People always interpret life according to their own obsessions and turn a blind eye to the pain they inflict on others. This is true for daimyo, bandits, farmers, and samurai.
The daimyo launched wars in order to compete for profits and power, and the samurai on the losing side became bandits or ronin. They harmed the peasants and led to a decrease in productivity. They did not engage in production and were idle. They became mercenaries and participated in wars everywhere.
In this way, under the rule of the daimyo, the population base dropped sharply, public security was unstable, and business was restricted, which weakened the daimyo's power and forced them to intensify their exploitation of the peasants. The peasants rose up to resist, and everyone fought together, creating a painful cycle that cannot be avoided in the world.
, no one can escape this reincarnation.
Kikuchiyo sat by the campfire, holding a short knife in one hand and a bamboo branch in the other. The blade of the knife scraped back and forth on the bamboo branch repeatedly until there was not even the tiniest burr on it.
He put down the short knife, held the cooled rice balls, inserted them on the shaved bamboo branches, and held one in each hand. He carefully turned them over by the fire, trying to make the rice balls evenly heated and not burnt. This set of movements was smooth and smooth, and the heat was controlled.
The details are exactly the same. It is obvious that our Kikuchiyo-sama spends as much thought on how to use fire to process food as he does on practicing martial arts.
After a while, the fragrant rice balls were blown in all directions by the night breeze, making the hungry farmers salivate.
Obviously, it is impossible for farmers to enjoy such precious food as rice. They can only sit in the outer circle and gnaw on dry and hard grain dumplings. A mouthful of hot water in a bamboo tube is their only comfort.
Kikuchiyo respectfully handed one of the rice balls to Kazuyo Sorayama. When the other party nodded and took it, he couldn't wait to pull the other rice ball off the bamboo branch and started to swallow it in big mouthfuls. But from the corner of his eye, he looked at Kazuyo Sorayama from time to time.
, seemed to be waiting for his evaluation, and made the always unruly Kikuchiyo behave like this. It can be seen that the three hours of special training played a big role.
Ichiyo Sorayama took a bite, and the rice ball of Yehuikao was golden and crispy on the outside, and sweet and fragrant on the inside. Although there was no condiment, the original flavor of the fresh rice and the power of the fire transformed it into an ordinary rice ball.
The rice balls turned into delicacies.
It has to be said that this was the most satisfying meal for Kazuyo Sorayama since he came to this era. He looked at it, imitated Kikuchiyo's method, took a big bite, and made his cheeks bulge.
The power of the food immediately dispelled Kazuyo Sorayama's fatigue, and his eyes when looking at Kikuchiyo softened a lot. "Not bad, it's stronger than your sword." Kazuyo Sorayama praised.
Kikuchiyo's originally cheerful expression suddenly fell down, and he muttered unhappily: "You! Hmph, how can I be like you adults who practice every day besides eating? Most of the time, we are exhausted trying not to starve to death.
, how can you have the energy to waste your energy practicing martial arts!"
What Kikuchiyo said is a reflection of this era. The so-called "poor literature and rich martial arts" did not exist in ancient Japan, because there was only one path of "rich military", and "literary" was the highest level that only the richer class could access.
Threshold. If you are poor, you can only be a farmer, a mountain dweller, or a refugee from generation to generation. There is no other way out.
It is no small miracle that a guy like Kikuchiyo, who was born in a peasant family but has learned some martial arts without a teacher and can make a living as a ronin, is alive to this day.
Sorayama Kazuha smiled slightly: "Oh? I remember the first time I met you, you were drinking with a group of scoundrels in the city, right, and you were hit on the head with a stick by that boy Katsushiro."
Kikuchiyo was speechless, opened his mouth and retorted in a low voice: "Isn't that a special situation... Who doesn't have time to have fun..."
Kazuyo Sorayama stared at Kikuchiyo, with a hint of sternness in his hoarse voice: "The moment I started to raise the sword when I was 5 years old, I have never left the sword for 25 years, and I have never wanted to leave. For the sake of the sword, I stay away from my family, and I am alone.
I am lonely, I gave up enjoyment for the sake of the sword, and I still don’t know what wine tastes like. Maybe one day I will be starving to death, but the sword in my heart still won’t give up. What about you, Lord Kikuchiyo?"
Kikuchiyo was dejected and did not dare to refute. He practiced swordsmanship to kill more people, for a better life, and for a higher status... But Sorayama Kazuyo only did it for the sword itself. This is why he is different from everyone else in this era.
In this place, even if you hide for a long time, you can't get rid of the burden of the world, so you can't be as extraordinary as a leaf on an empty mountain at the same age.
No longer entangled in this difference, and not wanting to change Kikuchiyo's behavior, the cold Sorayama Kazuha asked: "There are only three hours today, what progress do you think you have made?"
Kikuchiyo thought nervously for a while, then shook his head blankly: "I... can't tell where I am better than before, but I always feel different."
"Do you think if we face the enemy again now, you will rush forward and kill as before?" Ichiba Sorayama asked. Kikuchiyo suddenly realized: "That's it! I know, in the past I always rushed up first and then talked, but
When you hit me with a bamboo branch just now, I would calculate your movements and response methods, although this is still of no use..."
"No, you dodged my attack twice!" Kazuyo Sorayama interrupted: "When did you see me use the second sword to kill someone? Because when I made the move, I had already determined that the opponent would not be able to dodge my attack.
, do you know what it means to escape me twice?"
Kikuchiyo, a rough-tempered guy, became excited again and shouted: "Of course I am a genius! I am stronger than those stupid thieves!"
Kazuyo Sorayama was helpless and had no choice in dealing with Kikuchiyo, a particularly cheerful person. He sighed: "You are right, but you know what, you have found your own way."
Seeing Kikuchiyo's confused expression, Sorayama Kazuyo did not continue to explain.
This kind of thing cannot be described in words. Just like a chef, he can decide the appearance of the final dish as soon as he faces the ingredients, and then cook it according to his own ideas. No matter whether it is delicious or not, he always has an understanding of the dish and the corresponding taste.
means.
The same is true for Kikuchiyo. Although he is far from reaching the level of making perfect dishes, he has opened the path to the end. As long as he can persist in his practice, maybe there will be a swordsman from civilized countries in the future.
This guy who is both lucky and talented would never be able to make the same transformational progress if he didn't have an empty mountain. But having a superb master personally teach him and relying on wild methods to learn on his own are two completely different paths.
Without Kazuyo Sorayama, Kikuchiyo might have ended up like most ronin in this era. He might have died on the streets one day, he might have died of poverty and illness in an unknown wilderness, or he might have died in the battle between bandits attacking the village...
...but there is absolutely no possibility of becoming a master of swordsmanship!
The surroundings gradually became quiet, with only the crackling of the bonfire mixed with the sound of the flowing river, making the night feel particularly deserted.
Suddenly, Kazuyo Sorayama tapped Kikuchiyo with his scabbard and whispered: "Don't make a sound, don't move. Someone is coming. They are bandits, one, two, three, four, five-six, six of them in total."
No matter how light the bandit's movements were, or how concealed the night was, they could not hide the sound of the bandit's heavy breathing from Kazuya Sora's ears. Even running water could not cover it up.
"Don't be nervous, it's still thirty steps away." Ignoring Kikuchiyo's admiring and slightly suspicious eyes, Sorayama Kazuyo whispered: "Go and inform the farmers, tell them not to panic, and be prepared. You don't need them to take action.
The two of us will leave these thieves here."
Kikuchiyo grinned happily and responded in a low voice: "Yo Xi! Finally we've waited for them!"
As he spoke, he moved back and came to the trench where the farmers were resting. He shouted in a low voice: "Listen, everyone, don't shout or panic. Six bandits are coming. Master Kongshan and I are enough. You guys must hold your position.
Don't let the bandits enter the village. During the battle, everyone will obey orders. If anyone dares to escape, I will chase him and kill him first. Do you understand?"
The farmer trembled and clutched his spear tightly. It was unknown whether he was frightened by the news of the bandit's attack or Kikuchiyo's threat. His face turned pale and his limbs were weak.
When Kikuchiyo saw it, he was so angry that he cursed in a low voice: "Baga! You don't need to take action. What are you afraid of? Wait for me to shout 'kill' in a while, and you hide here and shout together. If anyone dares not to shout, I will cut his tongue."
!”
Just when Kikuchiyo was threatening the peasants, Kazuha Sorayama suddenly pulled out the two burning logs next to the fire and threw them to the river bank behind the wooden fence. Then, he threw two more torches behind the wooden fence, each one
The wood is 2 meters apart and is as precise as measuring with a ruler.
The fire from a few logs clearly illuminated six sneaky figures, and the two bandits at the front had even climbed onto the wooden fence!
Kikuchiyo suddenly jumped up, pulled out his nodachi and shouted: "Kill! Kill! Kill!" The peasants subconsciously shouted in unison with a strange scream that was not just fear but anger: "Kill! Kill!