it in a corner of his memory, never to be found again.

One was casually discarded by him, while the other was treasured by the other until death.

......

Yan Sheng stared intently at the wooden flute on the ground, which was exactly the same as the one from Black Judgment that made every second feel like an eternity in his memory. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, and his heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, causing him so much pain that he could hardly breathe.

The past that he had forcibly suppressed and tried to distance himself from, like a flood bursting its banks, overwhelmed him with destructive power.

Black Zetsu noticed his momentary lapse in concentration and the violent fluctuations in his aura, and struggled even more fiercely, emitting hoarse and indistinct sounds.

But Yan Sheng no longer had time to deal with it.

Yoriichi.

This name, like the most vicious curse, relentlessly crushed the most festering wound in his heart.

That crude gadget, which he had casually given away and long forgotten, was treasured by his younger brother, whom he had envied and pursued his entire life, like a priceless gem.

An intense mix of bitterness, sharp self-loathing, and unvented anger surged and burned within him like magma, threatening to consume him completely from the inside out.

Yoriichi's image uncontrollably appeared in his mind.

That person has been like that since childhood. Despite possessing talent akin to that of a child of God, he has never been arrogant about it; despite being treated unfairly and imprisoned in a small space, his eyes remain pure, as if they can encompass everything in the world, yet also as if he cares about nothing at all.

And him?

As the heir to the family business, he diligently cultivates himself, strictly adheres to the rules, and makes unimaginable efforts, all in order to gain his father's approval and shoulder the responsibilities of the heir.

He thought he was glamorous and worthy of pride. But in the face of that true, innate "sun," which required no effort, all his efforts seemed so laughable and so pale and powerless.

Everything he painstakingly pursued seemed to be shrouded in a dark shadow under Yoriichi's pure light.

Yoriichi is like the sun high in the sky—bright, fiery, and upright.

His very existence was a silent declaration, reflecting all the narrow-mindedness, struggles, and wretchedness of Yan Sheng, who succeeded Guo. The light was too dazzling, so dazzling that he could not look directly at it, and could only curl up in the shadows, wrapping himself up with layers of jealousy and resentment.

He was like a vile insect in the darkness.

Betray your lord, betray humanity, betray your family, betray (abandon) everything you can betray (abandon). You think that in this way you can gain power that surpasses your opponent, you think that in this way you can get rid of that ever-present shadow.

But the result was—

He didn't win in the end; he suffered a complete defeat.

...

...

The capital of the Land of Fire.

The towering city walls cast long shadows in the setting sun. As the capital of a country, it was naturally heavily guarded, with strict rules governing entry and exit.

However, the rules are always broken by certain special beings.

A figure, as nimble as a young deer in the mountains, silently scaled the tall city wall.

It was a little boy with a ponytail, his figure still immature, but his movements were fluid and precise far beyond his age, as if he knew by nature how to mobilize all the muscles in his body and how to achieve his goal with minimal force.

He landed lightly on the wall, his gaze calmly sweeping over the rows of buildings in the city, and then leaped down without hesitation—without a permit, this was clearly the fastest way to enter the city.

Just as his feet were about to touch the ground, a gentle yet irresistible force came from behind him.

A long, strong hand gripped the back of his neck by the collar, lifting him up easily like an eagle catching a chick, leaving him suspended in mid-air.

The boy's body tensed instinctively for a moment, but because he did not sense any malice or murderous intent, and the force was well controlled, it only stopped his actions and did not make him feel uncomfortable.

Therefore, he obediently let the other person carry him, and slowly turned his head to look at the owner of the hand.

It was a woman.

A very beautiful woman.

She had long, smooth, jet-black hair, part of which was styled into an elegant bun at the back of her head, while the rest was left to fall naturally, making her skin appear even whiter. Her features were exquisite, like a work of art meticulously sculpted by a craftsman, and her brows carried a calm and refined elegance born from experience.

What's most striking are her deep black eyes, which are now scrutinizing the audacious little creature that has scaled the city wall, with a hint of scrutiny and barely perceptible surprise.

However, the boy didn't have much of a concept of beauty or ugliness, nor did he care. What completely stopped his thoughts of resistance was a mysterious feeling—he felt an inexplicable sense of intimacy with this woman.

So he gave up struggling, and without showing the panic or anger that an ordinary child would show when caught red-handed, he simply looked back at the woman calmly with his clear, unwavering eyes, which seemed to reflect the very essence of a person's heart, and then said in an honest tone:

"I'm here to find someone."

"Looking for someone?" the woman repeated, her tone tinged with inquiry. "Who are you looking for? And, little one, hasn't anyone told you that you need a travel permit to enter the capital? Climbing over the city walls is a violation of the law."

The boy remained calm as he looked at her, showing no reaction to the accusation of "breaking the law," and continued, "The person I'm looking for is Uchiha Kokusatsu."

Um?

Who should I contact?

“Uchiha... Yan Sheng?” She slowly repeated the name, her gaze fixed on the boy’s unblinking, earnest eyes. “What do you want with him?”

-----------------------

Author's Note: Thousand Hands, Mischievous Child, Yoriichi: No one (hands together) can confine me (raises index finger).

The older brother's mentality collapses whenever he meets the younger brother.

I saw some comments saying they wanted to see the brothers' daily interactions. Yes, brothers, here it is! [doge emoji with rose in hand]