Chapter 467: Settling Old and New Grievances Together (5)

Chapter 467: Settling Old and New Grudges (Part Five)

When Fujitomi Yajō stepped into the official hall, the dark fissures writhing on the faceless skull fell into a brief calm, though it did not last long, eventually curling into a subtle arc.

"Another meeting, Fujitomi!"

"Indeed, another meeting."

Fujitomi Yajō's voice was light, the pent-up resentment in his chest making him feel, for the first time, how difficult it was to speak.

Though he had already guessed this outcome, seeing it with his own eyes, hearing that familiar voice again, Fujitomi Yajō still felt the absurdity and bitterness.

Fujitomi Yajō let out a self-deprecating laugh, yet this simple gesture sent chills down Tokugawa Hōshi's spine, prompting him to silently remain vigilant.

From his understanding of Fujitomi Yajō, he feared he would face a storm of attacks, unrelenting until death.

But to Tokugawa Hōshi's surprise, the old friend before him made no aggressive move, not even a furious question—only sitting quietly with hands on his knees, kneeling outside the hall.

He had changed.

Tokugawa Hōshi's mind suddenly flashed this thought, and his taut nerves slightly relaxed.

It seemed recent events had altered the other's perspective. Regardless of the aspect, at least now, Fujitomi Yajō's hatred toward him was not so intense.

Perhaps, if he could provide the answer the other sought, he might reclaim this once most capable left and right arm.

As for answers, it was as simple as it could be for him.

Tokugawa Hōshi clumsily manipulated the carved seal beneath him, deliberately letting his current body stagger and fall into the chair, swaying left and right, nearly toppling to the ground.

He opened two slits that could not be called 'eyes,' yet in the instant before speaking, he inexplicably felt the scene before him oddly familiar, though he could not recall when he had seen it.

This momentary hesitation allowed Fujitomi Yajō, kneeling on the ground, to speak first.

"All these years, I have regarded you as my master. No matter how many secrets you kept from me, my loyalty to you never wavered. You were my guiding star. When I learned that the Jinyiwei had moved against you, I once blamed myself for my delayed rescue, unable to forgive my own tardiness."

"You need not blame yourself. Su Ce had already plotted to kill me. I was destined to die. If you had acted rashly then, you would have only added another life to the tally."

Fujitomi Yajō ignored Tokugawa Hōshi's consolation, speaking calmly: "When the Jinyiwei declared you eradicated under the charge of rebellion, I still believed you were framed, betrayed by that woman, Mei Zhihong."

"Thus, I unhesitatingly chose to make another decision—one I had once most despised."

"You..."

"I once again prostrated myself before the courtiers, begging and pleading, personally offering the Sanshō Heavy Industries I had managed all my life, just to secure a chance to avenge you."

Fujitomi Yajō's voice suddenly sank, his features contorting in rage, his furious gaze mingling with unspeakable sorrow.

"Tokugawa Hōshi, why did you not truly die?"

"Because I cannot die yet."

Tokugawa Hōshi replied without hesitation: "I cannot let our unfinished grand enterprise perish in the hands of two traitors."

"But those two traitors were ones you personally elevated!"

Tokugawa Hōshi tried to close his eyes in feigned anguish, but suddenly remembered his current state could not convey such emotion through expression. He could only speak with a helpless tone: "The reasons are complex. I will explain them in detail later."

"Today, now!"

Fujitomi Yajō's expression was resolute, his stance unyielding.

"Whether it be those court orders or the Jinyiwei, today no one dares approach here. We have enough time."

Though Tokugawa Hōshi did not know where Fujitomi Yajō found such confidence, it was clear that to pass this trial, he must dispel some of the doubts in Fujitomi Yajō's heart.

"The true form of Mei Zhihong is a Huangliang ghost, which you should have known long ago. Yet she was not cultivated by Huang Shilie himself. Such a Huangliang ghost could not possess the ability to usurp the real 'Mei Zhihong' in silence, replacing her without a trace."

Tokugawa Hōshi emphasized: "She was a gift, or rather, an experimental subject, sent to Huang Shilie by someone."

"By whom?"

"I do not know, only that he was a high-ranking figure from the Eastern Palace's Yin-Yang sect."

Fujitomi Yajō did not dwell on the identity of this so-called 'high-ranking figure,' but asked directly: "Since you knew the other party had ulterior motives, why did you not eliminate that Huangliang ghost early on, instead allowing her to deceive Huang Shilie, even seizing control of the entire Mei clan?"

Tokugawa Hōshi clearly disliked such probing questions, especially from one who had once obeyed him without question.

"The Mei clan was originally part of the Yin-Yang sect. This is an internal matter of their faction; we have no right to interfere. Moreover, if we meddled, the next to be possessed might be you and me!"

He deliberately enunciated each word, hinting at the danger within.

"There is one more thing you have not mentioned."

Fujitomi Yajō slowly continued: "Huang Shilie was cultivated by the Yellow Heaven Gate as a medicinal herb to heal their injuries. Eventually, his organs would be harvested. Such an inescapable fate warped his mind, making it grotesque and bloodthirsty."

"The appearance of this Huangliang ghost provided him with an emotional anchor, equivalent to placing a collar on this untamed beast of his, giving him a fatal weakness easily exploited. This is a great boon for you."

A single strike hit the mark, piercing to the core.

Tokugawa Hōshi neither confirmed nor denied, forcing a wry smile: "Fujitomi, you have truly changed."

"Changed?"

Fujitomi Yajō shook his head, continuing to ask: "The Honghu Clan of Kamakura?"

"A hollow shell, controlled in rotation by the other three families. It handles minor troubles while diverting the attention of the Jinyiwei and the Xuanwei Office. This was kept from you to protect you. Your temperament is unsuited for such tasks."

"So the Takamagahara is also a hollow shell? Or merely a bargaining chip for you?"

Fujitomi Yajō's tone revealed no joy or anger.

"Takamagahara is real, but not to obscure the empire's gaze—it is to ignite the conflict between the Daoist and Confucian factions, thus disrupting the entire Wa region's situation. Only through chaos can we find opportunity!"

"Opportunity?"

Fujitomi Yajō let out a self-mocking smile, no longer clouded by the fervor of old. Now, he saw everything with crystal clarity, and equally profound despair.

"We are but ants that can be crushed at any moment. Even if these two tigers and leopards fight to the death, we still cannot cross the rivers of their spilled blood. What right do we have to tear into their flesh and blood?"

"Though we are ants, we have an absolute numerical advantage. That is the true value of the Wa region. No matter who wins in the end, the Wa region will break free from the Confucian faction's control. In the end, they will need us to govern the millions of people here. Then we too can have room to maneuver!"

"That is but a puppet."

"Yet it is also revival! At least we have taken the first step—no longer swine to be slaughtered at will in the hands of the New Donglin!"

Unlike Fujitomi Yajō's calm, Tokugawa Hōshi's voice brimmed with fiery elation.

"If things proceed smoothly, I will arrange for you to switch factions, joining one of them. From within, we can gradually cultivate our own strength."

Tokugawa Hōshi exclaimed excitedly: "Within the empire's vast territory, the Wa region is but a tiny speck. Though it seems to be the focal point of the storm now, such fleeting attention will eventually fade. When their focus shifts to other, more vital matters, we will have ample time to grow. When a crucial turning point arrives, we can rise to power and achieve the true revival of Wa!"

"But the implementation of the new policies will cause the Wa people to slowly forget their roots. By the time your so-called turning point comes, will we still be ourselves?"

Fujitomi Yajō spoke painfully: "You once said that the path we chose was destined to be paved with lives and corpses. I never feared that, even if I had to kneel before the court again. But if they have completely forgotten Wa, what meaning remains in our actions?"

"The new policies only sacrifice a portion of the lowly masses. Within a few generations, we can lead them back to their true selves."

Tokugawa Hōshi's voice suddenly twisted and trembled, then fell silent.

The cracks on that eerie face continued to open and close, emitting Mei Zhihong's urgent, anxious voice: "Fujitomi Yajō, he speaks these things only to delay time, to devour me completely! Tokugawa Hōshi has been deceiving you from the start. He still manipulates you!"

Sssss!

Another crack appeared on the 'mouth,' and Tokugawa Hōshi's sinister voice rang out: "Huangliang ghost, you seek to reclaim dominance through Fujitomi's hand? You are not human—you do not understand the emotions and trust between people. I and Fujitomi have weathered decades of storms together. Do you think he would believe you?"

The lower 'mouth' retorted sharply: "Trust? He is but a tool in your eyes, a loyal hound. When have you ever trusted him?"

From above, the 'mouth' declared with solemn certainty: 'Concealment is not deceit, but another form of absolute trust. The only mistake I made was underestimating your ambition, which has driven events to this catastrophic pass!'

The clash of dialogue unfolds within a single body, yet the focal interlocutor, Toyotomi Harukuni, remains unmoved.

The only change is that his spine can no longer stand as straight as before; it now bends like a wizened elder in his twilight years.

"Toyotomi Harukuni, you must not forget—he is a man of the Horizontal Sequence."

A sharp, piercing female voice shrieked the final words, then vanished once more.

As if in an unseen contest for authority, Tokugawa Hiroshige once again seized the upper hand, reclaiming control of this very body.

"They are not base, ignorant folk." The elder Toyotomi spoke with calm, unwavering resolve.

"Whether you call it good or bad, I have no intention of debating. But understand this: this path is destined to be strewn with white bones; a thousand deaths are but a number, ten thousand, a hundred thousand—still just numbers. Such an ending we cannot alter!"

Perhaps, as the struggle for permission draws to a close, Tokugawa's dread of Harukuni wanes, his former softness giving way to hardened resolve.

"Have you ever considered whether they would consent?"

"When the Yamato fell, did they not simply accept their fate?"

Tokugawa's voice grew ever more impatient: 'We have become the Sequence because our genes compel us to decide how they survive; it is our duty! Do you still not see this?'

Harukuni knelt silently, answering with quietude.

Tokugawa, stirred by his silence, snarled: 'You wish to know the truth; I have laid it all before you. Believe, and we shall sail together through storm and calm. Doubt, and if you think the mad yellow‑grain demon speaks true, that I still scheme against you—then strike me down!'

"An unyielding sunrise will tear the darkness, and a barren world shall herald spring! Harukuni, have you forgotten the oath we once swore?"

"I have not forgotten, not once. Yet I truly cannot fathom the human heart."

Harukuni's voice carried a heavy bitterness: 'Their lives should not be tethered by men such as us. Sir, we have already lost; surrender.'

"You have no right to utter the word 'surrender' to me!"

Tokugawa roared: 'In the day you bowed before the enemy's gun, you willingly became their dog. You thought you protected them, but do you not know they would devour your flesh and drink your blood? It was I who saved you, who gave you a chance to wash away disgrace! After years of silent endurance, hope now flickers—yet you tell me to yield? What right have you?'

Buzz!

The hum of the mechanical heart and the activation chant of the talismans rose together, but unable to reconcile, the negotiation devolved into a chilling threat.

"We are both unqualified, for we are cut from the same selfish cloth—you for greed, I for honor. Our sins are equally unforgivable."

Harukuni's half‑shattered visage bore a detached smile: 'Deception and deceit I no longer wish to tally; if you think my life was saved by you, then I return it now. Sir, this time, let this humble one guide you back.'

The shattered feathered scroll opened, revealing a void where a crimson heart beat furiously.

This is the mechanical heart that Harukuni exchanged for all of Sanchuan Heavy Industries and the Toyotomi clan.

A heart ill‑suited for combat, yet capable of razing an entire city—an elite grade‑four artifact.

War‑lord Landosun!

A scream of terror shattered in Tokugawa's ears, the genetic instinct urging him to flee.

A tide of fear drowned Tokugawa's mind; the destined failure of the wise, Seisho, seized the moment.

"Kill him, kill him quickly!"

"Be silent!"

Tokugawa shouted, and talismans whistled toward Harukuni.

"Timid, foolish wretch, you are forever the sin of the Yamato people!"

Buzz!

Harukuni thrust his lone arm into the mechanical heart, tearing it apart, then hurled it forward.

The flying talisman, confronting that mingled flesh and blood, fell trembling like a prey to a predator.

Molten patterns spread across his body, searing every sinew to ash, reducing him to a laughing skeletal flame.

"Our death should not bring further harm to the innocent."

Watching the ever‑piercing red glow, Tokugawa ceased his mad cries.

Until this moment, he finally understood why the sight of Harukuni kneeling at the gate seemed so familiar.

On the day Yamato fell, he too knelt on the shrine steps, a visage of desolation.

I sat enthroned, solemnly promising him I would bring him back to his nation.

I would.

"That old uncle—surely he is dead by now?"

Xiazi swallowed nervously, taking a sip of saliva, carefully peering at the silent Ministry of Inspection office across the way, where fearsome officials and guards had vanished.

In days past, this place was a forbidden zone she could not approach.

But today, she resolved to risk everything for future wealth and splendor.

Xiazi lowered her head, biting the tube at her wrist, drawing a hot draught that scalded her lungs; the special drug within amplified her dwindling courage to its zenith.

She stepped like a cat, padding up the towering steps; the initial timidity and caution vanished after a few strides. Xiazi lifted her chin, exuded confidence, her brows alight with concealed joy.

It seemed a boundless fortune awaited her at the stair's end.

Step.

Upon reaching the final tier, Xiazi truly saw the light.

But it was not the golden symbol of wealth; it was a blinding crimson.

Boom!!!

On Tianbao Mountain, drenched in blood, the war‑spirit clasped the raging spear with a bare hand; the war‑spirit, suddenly whimsical, disregarded the feral rage of Li Jun below, turning abruptly to gaze far down the mountain.

In the void, the already oil‑exhausted Lady Yuan Mingfei finally seized the moment, and after the Buddha’s realm scattered, she fell into a deep slumber.

The endless storm ceased; the scorching night wind brushed his face.

The war‑spirit's tiger eyes burned crimson, fixated on the raging flame rising in the city.

"Haruhisa!!"

Buzz!

The spear‑hand, tearing the restraint, drove violently into his abdomen!