Chapter 19
The restaurant in the backyard of the dojo is spacious and bright, with a view of the well-maintained courtyard outside the window.
The long dining table was laden with a hearty and simple Japanese meal, steaming hot and fragrant. After two intense battles, our stomachs were already empty, but the aroma of the food whetted our appetites.
Hiyoshi had just taken the main seat, inviting everyone to eat with a magnanimous air, and was clearly in a very good mood. However, his eyes kept falling on me, his admiration evident in his words.
"Wushan girl, eat more! This tempura is our chef's specialty!"
He enthusiastically helped me with a large piece of fried shrimp. Then, changing the subject, with the undisguised curiosity and appreciation that only an elder could muster, he asked with a smile, "Judging from your age, you should be around the same age as Ruo, right? How do you like being at Hyotei? What kind of environment do you prefer?"
"Although our Hiyoshi family's old dojo is a bit old, it's quiet and convenient for practicing..."
The direction of this topic... My heart skipped a beat and my chopsticks paused.
Hiyoshi Wakaba, who was sitting next to him, was busy eating. When he heard this, the tips of his ears turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye. His eating movements froze and he buried his head even lower.
Oshitari elegantly picked up a piece of grilled fish, and his eyes behind the glasses swept back and forth between the three of us. He had that standard, all-seeing fox smile on his lips, and he obviously found this situation extremely amusing.
Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi seemed completely oblivious to his son's embarrassment, or perhaps simply unconcerned, and continued cheerfully, "Young people, it's always good to communicate more! This kid may be a bit dull, but he's quite diligent in his training..."
This intention couldn't be more obvious.
I put down my chopsticks, keeping a decent smile on my face, but my mind was thinking quickly.
It's not polite to bluntly reject an elder's kindness, especially one who had just acknowledged my martial arts prowess. An idea struck me, and I remembered my master's stern face and those old-fashioned rules.
"Thank you for your concern, Senior." I spoke in a clear voice, with just the right amount of apology and helplessness, looking directly at Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi, "Hyotei is good, and Hiyoshi Dojo is also good. It's just..."
I sighed slightly and my tone became serious. "My elders are very strict, especially when it comes to martial arts. There are many rules."
"The most important one is that I must concentrate on martial arts and studies before I turn eighteen and not be distracted." I said it sincerely with a frank look in my eyes, as if there really was such a stern elder watching me from behind.
"Uh... I see." Hiyoshi's smile faltered, clearly not expecting that explanation. He looked at me with a hint of understanding and regret. "That's a shame. But we do need to listen to the advice of our elders."
He turned around and glared at his son who was still pretending to be an ostrich, and snorted in disappointment.
Hiyoshiwaka's shoulders seemed to slump even further.
Just when Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi seemed to want to say something else, like "Can we get to know each other first?" -
"Uncle Hiyoshi."
A gorgeous, low voice with an undeniable presence interrupted at the perfect moment, successfully interrupting what Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi was about to say.
Atobe Keigo put down his bowl of soup and elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. He looked at Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi at the main seat with a serious and formal expression, instantly bringing the topic back to the "business" channel.
"Regarding the proposal that I mentioned to you before, that the Atobe Foundation is interested in sponsoring a national ancient martial arts exchange competition," Atobe's tone was calm, with the logic and persuasiveness unique to business elites.
"We plan to invite top disciples and dojos from various schools to participate, aiming to promote the spirit of traditional martial arts and foster exchange. Given your reputation and status in the Kanto ancient martial arts community, the organizing committee hopes to have the honor of inviting you to serve as the chief judge."
He paused, his eyes seemingly casually sweeping across the table, but in fact, they were accurately scanning me. "Uncle, what are your thoughts? I've had the competition's rules and preliminary budget sorted out, and I can review them for you later."
A national ancient martial arts exchange competition?
This word was like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating a huge wave in my heart.
A gathering of masters from various Japanese schools? A true peak showdown?
Just imagining that scene, an irrepressible excitement and desire rushed from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. My fingertips even felt slightly numb due to the excitement, and even my breathing became a little faster.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
I raised my head almost subconsciously and looked at Keigo Atobe who was talking with burning eyes.
His face was slightly flushed due to the residual heat of the battle just now and the excitement of hearing the good news. His eyes were surprisingly bright, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but rise up, revealing an extremely bright and expectant smile.
"Atobe-san, are you serious? The national competition?" I couldn't help but ask for confirmation, my voice filled with undisguised excitement and eagerness. I completely forgot about the subtle atmosphere at the dinner table just now, staring at him without blinking, waiting for his answer.
This is the best news I've heard all day, even better than winning two fights!
Atobe paused slightly as he was explaining the sponsorship details.
He clearly caught the instantaneous lightening up of my eyes, the radiant smile on my face, and the unguarded, trusting, and eager gaze that fixed directly on him, filled with a pure, immense joy for him that he had never seen in my eyes before.
An extremely subtle, almost imperceptible electric current suddenly ran through the tip of Tebe's heart, bringing with it a strange numbness and an indescribable joy.
Beneath his glamorous exterior, the slight discomfort he'd felt at Hiyoshi's attempt to bring them together vanished instantly, replaced by a sense of satisfaction at being flattered by this bright smile. He even felt a subtle warmth building in his ears.
"Yes." Atobe maintained his composure and nodded slightly. His voice seemed a little softer than before, but his eyes looked back at me deeply, as if he wanted to record my surprise. "The preliminary plan has been launched, aiming to discover and promote the true essence of martial arts."
He deliberately emphasized the word "real", his eyes full of meaning.
Then, as if to conceal his momentary distraction, he quickly turned his gaze to Hiyoshi Tsuyoshi, his tone becoming formal and steady again: "So, Uncle Hiyoshi, your opinion is crucial. Your participation will be a vital guarantee for the authority and influence of this competition."
As he spoke, he used the corner of his eye to accurately capture every change in my expression of excitement over the "National Competition." A corner of Atobe's heart also quietly lit up, like a corner warmed by the sun, and it felt a little itchy.
Oshitari drank the flavored soup slowly, his blue eyes behind the glasses moving back and forth between Atobe's pretended calm but slightly shining eyes and my unconcealed excited smile, and he understood.
After bidding farewell to Hiyoshi and his son who had tried so hard to keep me, and sitting in the back seat of Atobe's ridiculously long black Bentley, which had an astonishingly luxurious interior, I truly felt the soreness coming from deep within my muscles. The two high-intensity battles had indeed consumed a lot of energy.
The car was filled with a light, crisp pine scent that matched the scent of Atobe's body, mixed with the smell of leather seats, which actually soothed people's tense nerves a lot.
Oshitari sat in the passenger seat, his blue eyes gleaming with inquiry through the rearview mirror. The car smoothly drove out of the ancient dojo area and merged into the city traffic.
"Kirishama-san," Oshitari's voice broke the silence in the car. With his usual lazy tone, as if he was just chatting casually, but the question went straight to the point, "There's a question I've always been curious about."
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes behind the glasses scrutinizing, "Since you have such skills... why on the rooftop that day, facing the bullying of those people, you chose... to get beaten?" He chose his words carefully, but the meaning was obvious.
Um?
I leaned back in the soft leather seat, my eyes fixed on the rapidly receding neon lights outside the car window. His tone was as calm as if he were talking about someone else: "Those who practice martial arts don't attack ordinary people."
"Oh?" Oshitari was clearly dissatisfied with this answer, or rather, wanted to dig deeper into the underlying motives. "Even if the other party provoked or even attacked?"
"Bullying is shameful." My voice calmed down, carrying an unquestionable certainty. "But if I were to fight violence with violence, using the 'power' in my hands to crush them simply because they are shameful, then I would truly be betraying the very purpose of my martial arts training."
"What's your original intention?" Oshitari caught on to this word and asked.
I turned my head, meeting his searching gaze with clear eyes, and articulated the conviction etched deep in my bones: "I hold the whip in my hand to protect those I want to protect, to guard what I believe is worth guarding, and to be able to stand up when strength is truly needed. It is not to bully the weak or vent my own personal grievances."
This sentence is the commandment that my master has engraved in my heart since I was a child.
The air in the car seemed to settle for a moment at these words. In the front seat, Oshitari pushed his glasses up thoughtfully, but didn't ask any further questions.
Just then, I felt the gaze of Atobe next to me fall on me.
His gaze was deep and focused, carrying an unprecedented seriousness. He seemed to want to say something, his lips moving slightly, and his eyes were filled with complex emotions, perhaps agreement, perhaps exploration, or perhaps something deeper.
However, before he could open his mouth——
My cell phone rang suddenly, its ringing ringing ringing loud and clear in the quiet of the train car. The name "Tanaka Rie" flashed on the screen.
"Moshimoshi?" I picked up the phone.
"Kiriyama~" Rie's voice came through the receiver, "Have you chosen your yukata for the fireworks display? What color? What pattern? Let's pick it out together! That way we'll have it perfect for the photos!"
A yukata for a fireworks display? I was stunned.
To be honest, I really know nothing about these exquisite Japanese gadgets.
"Uh... color? Pattern?" I repeated somewhat blankly, my eyes subconsciously roaming around the car, as if I could find some inspiration out of thin air.
His eyes accidentally swept over Keigo Atobe who was sitting next to him.
He was wearing that dark kimono today, with his coat casually draped aside. The plain kimono underneath was embroidered with extremely delicate, faint bamboo leaf patterns in silver thread, which exuded unparalleled luxury and elegance in a low-key manner.
"Hmm...as for the pattern..." I looked at the elegant bamboo pattern on Atobe's clothes and said it to the other end of the phone without thinking, "Like that...dark pattern of bamboo leaves? It seems very beautiful, simple and elegant and graceful..."
After I finished speaking, I realized what I had said and subconsciously glanced at Atobe next to me.
As if he had heard what I said, his gaze, which was originally looking at me, moved slightly and fell on the bamboo pattern on his sleeve. Then he looked up at me again, and the corners of his mouth seemed to bend upwards almost imperceptibly, and then he quickly regained his composure.
"Ah! Bamboo leaf pattern? Simple and elegant? Kiriyama, you actually like this style? So tasteful!" Rie chattered excitedly on the other end of the phone, "No problem! Leave it to me! I promise to find you something super beautiful! That's a deal! Bye!"
She hung up the phone in a hurry.
I put my phone away, and the car returned to silence. Atobe's subtle expression just now made me feel a little uncomfortable, and I was wondering if I should explain that I was just saying it casually.
"Fireworks display," Atobe's deep, elegant voice broke the silence. He tilted his head, his gaze resting on my face again, a hint of inquiry in his voice, "Next week?"
"Yeah, the week after next." I nodded and added casually, "But before that, I still have to go to Rikkai University this weekend."
"Rikkai University?" Atobe raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Well, I'm going to visit Sanada-san who I met last time on the tennis court." I thought of the deputy director of Rikkai University who was as imposing as a mountain and had a fierce playing style, and my tone was very natural.
"Sanada... Genichirō?" Atobe's voice was very calm, without even a hint of emotion.
"Yes." I responded.
However, the moment the name "Sanada Genichirō" came down—
An invisible, icy low pressure, like a sudden cold wave, instantly swept across the entire back seat of the Bentley. The air seemed to solidify, and even the noisy city noise outside the car window seemed to be isolated.
I shuddered subconsciously, and the hair on my arms stood up.
What's going on? Is the air conditioner on too low?
I looked at Atobe Keigo in confusion.
He didn't look at me, but tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the rapidly passing night scene outside the car window. The lines of his face appeared unusually cold and hard in the flickering light and shadow, his jawline tense. His hands rested on his knees, his knuckles slightly bent, and in the dim light, he seemed to be exerting some force.
Oshitari, sitting in the front passenger seat, stiffened visibly for a moment. He turned his head very slowly, his blue eyes behind his glasses meeting my astonished gaze in the rearview mirror for a moment.
He gave me an extremely subtle expression, a mixture of "good luck to you", "as expected" and "this is going to be exciting", then quickly turned his head, pushed his glasses, and pretended to study the scenery outside the car window, as if nothing had happened.
The temperature in the car dropped to freezing point in an instant.
And I realized belatedly that—
It seems... I said something wrong?
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
