Even just a mouthful of spit from each person would be enough to drown him.
Upon hearing what the young man said, Pan Yang’s expression turned strange. After a mont of silence, he looked at the group of people in robes, gesticulating and muttering incantations, and explained, "Those are Japanese Onmyoji, responsible for blessing the deceased."
The Martial Saint suddenly understood and imdiately nodded, "Got it, just like local Taoists in Japan, but these people are just pretending to be mystical without any real skills."
Exorcism and blessing are symbolic, is there really anyone who can communicate with spirits?
However, after two days of interaction, although it wasn’t long, Pan Yang understood the young man’s speaking style and didn’t take it to heart.
"Mr. Jiang, Fujiwara Takuya has arrived."
He reminded.
Indeed.
After seeing off the four-star general from the United States, Fujiwara Takuya imdiately walked over here.
"Mr. Jiang, thank you for your trouble in making a special trip."
This Fujiwara heir, who theoretically should resent him deeply, was extrely courteous, his appearance not much changed—it shares the sa genes as his sister, handso and elegant—just that compared to last year, there was a more noticeable weariness between his brows.
That’s right.
After all, he’s facing the loss of his father.
There are not many disasters in life, heavier than such misfortune.
"I’m deeply sorry for the Fujiwara Clan Leader’s passing, please accept my condolences."
Jiang Chen consoled.
"Birth, aging, sickness, and death are natural laws; no one can transcend them. My father was always tornted by illness in life, perhaps leaving is a release for him too."
They are truly a family.
The siblings are top-notch actors.
Jiang Chen nodded.
"Please, co in."
Fujiwara Takuya gestured.
Guests ca in an endless stream, indeed there wasn’t enough ti for re pleasantries, but towards Jiang Chen’s group, his attitude undoubtedly changed. He previously personally escorted the four-star general inside, but now he had no such intention.
But that’s also understandable.
After all, Jiang Chen was not an invited guest.
Whoever invited should be responsible for hosting.
In these special tis, of course, one wouldn’t mind such small details that much. As Jiang Chen and his group walked toward the vermilion gate, another group of guests hurriedly arrived.
Jiang Chen accidentally glanced over.
Oh.
An acquaintance.
Prince Wataru Tetsuya got out of the car, holding the Little Princess Ya Yi’s hand.
The Imperial Family also ca.
This is the aura of a top Japanese conglorate.
"Damn, why does that guy look so ugly?"
Seeing Wataru Tetsuya, the Martial Saint blurted out, although this ti he took the occasion into account, intentionally lowering his voice.
To be honest, as ti progresses, as long as one tidies up a bit, anyone, male or female, won’t look that bad. But this little brat was an exception.
Even getting out of a luxury car couldn’t change that visual impact.
In contrast, the little girl next to him appeared especially cute and endearing.
The Martial Saint surely didn’t know he was insulting real royalty, but it shouldn’t count as defamation.
Stating facts, could that be criminalized?
However, since he lowered his voice, no one else heard.
"Prince His Highness, Princess."
Fujiwara Takuya quickly went up to greet them. After exchanging pleasantries, Fujiwara Takuya indicated towards them and said sothing to the half-siblings.
Subsequently, Wataru Tetsuya led Ya Yi in Jiang Chen’s direction.
Human joys and sorrows are not connected.
Fujiwara Takuya and Fujiwara Reiki seem distant despite appearances, but the royal siblings appeared to have an increasingly good relationship.
Jiang Chen did not avoid them, unlike the four-star general who was in such a hurry; after all, it was a condolence visit, the person is already deceased, a delay hardly matters.
"Mr. Jiang."
A few steps away, the Little Princess Ya Yi was the first to greet him. Logically, a child of her age shouldn’t have such a good mory.
It seems Boss Jiang had left a deep impression on the little girl.
The Martial Saint was nearly numb.
What does it an to be truly impressive?
His Brother Jiang Chen doesn’t need a business card; just this face is enough to be recognized anywhere.
"The Princess has grown taller again."
Jiang Chen smiled kindly, even if there were feelings of national enmity or family hatred, it was hard to harbor resentnt towards such a well-mannered little girl.
"Ya Yi hopes to be as tall as Teacher in the future."
The specific person referred to as "Teacher" here carried a deep aning.
Wataru Tetsuya patted his sister’s head, "If you want to grow tall, you need to supplent your nutrition and eat more regularly."
What a warm picture.
Only the Martial Saint seed a bit dazed.
What did Brother Jiang Chen just call them?
Princess?
This isn’t a movie.
After a brief distraction, the Martial Saint quickly ca to his senses.
The strange little customs are different from theirs, deeply ingrained with servility, still having an Emperor today.
So this ugly person and this little adult girl are royalties of the little customs?
Oh my.
It’s worth coming.
Of course, the Martial Saint felt no fear, only novelty; for the little barbaric nation, any of their Shen Zhou family nas can trace back to emperors and ministers if they wish.
Therefore, the Martial Saint didn’t care in the slightest, unabashedly eyeing the Wataru Tetsuya siblings.
"Prince His Highness."
Jiang Chen greeted Wataru Tetsuya.
"I didn’t expect Mr. Jiang to co all the way from Shen Zhou."
How could I not co?
We’re quite familiar with your fiancée, after all.
Honestly speaking.
If faced with a problem, attempting a change in perspective might yield entirely different sensations.
And Boss Jiang is definitely a master at adjusting ntality, so facing this Prince soon to marry the beauty, his mood is quite calm, "As a junior, it’s expected."
From afar, Fujiwara’s young master, while welcoming guests and unobtrusively observing, might be slightly disappointed seeing such a harmonious scene.
"Mr. Jiang, join us."
Wataru Tetsuya extended an invitation.
Jiang Chen nodded.
After simple pleasantries, both groups accompanied each other,
guided respectfully by mbers of the Fujiwara Family.
Passing through the vermilion antique gate, the jagged stone path extends underfoot. Unlike the bustle outside the courtyard, entering Fujiwara Family’s ancestral manor, the environnt suddenly turned tranquil, occasionally accompanied by distant murmurs of flowing water.
Alongside the stone path, neatly pruned flowers silently blood, their colorful petals swaying in contrast with the prominently hung white lanterns, seemingly intended to prevent the funeral from becoming overly heavy and oppressive.
Stepping onto the wooden corridor, the floor emitted a slight "creak," displaying the raw wooden grain on the corridor pillars. At the center was a square pool with a few koi calmly swimming, occasionally swishing their tails, stirring rings of ripples. By the pool lay a few moss-covered boulders, the textures on the stones telling of the family’s long history.
Further off, a ticulously curated rock garden can be seen. The ground paved with white sand showed rake marks resembling ocean waves, scattered among them were several distinctly shaped stones, either standing or laying down.
It must be said, the Fujiwara Family’s ancestral manor has so treasures, following normal aesthetics, without engaging in the wabi-sabi tradition, naturally and simply revealing unique charm and profound Zen, isolating from external disturbances and clamor.
Due to the funeral, even though accompanying each other, both parties tacitly refrained from excessive conversation, only the Martial Saint kept glancing at the siblings as if observing pandas in a zoo.
Wataru Tetsuya seed unaware, but the Little Princess Ya Yi appeared slightly embarrassed, yet her good upbringing kept her confident, even occasionally turning her head to et the Martial Saint’s gaze.
Often at this ti, the Martial Saint would smile "evilly," revealing rows of big white teeth.
"Thunk."
It felt like his head was gently knocked.
The Martial Saint looked up in mild pain, feeling wronged as he gazed at Jiang Chen.
Jiang Chen gave him a warning look.
Good guy.
Trying to flirt with the Japanese Imperial Family’s sister.
And not considering how young the little girl is.
Distant soothing Buddhist chanting drifted in.
The funeral hall was approaching.
The Martial Saint scratched his head, nowhere to vent grievances, only to see Sister Liuli suddenly frown slightly.
"Sis, what’s wrong? Is there a ghost?"
His attention was instantly redirected.
Tanki Liuli remained silent, just staring at the tranquil spot above the funeral hall.
The Martial Saint turned his head to look, puzzled.
Can’t you see?
The lingering resentnt in the air.
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