Chapter 106

Tsuchimikado family.

Not long after Director Takahashi and his team arrived, Professor Beishan also arrived.

“Abe no Miwayama Maro?!”

Upon learning the sword-seeker’s name, Professor Beishan’s aged face showed emotion.

Seeing this, everyone confirmed that Professor Nakata was right—Professor Beishan knew the Abe surname.

“Professor Beishan, the Abe surname…”

Shhhhl.

A Japanese sliding wooden door opened, interrupting Director Takahashi’s question.

“My lord, a man claiming to be Abe no Miwayama Maro has arrived—at the gate!” A Tsuchimikado servant rushed over, breathless.

With no time to think further, Tsuchimikado Kenji, Tsuchimikado Xia Mei, Director Takahashi, and others sprinted out the front door toward the courtyard gate.

He was a middle-aged man clad in an ancient Onmyōdō robe, yet he wore it with no trace of the onmyōji’s solemnity or discipline—casual, like someone wearing a suit without a tie, collar wide open, turning formal attire into something relaxed.

A neighborly, cheerful uncle vibe.

At first sight of the man, they froze.

An onmyōji?

They looked again—and stared, dumbfounded.

The middle-aged onmyōji didn’t just wear his robe casually—he lacked all solemnity and authority, stroking his chin stubble, eyes curious, scanning the surroundings, glancing here, then there.

Sometimes he even stared at cars passing down the road ahead, murmuring in awe.

“That iron box is kind of interesting.”

The murmurs echoed in their ears; Director Takahashi and the others were stunned, wondering if they’d mistaken the man—but around the courtyard gate stood only this one middle-aged man, no one else.

“My lord, that man is the one claiming to be Abe no Miwayama Maro.”

The servant hurried up, pointing at the onmyōji at the courtyard gate.

Only then did they confirm they hadn’t mistaken him—he was indeed Abe no Miwayama Maro. Instantly, they were dumbstruck: how did Abe no Miwayama Maro seem like a lunatic who didn’t even recognize cars?

Wait.

He doesn’t recognize cars? Could it be…

They concluded the man was either an imposter or an ancient transcendent who had lived in seclusion—or even existed outside this world—for so long that he knew nothing of modern changes, perhaps having spent centuries in the demon realm or another world.

They leaned toward the latter.

Not to mention: the fact that he claimed to be Abe no Miwayama Maro alone proved his identity. After all, Kūkai’s borrowing of the Ame-no-Murakumo Sword was a secret known only to the Tsuchimikado family and a few top government officials—outsiders had no knowledge of it.

The middle-aged man noticed people emerging from the courtyard gate, turned his curious gaze toward them.

“Hello, I am Abe no Miwayama Maro, here to retrieve the Ame-no-Murakumo Sword.”

Before anyone could ask for proof, he touched the onmyōji rope bracelet on his wrist—the symbols glowed softly, and from within the small onmyōji talisman on the bracelet, a Buddhist prayer bead floated out into thin air.

Director Takahashi and the others saw clearly: a Buddhist prayer bead had emerged from within the flat, tiny plaque—as if the plaque contained a separate dimension capable of holding objects far larger than itself.

This display convinced them half of the man’s identity—he was at least a transcendent.

Only a transcendent could wield such extraordinary power.

The prayer bead was plain, radiating a soft divine light, threads of radiance coalescing into a Buddha image—as if a deity sat cross-legged upon the bead, illuminating all beings.

Another prayer bead appeared.

This one floated out from Tsuchimikado Xia Mei’s pocket—the very prayer bead Master Kūkai had given her as a token.

The two beads rose, hovering in midair, then fused together.

In an instant.

Divine light surged, echoing with Buddhist chants.

“Amitabha.”

It was Master Kūkai’s voice.

Hearing it, Director Takahashi and the others were certain—the man was Abe no Miwayama Maro. Master Kūkai had given Xia Mei one prayer bead and told her: the one who came to retrieve the sword would bear another; if the two beads responded to each other, he was Abe no Miwayama Maro.

Tsuchimikado family, main hall.

“What a nostalgic architectural style.”

Abe no Miwayama Maro scanned the Tsuchimikado interior, his gaze settling on the courtyard visible beyond the hall’s entrance.

As a shrine family, the Tsuchimikado main residence still preserved the ancient Japanese courtyard style.

The house was surrounded by a courtyard; the main entrance faced the courtyard gate directly, connected by a path of blue stone. On either side, the grounds were spacious, with rock gardens, flowers, and a small pond filled with koi.

The hall’s door was a Japanese sliding door, opening left and right, offering a direct view of the courtyard.

Rock and flowing water channeled through bamboo pipes; when a bamboo tube filled, it tipped, striking a stone with a tinkling sound, preserving the ancient Japanese aesthetic perfectly.

Listening to the water’s tinkling through bamboo, sipping tea—it was profoundly serene.

“Master Abe, may I boldly ask—what is your relationship to Abe no Nakamaro?”

Professor Beishan summoned his courage and suddenly asked.

At first, when Abe no Miwayama Maro arrived, everyone was terrified—even Director Takahashi and Minister Dainai Masaki felt tense, more nervous than hosting foreign dignitaries.

He was a transcendent; a single gesture could destroy the world. They feared that any slight might lead to their annihilation.

But gradually, their tension faded, replaced by ease.

Abe no Miwayama Maro was far more approachable than expected—no aloofness, even friendly and talkative.

As he walked along the blue stone path, he kept asking questions: What was a car? What was this thing called a “cellphone” in your hands? What did it do?

He was incredibly down-to-earth, with not a trace of arrogance.

Everyone formed this impression of Abe no Miwayama Maro—and precisely because of his approachability and chattiness, Professor Beishan finally gathered the courage to voice the question he’d long wanted to ask.

The words were spoken.

Professor Beishan’s heart pounded; the relaxed calm he’d felt moments before tightened again—he feared asking might anger the man.

Yet…

“Huh? Still someone in this era remembers my uncle?” Abe no Miwayama Maro blinked in surprise: “It seems that after Heaven and Earth were severed, later generations have not forgotten the glory brought by those of old.”

Heaven and Earth severed?

Everyone froze. What did that mean?

Though curious, none dared ask—except Professor Beishan. He was old, with one foot already in the grave; if he angered the man and died, he’d lived long enough. The others were young, with decades of comfort ahead—they dared not risk it.

They couldn’t ask Abe no Miwayama Maru—but they could ask Professor Beishan.

At that moment, Professor Beishan’s dim, aged eyes widened with excitement:

“So it’s not a coincidence! Master Abe, you are indeed that Abe no Miwayama Maro—the nephew of Abe no Nakamaro, the man who left a legendary name in both China and Japan!”

“That’s right.”

Abe no Miwayama Maro smiled, casual and direct in his reply.

Hearing this, Professor Nakata beside Professor Beishan couldn’t help asking: “Professor Beishan—who is Abe no Nakamaro?”

All eyes turned to Professor Beishan.

…