Zuwaro blinked, not understanding what ginseng was, or the aning of a horse, though he could roughly guess. The Alliance’s script was based on Chinese characters, supplented by localized kana and new characters, making it possible to communicate with countries within the Chinese cultural sphere...
After gazing at it for a while, Zuwaro threw the roll of accounts aside. Then, he extended his finger and, under the shocked gaze of Murakami and Watanabe, wrote a few simple square characters in the snow.
"Listen to , live!... If not, sacrifice to the gods!..."
"This is... What is this? Watanabe... Does this look like the writing of the Family Head?..."
Upon seeing this line of familiar characters, Murakami Kitamichi widened his eyes and stared hard for a mont. Unfortunately, though he had seen those characters before, he couldn’t recognize them... He was born a Samurai of Ezo land, at most recognizing a few kana and "Amitabha Buddha," but couldn’t comprehend the Chinese script commonly used by the upper echelons of Wa Country.
"Buddha! Listening to you... I can live?... Not listening... offered to the gods?... What is this character, with a person below, a heart above, and a dagger to the right... Ah! Take the heart out with a dagger and hold it above the head for the gods!..."
Beside Murakami, Monk Soldier Watanabe Masumi read the characters in the snow, a look of incredulity on his face. He was a direct descendant of the Martial Family and had studied Buddhist Scriptures in a temple, making him well-versed in Chinese characters. As he looked at the unique xica character for "sacrifice" that was written, a shiver ran through him, sending a chill throughout his body...
But after a mont, Watanabe Masumi suddenly reacted. His pupils contracted sharply, roiling emotions surged within him as he gazed at the frank face of the Ezo chieftain before him, as if ten thousand horses were galloping through his mind. This chieftain, who appeared thousands of miles away from the Far North land on a reindeer sled, had actually written a sentence in Chinese characters right in front of him?!...
"Buddha! You!... You?... Aren’t you Ezo?... You’re Wa people?! No, you can’t speak Japanese... Could it be, could it be you’re?!..."
Watanabe Masumi stared wide-eyed, incoherently shouting for a while. He wanted to reach out and write but was unable to lift his hand. Zuwaro gave orders to those around him, and only then did a Samurai cautiously gripping an axe untie the ropes on Watanabe’s hands. As soon as he was freed, Watanabe fell onto the snow, his fingers trembling as he wrote the sa line of square characters.
"Are you Wa people? Koreans? Jiao people? Or Tang people?"
"Hm?..."
Upon seeing this line, with these Southern Tribes ntioned in the prophecy of Your Majesty, Zuwaro’s face lit up with joy, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards. These tribes of the Large Ship did indeed co from the South! After pondering for a mont, he wrote down a response.
"We are Jiao People! From two thousand leagues east of the sea..."
"Ah! Jiao People? Two thousand leagues east of the sea?!... Buddha! Is this true or false?... Such a distant place, which of the overseas Thirty-Six States does it belong to? Or which continent of the four large continents?...
Seeing this unexpected answer, Watanabe Masumi widened his eyes, his mind completely at a loss. And seeing the doubt in Watanabe’s eyes, Zuwaro smiled without explaining. He simply continued to write a line, questioning the head of the Large Ship who could communicate through writing.
"Where are you from? Jurchen? Korea? Wa? Ming?..."
The north wind blew snow, burying the cold and killing intent of the snowy plains. Watanabe Masumi pursed his lips, intensely staring at the question in the snow before him, pondering the hidden disputes and murderous intents that might lurk behind the question.
"Buddha! Grant enlightennt! Jiao People two thousand leagues east of the sea? Why are you here, and why do you use Chinese characters?..."
Monk Soldier Watanabe Masumi stared for a long ti and then looked at Zuwaro’s expectant face, his mind completely directionless, unable to make any judgnts. He hesitated, biting his teeth before bowing his head and writing a "Wa" with effort in the cold snow.
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