Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

The season was spring, with plum blossoms at their peak; the location was the shores of Lake Suwa in Shinano Province.

There stood a single tea house.

A samurai slipped in.
Field hakama trousers and a deep woven sedge hat; magnificent long and short swords adorned with gold and silver; an iron fan gripped firmly in hand—his footwork precise, his body movements fluid, truly a consummate master of martial arts.

“Fine weather,” he remarked. “I’ll have some tea.”

With a light thud, he settled onto the seating platform.
Within his gentle voice lay an unassailable dignity.
His demeanor was composed and dignified.
There was no doubt he was of distinguished status.
He had the air of a high-ranking hatamoto on a pleasure excursion—something along those lines.

“Welcome, good sir! Please come in.”

The tea house proprietress bowed her head and deferentially served bitter tea. He slowly lifted it beneath his hat and quietly moistened his throat—those hands of his, white and smooth, resembled a woman’s delicate fingers. While drinking tea, the samurai seemed to gaze at the lake scenery. The current circumference of four ri refers to modern times; Lake Suwa during the Keian era must have been far more expansive. When one comes to Kinugasaki in Shinano: fishing boats rowing over Mount Fuji’s reflection. They claim it’s a poem by Saigyō Hōshi, but that is utterly, utterly false. How could Saigyō Hōshi, the Poet-Saint himself, compose such a trite, formulaic verse without a shred of dignity?

Yet Kinugasaki was a peerless vista within Lake Suwa.
Mount Fuji was reflected upside down.
Fishing boats rowed over its surface.
Kinugasaki came into full view ahead.

Jutting into the water was Takashima Castle; though a minor daimyō of forty thousand koku, the Suwa family was nonetheless a lineage of considerable prestige.
The stone wall was reflected on the lake surface.

"Hmm, splendid. A fine view indeed."

The samurai gazed in rapt absorption.
The hour was midday in joyous spring; heat haze rose from the snow-thawed ground, shimmering as it ascended into the sky.
Yet the mountains were pure white.
Right up to the immediate vicinity, snow had piled up.

Recalling Kiso in April and its cherry blossom hunts.

This was the so-called poem by the venerable poet.
As poems by the venerable poet go, it was rather poor.
Yet how cold the Kiso region of Shinshu truly was—this single poem exemplified that.
In olden times, April would correspond to May today; if cherry blossom hunts were held in May [under that system], this would indeed have been cold.
By the way, Suwa was no different.
Indeed, it was just as cold as Kiso.

The samurai addressed the old woman.

“Any stories to share?
“Any interesting stories?”

“Oh… oh…”

Though she spoke, the tea house proprietress—utterly overwhelmed by her customer’s imposing presence—had been shrinking back since earlier and could scarcely manage a proper reply.

“Indeed, sir… Nothing particularly unusual comes to mind…”

“It can’t be that there’s nothing.
There must be… That story about the renowned Go Lake Immortal…”

Just as he spoke these words, a loud splash resounded from nearby.

The samurai turned his gaze toward it.

And there, in the lake waters below, an old man stood treading water alone.

Swimming in this cold season?!
Even allowing that, judging by his appearance—eighty or ninety years old?—it was impossible to tell at a glance.
But for such an elderly man to be swimming—he couldn’t help but be startled.

“They say the people of Shinshu are patient, but truly—this defies belief.”

The samurai stared intently in admiration.

However, the old man’s way of swimming was truly bizarre.

Whether it be Suifu-ryū, Kobori-ryū, Ittō-ryū, or Yamato-ryū, when it comes to treading water, most styles typically expose the chest upward.
They cannot rise any higher than that.
Yet the old man had his upper body from the waist up exposed above water.
Indeed, he appeared precisely as though walking upon the water’s surface.

The samurai was utterly impressed.

“But what school could this possibly be?”
“This humble one has never witnessed such a swimming method—truly extraordinary.”

But the samurai's astonishment soon intensified further.
This was because the old man had performed a swimming technique that revealed itself as increasingly extraordinary—a truly mysterious method.

The old man swam steadily onward.
As he advanced toward the lake’s center—where his form should have diminished—it instead swelled increasingly larger.
However, this was only natural.
As the old man swam, he increasingly lifted his body from the water; by the time he had traveled over two hundred meters, he stood literally upon the water’s surface.

II

This wasn't swimming through water at all.
He was gliding across the water's surface.

He would glide smoothly forward only to whirl around, glide smoothly forward only to whirl around.

The samurai crossed his arms and pondered deeply.

"Hmm——" The samurai began to groan.
However, he soon muttered.
"The Nanshū School Dry Techniques, First Scroll: Leftward Path of the Ninefold Heavens!"
"That old man is none other than Go Lake Immortal!"
"...He'll undoubtedly vanish any moment now!"

Sure enough, a spray of water burst upward.
At the same moment, the figure of the old man upon the lake vanished like smoke.

The samurai who saw through this was no ordinary man.

No wonder indeed—this samurai was Yui Shōsetsu.

Regarding the Nanshū School Dry Techniques’ First Scroll: Leftward Path of the Ninefold Heavens, an explanation shall now be set forth.

This was the way of sorcery.

Just as Japan’s ancient civilization had largely come from China, so too had this sorcery been originally Chinese in origin.
Nanshū painting had originally emerged from Zen Buddhism, prioritizing spirit over form under the designation of the Huineng school.
However, the Nanshū school of sorcery did not emerge from Zen but from Taoism.
That is to say, Laozi stood as its founder.
The fundamental objectives of Taoism were two: longevity and happiness.
To obtain these two, generations of Taoist practitioners had strived.
Some manufactured divine elixirs and drank them to attain longevity, while others sought to prolong their lives by balancing yin and yang.
To attain happiness, gold proved necessary.
Therefore, some practiced alchemy in attempts to amass vast amounts of gold.

The doctrine of immortals too was born for the sake of longevity and happiness.

However, the roots of sorcery appear to have placed greater emphasis on obtaining longevity rather than on acquiring happiness.
Now, when it comes to works on sorcery, they take Hōbokushi as their foundation.
Therefore, this discussion must now turn to Hōbokushi.

Yet most regrettably, Hōbokushi's author remains unknown.
It seems strange that such a magnificent book's author should be unknown, but viewed from another angle, this very obscurity might hold truth.
To declare it was surely crafted by immortals would lend it solemn reverence—indeed enhancing its sacred value—though one theory claims it to be the work of a man named Ge Hong.

Now, Hōbokushi was a voluminous work comprising twenty inner chapters and fifty-two outer chapters.
A detailed introduction would be left for another day.

Hōbokushi is the fundamental text of sorcery—an exceedingly, exceedingly good book! Is this alone not sufficient? But to speak truthfully, this Hōbokushi was not a sorcery text but should rather be called a tome of immortal arts. As for what constitutes a true sorcery text, that would be the work titled *Nanshū School Dry Techniques*—a volume that distilled Hōbokushi's essence while integrating theories from diverse disciplines.

III

The famous sorcery text *Nanshū School Dry Techniques* made its way to Japan during the Ashikaga period—only its first scroll, "Ninefold Heavens."
The first scroll alone—*Ninefold Heavens*—was truly magnificent, and it is said that if one were to master even that, they could accomplish any feat.
As for how one might obtain it—somehow, the old man known as Go Lake Immortal had come to possess it and carefully stored it away.
How he had detected it—Yui Shōsetsu had sniffed it out and come all the way from Edo to wrest it from the immortal.

Three days passed in the story.

This was the upper reaches of the Tenryū River.

There stood an imposing mansion.

The pungent smell of medicinal herbs filled the air.
Flowers were blooming luxuriantly.

This was Go Lake Immortal’s mansion.

To the vicinity of Go Lake Immortal’s mansion came a samurai.
The samurai was none other than Yui Shōsetsu.
First he stood and surveyed his surroundings.
"Hmm," he mused inwardly. "As expected of Go Lake Immortal—the estate’s defenses show no weakness… A hill rises northwestward while ponds spread southeastward."
"That formation sandwiches this compound."
"A geomantic pattern drawing blessings from distant lands."
"Thus fortune gathers southeast while golden foundations anchor northwest…"
"True south holds flowing waters due west bears sandy paths… An arrangement for achieving renown."
"Southwest-southeast bamboo groves stand guard while northwest-northeast hilltop structures prepare…"
"This proves yin-yang harmony… I must inspect this layout thoroughly."

And Shōsetsu climbed the hill.

"Ah—an eight-nine layout," he observed.
"A configuration where wealth gathers and fortune arrives... ensuring clan harmony and longevity... Let me see—this side follows an eight-one layout... An auspicious combination of earth and metal... Now here’s a one-seven arrangement."
"If one pursues monastic or Taoist paths," he mused while moving northwestward.
"...this eight-nine sector here... demands understanding of benevolence and righteousness... absolute devotion to loyalty and filial piety."
"A foundation for eternal prosperity of descendants."
He shifted position again.
"...seven-nine pattern over there... Gold and silver must lie buried beneath."
"The metallic energy stands thick here."
His gaze swept southeastward.
"That nine-six section holds a clear-water well—likely spiritual water for compounding medicines."
"The six-four configuration there... No legal disputes would plague this household... Two storehouses anchor the northwest."
"A design unchanged through ten thousand generations."
He noted another well northwestward.
"...complete freedom from illness... Encircled entirely by earthen walls..."
"Two stables here... And finally—the main garden cultivates medicinal herbs."

Yui Shōsetsu was impressed.

Shōsetsu was a rebel of his generation who had mastered ten crafts and six arts, eighteen martial disciplines, astronomy, geography, physiognomy, and house divination—every field of knowledge—and thus had never been astonished before.

That he was astonished meant this was no ordinary matter—it must have been truly extraordinary.

“Well, what should I do now?”

He sank into deep contemplation.

"Should I pretend to be a lost traveler and lie my way in?"
"No—he’d surely see through that."
"Should I honestly confess and ask him to hand over the technique scroll?"
"He probably won’t hand it over easily……Hmm, right."
"I'll sneak in."
"In Hagaryū ninjutsu, even I have reached the first-class rank."
"If I’m spotted, that’s the end of it."
"I'll just cut them down and be done with it."
"If I successfully locate the technique scroll, I'll simply take it and make my escape."
"Very well—I’ll infiltrate the place tonight."

IV

Ninjutsu also originated from China.
Rikumontōkō forms its foundation.
The "Escape Techniques" from the *Bubishi* represent another pillar.

However, ninjutsu developed more fully in Japan than in China.
This was because the Japanese people were small in stature yet remarkably agile.

The foundation of ninjutsu lies in the Five Elements Escape Techniques.
Namely water, fire, wood, metal, and earth.
Now, Hagaryū focuses on water-based escape techniques, was founded by Hagaramon, and was a retainer of Uesugi Kenshin.

“Dripping water forms the foundation.”

Thus it was written in the secret manual.

A single raindrop fell to the ground.
One leapt nimbly over it.
Two raindrops fell to the ground.
One leapt nimbly once more over them.

The raindrops gradually increased in number.
The water-covered areas on the ground expanded.
One leapt nimbly over them.

Eventually, it became a pond, then a marsh.
By that time, humans had developed the strength to calmly leap over it.

This was one of the Hagaryū school’s jumping techniques.

The purpose of Hagaryū ninjutsu was to perform various stealth operations utilizing water, among other things.
The world's great ninjutsu practitioners were, of course, scientists, but beyond that, they were what spiritual science called "mediums (mījam)."

A medium is an intermediary of souls.

Humans are currently alive.
But humans will eventually die.
Now, what happens when one dies?
Of course, the body decays.
However, the soul exists.
This is the theory of the soul's immortality.
Where does that soul reside?
They live in the spirit world!
And those souls desire to communicate with living humans.
However, ordinary humans are unfortunately utterly incapable of communicating with them.
This therefore demands someone endowed with exceptional abilities—a human who can comprehend the language of souls—in other words, a spiritual medium.

A spiritual medium is a human who can understand any words spoken by souls. Not only that—if one becomes an outstanding human being, they can even comprehend the language of plants and trees, mountains and rivers—the words of all living and non-living things in the universe. They can indeed grasp even such matters. Such humans exist in this mortal world only in the rarest of instances. Among them, some individuals harnessed that ability and became exceptional ninjutsu practitioners.

Yui Shōsetsu descended the hill and wandered off without any particular destination.

Thus, the late-night hours reached the Fifth Watch (3-5 AM).

All ninjutsu practitioners choose the Fifth Watch (3-5 AM) and Third Watch (11 PM-1 AM).

Go Lake Immortal’s mansion stood in profound silence.

A moonless, starless night, thickly overcast with clouds.

Then came sharp cracking sounds of bamboo breaking from the grove—snapping without any wind—a phenomenon strange enough that ordinary people would naturally strain their ears to listen. However, once one strained their ears toward that sound, their mind became completely biased to one side. When attention became biased, the other side lay unguarded—this opening was where ninjutsu techniques struck.

The sound of bamboo breaking soon ceased.
Afterward, all was utterly silent.

What was Go Lake Immortal doing?
Where was Yui Shōsetsu?
Of course, breaking the bamboo had undoubtedly been Shōsetsu’s doing.

Then a horse neighed in the stable—
a mournful-sounding cry.

But that too soon ceased.
After that, there was profound silence, and not a single sound could be heard.
The mansion grew increasingly still, and there was no indication that anyone was present.

Then, the second-floor window opened, and a light suddenly shone from there.

From there emerged a young woman whose face remained beautiful even in night’s obscurity.
She appeared to gaze at something.
Could there truly dwell such beauty within the Immortal’s mansion?
The incongruity demanded acknowledgment.

Then, above the Tenryū River, a solitary blue light appeared.
It swayed gently from side to side.
It was unmistakably a soul flame in its entirety.

Then, the young woman who had been peering from the window let out a choked scream.

“Ah! The ghost ship!”
“Ghost ship!”

Five

“A ghost ship, you say?”
“What’s this about?”

It was Shōsetsu who muttered this.

At this moment, he was hidden in the bamboo grove behind the stable.

With a glint in his eyes, he peered toward the Tenryū River.

Indeed, this was unmistakably a ghost ship.
A blue flame resembling a soul flame flickered weightlessly in midair.
...It was neither a lantern, nor a bonfire, nor a shrine lamp, nor a pine torch.
It was an unearthly flame.

Apparently, the luminous object seemed to be at the very top of the mast.
Shōsetsu gazed intently for a long time.
Gradually, he grew accustomed to the darkness.
The ghost ship's hull gradually came into view, faintly visible through the gloom.

The Tenryū River was black.
It was black, shackled by darkness.
Now and then, white flickers could be seen.
The crests of waves colliding with rocks.
Upon that jet-black water floated a gigantic ship.
It was unmistakably a warship.
Two masts; arrow slits on the bow turret were positioned at various points.

And on both the turret and deck, countless people swarmed.
A blue flame like a human soul was dimly illuminating the ship.

The people were clad in armor.
Each held weapons in their hands.
Spears, naginatas, shields, bows and arrows.……

Ah, and then those people all pointed toward Go Lake Immortal’s mansion.
They seemed to be hurling curses.
However, the voices could not be heard.

They were all emaciated.

Then, one after another, they leaped from the deck into the water.
Ten, twenty, thirty.
……And yet they did not drown.
They were standing on the water.

They raced across the water’s surface as if flying, coming ashore one after another.
They formed ranks on the shore.
Then they dashed off swiftly.

Toward Go Lake Immortal’s mansion!

As he drew closer and looked carefully, they were all skeletons.
Where eyes should have been were holes, where a nose should have been was a hole, and where a mouth should have been were only teeth—dozens of them lined up in a row.

The suits of armor clattered against each other.
Bones clattered against bones.

They came running toward the bamboo grove.

Even Shōsetsu—normally unflappable—groaned.
He had been completely terrified.

He pressed himself flat against the ground.

They came running swiftly.
Some of them stepped on Shōsetsu's back with their dirt-covered feet and passed through.
Yet there was not even the slightest weight.
They seemed to have no weight at all.
Despite their numbers passing through, the bamboo grove didn't make even a rustling sound.
Not even a single leaf stirred.
They appeared to lack even physical form.

But no—he could clearly see their terrifying forms!
The forms of skeletons clad in armor!
That's right—it was clearly visible!
But those forms were merely visible.
As material entities, they simply possessed no volume!

"They are indeed ghosts!"

The ghost ship's spectral warriors!
They were dashing straight toward the immortal’s mansion.

It was a sight one could not help but call terrifying.

The spectral warriors formed a group and gathered at the base of the earthen wall.

Then they passed through the earthen wall and swiftly invaded the mansion interior.
Of course there was no hole in the earthen wall.
Yet they slipped through.

What erupted was a woman's scream!

A terrified shriek—"Eeeek!"—rang out!
Next came the old man's bellow!
It seemed to be the voice of Go Lake Immortal.
The clang of weapons, the thud of bodies falling, a roaring war cry!
A clattering sound of something collapsing.

“Grandfather!”
“Grandfather!”
“Grandfather!”

“Stay strong, my girl!”

A thunderous chorus of laughter erupted.

“Eeeek!” screamed the woman again.

Unthinkable!
A mournful song surged forth:

“Ah, the warrior’s poignant

Ah, the warrior's poignant commander
The spirits themselves are sorrowful!
That buried coffin
In days of old, they fought
Now lies the land of ancient bones

O base and foolish ones

Desist!
Oh without fail

Mount Fuji's snow-white hemp—

Pristine though it be, cleansed in sorrow—

Mount Fuji's snow-white hemp—

Snow-white hemp—how fitting it is—

Built—this disgrace!

It was an incomprehensible song.
However, that passage was sorrowful.
A voice sang again and again.
And there was modulation in its delivery.
In some passages it emphasized; in others, it relaxed.

Yui Shōsetsu lay prone, listening intently to the singing voice.

A song heard again and again!

It was midnight.

It was deep in the mountains.

The sheer terror of that singing voice!

Six

Once more, armored warriors emerged from the earthen wall, welling forth like a great flood overflowing.

They were carrying something.

Several people were bearing it atop their heads.
A woman!
A woman's corpse!
"It was the woman who had stuck her face out the window and shouted 'Ghost Ship!'"
They were carrying the corpse.

Run, run—the armored warriors ran.

Through the bamboo thicket toward Tenryū!

Some stepped on Shōsetsu's head.
Some stepped on his foot.
And then some stepped on his hand.
He still felt no weight.

They ran toward the river.
And then they walked as if gliding across the water's surface and clambered aboard the ship.

And then, the ship began to move.
It was ascending the Tenryū River.

A will-o'-the-wisp-like light swayed gently as it hovered in midair.
It continued upstream, further upstream.

Shōsetsu stood up and crossed his arms.

“There must be deeper significance.”
“That song those wretches sang... I’ll call off tonight’s infiltration.”
“...Time to alter tactics.”

He smoothly emerged from the bamboo thicket.
And then he departed to parts unknown.

It was the following morning.

Aiming for Go Lake Immortal’s estate, a lone samurai came walking.

None other than Yui Shōsetsu.

When he stood at the entrance, he requested to be shown in.

“I shall request an audience,” he declared in a forceful voice.

With a graceful rustle of tatami mats, the entrance’s sliding door slid open.
A woman sat demurely.

When Shōsetsu saw that, he exclaimed, “Ah!”

This shock was only natural.
There sat the girl from last night - the one who’d been carried off by phantom warriors.

“Where might you be visiting from?”

The woman said cheerfully.
She was not a ghost. She was not a corpse.
She was unmistakably a living, breathing human.
She was a beautiful young woman of eighteen or nineteen.
She properly positioned three fingers in formal etiquette.

“This is shocking,” he thought inwardly.
Shōsetsu was completely terrified.
Yet betraying none of this in his demeanor, he declared: “This humble one is a ronin from Edo named Yui Shōsetsu. I have come most earnestly desiring an audience with the esteemed elder.
“I humbly request you convey this matter.”

“Please wait a moment,” said the young lady.
Then she retreated deeper into the house with soft, shuffling footsteps.
There existed unmistakable feet.
By any observation, this was no ghost.

Shōsetsu crossed his arms and sank into thought.

At that moment, the young lady returned.

“It seems you will be granted an audience.”
“Please proceed this way.”

And with that, Shōsetsu stepped up into the entrance.

The room he was shown into was a strange one.
A three-ken square, perfectly cubic room—there were neither fusuma sliding doors nor shoji paper screens.
There were no windows and no exits.

“Hmm,” Shōsetsu thought again.
“I was indeed guided here and should have just entered this room.
And yet there wasn’t a single entrance or exit.
Where in the world could I have entered from?”

He simply couldn’t comprehend it.
The four walls were uniformly flesh-colored, quivering unnaturally.
And countless wrinkles covered them.
The wrinkles were constantly moving.
No sooner had they stretched than they shrank.
But it wasn’t just the walls.
The ceiling was the same.
Not only the ceiling—the floor was the same.
The floorboards of the room he currently sat in stretched and contracted.
There was no alcove and no staggered shelves.
There was absolutely no decoration.

It was unbearably creepy.

“Hmm… Was this a setup?”

Shōsetsu tried to compose himself.
He fixed his gaze on the floorboards.
And there were strange streaks.
There were three of them.
They ran diagonally through the room from one corner.

Shōsetsu shuddered violently when he saw this.
But it was not a shudder of fear—it was a shudder of rage.

"The Ten-Chi-Jin lines that began from Xun (Southeast)—one runs between Kun (Southwest) and Dui (West), another heads toward Qian (Northwest)."
"The lowest line pierces Kan!"
He gnashed his teeth with a crackling intensity.

In one fluid motion, he drew the dagger at his waist and plunged it straight into the center of the floorboards with a dull thud!
The instant he did, a voice cried, “Ouch!”

In that instant, Shōsetsu was sent tumbling and thrown out.

When he leapt to his feet, that room was gone—an entirely different room now existed.
There were staggered shelves and an alcove.
In the alcove was arranged a winter camellia.
On the shelves there was an incense burner, and wispy smoke rose.
There were fusuma sliding doors and tatami mats.
It was a perfectly ordinary yet splendid tatami room.

Sitting with his back to the alcove was none other than Go Lake Immortal, making a grimace as he firmly pressed his right palm with paper. What flowed from there was blood.

Seven

“What a terrible thing to do, Lord Yui Shōsetsu.”

The old man spoke resentfully to his counterpart.

“The feeling is mutual, Master Go Lake Immortal.”

Shōsetsu let out a booming laugh. “How does it fare? Is the wound deep?”

“It’s not deep, but it stings somewhat.”

“Ahahaha! How unfortunate for you... A divine punishment clutched in my grasp.”

“But you discerned it well.”

“From the lines of the Three Talents—Heaven, Earth, and Man.”

“That should lie beyond ordinary comprehension.”

“What nonsense! Anyone versed in palmistry could grasp such trifles.”
“But... what art might that be?”

“Indeed, that was the Ten Palaces Transmission.”

“The Nanshū School Dry Techniques’ Ninefold Heavens—it too resides within the first scroll, does it not?”
Yui Shōsetsu pressed.

Then the old man shot a piercing look but,

“Hmm, who can say? I don’t know,” he suddenly grew cautious.
“By the way, Lord Shōsetsu—we did meet at the lakeside yesterday, did we not?”

“Oh, so you knew?”
Shōsetsu was slightly startled.

“And you had quite the ordeal last night.”
“You employed various ninjutsu techniques—Oritake-tanpō, Hiba-tanpō—but ultimately gave up and withdrew.”
“It seems you have studied the Hagar school, but you’re still rather young.”
“With that approach, you’ll never breach the defenses.”

“Damn it!” Shōsetsu seethed inwardly. That old bastard knew damn well everything.
Yet he did not yield.

He thrust one knee forward forcefully.

"But even someone as remarkable as you, old master, appear troubled by this Ghost Ship matter."

"Now, to that matter," said the old man, resting his bandaged right hand on his knee, "but being none other than Lord Shōsetsu, I shall speak truthfully—as you have discerned, that has defeated me."

“It seems even a sorcerer of your standing cannot manage it, old master.”

“Celestial beings endure the Five Decays; immortals withstand Seven Calamities.”
“…Yet against mere dead spirits, even I am powerless.”

“What have you discerned about the song?”

“Hm? A song?”
“Which song do you mean?”

“The one chanted by those fiends.”

“Ah, that. I did ponder it.
“…But its meaning eludes me still.”

“Yet this humble one understands.”

“Hmm, is that so? And what meaning would that be?”

“No need, no need,” he waved his hand.
“I won’t reveal it that cheaply.”

“Is that so? Then I shan’t inquire further.”
The old man turned away with a displeased look.

“By the way, there’s one thing I’d like to ask.”
Shōsetsu stared at the old man. “Is that lady your granddaughter?”

“She is indeed my granddaughter.”

“Why does she return alive?”

“That occurs nightly.”
“Every night those fiends come invading—they turn her into a corpse, haul her to their ship to torment her, then revive and send her back.”
“……The pitiable one is my granddaughter.”
“She grows weaker each day…… In short, they cannot curse me directly, so they haunt my frail girl instead—tormenting me through her.”

“Old man—have you committed no cruel deeds in times past?”

“No, absolutely not,” the old man said.
“I may be but a sorcerer, yet I have committed no crimes whatsoever.”

“What do you intend to do now?”

“I cannot lay hands upon it.
“I shall abandon it.”

“What of your granddaughter’s life?”

“The poor child—she will die.”

“This humble one shall undertake its extermination.”
Shōsetsu thrust his knee forward once more.

“How about this—as your reward, would you not consider granting me the secret scrolls?”

The old man fell deep into thought.
Then he slowly opened his mouth.

“The secret scrolls are of little use to me now indeed.”
“For I have already mastered their meaning through and through. Thus I sought worthy successors to whom I might transfer them.”
“Through my search, I selected four candidates.”
“The foremost being none other than your esteemed self.”
“The second Lord Yamaga Sokō, the third Lord Kumazawa Banzan, and the fourth Lord Hoshina Masayuki.”
“…And so when I encountered you lakeside and judged you a potential heir, I revealed that water-treading marvel.”
“Yet regrettably, you nurture rebellious designs within your heart.”
“You shall inevitably bring disorder to the realm.”
“Now the Nanshū School Dry Techniques prove detrimental to such as you.”
“Therefore I wished not to bestow them upon you. However, since you pledge to dispel these specters and preserve my granddaughter’s life, I must relinquish them after all.”
“Very well—I shall confer them unto you.”

Abruptly, the old man stood up and entered the adjacent room.
What he brought was a single scroll; he pressed it reverently to his forehead, then placed it before Shōsetsu.

“Transfer of techniques! Straighten your collar!”

Shōsetsu straightened his collar precisely.

“Now then—the secret scrolls are yours… What of your method for exorcising these evil spirits?”

Eight

“You should have the latrine demolished.”

This was Shōsetsu’s statement.
Now that the secret scrolls had been transferred, the old man had effectively become his master.
Thereupon, he adopted a courteous tone.

“You are most learned, Master.”
“That, at least in this incident, proved to be the root of failure.”
“To explain why—Master, your very erudition led you to overcomplicate the meaning of their trivial song.”
“As a result, it collapsed into needless complexity.”
“Their song held no meaning; it was in the characters that meaning resided.”
“In the first phrase, the character ‘Bu’ at its beginning held meaning indeed.”
“And then in the following phrase, it was the character ‘Shō’ at its end that held meaning indeed.”
“And then in the third phrase, once again it was the character ‘Rei’ at its beginning that held meaning indeed.”
“And then in the fourth phrase, once again it was the character ‘Hitsugi’ at its end that held meaning indeed. By thus taking one character each from the beginning and end and arranging them in proper order, they form the following sequence of words.”

“The military commander’s coffin lies underground.

Defilement must never be constructed.

The military commander’s coffin lies underground; one must never erect defilement upon it.
“This is how it comes together.”
“Now, as for how I noticed this—they put particular emphasis on both the beginning and end when singing their song.”
“…and thus, I suspect an old military commander’s coffin lies buried beneath the latrine within your estate.”
“Because a latrine was built atop it, the spirit grew enraged and sought vengeance, I believe.”

Thereupon, the old man and Shōsetsu hurried to demolish the latrine and dug into the ground beneath it.
Sure enough, there was a single coffin, and armor-clad skeletons were scattered about the area.