At the entrance of the tea room, he changed into new cloth socks.
Fujiwara Reya looked up and glanced inside; the room was about eight tatami mats in size, the candlelight was sowhat hazy, with a dreamy feeling. The guests sat side by side, seemingly all won in luxurious kimonos.
One female guest near the door spotted Fujiwara Reya at once and suddenly stood and ca over.
"Oh, it’s the young president, what a rare guest," she said warmly, standing by Fujiwara Reya, "Would you like to sit beside tonight? My daughter has always wanted to et the young president."
"This won’t do!" Mrs. Hoshimi said with a stern face, looking at the lady trying to snatch a son-in-law, "Mr. Fujiwara is the predetermined son-in-law of my family. Don’t get any wrong ideas, or we might withhold next year’s dividends from your Hizaki Shrine!"
Fujiwara Reya smiled apologetically at the lady.
"Using power to bully others!" the lady laughed elegantly with her lips covered, not ruining the atmosphere.
"Mr. Fujiwara, co with to the chief seat." Mrs. Hoshimi released his hand and walked towards the head of the tea seat.
Fujiwara Reya slightly adjusted his collar, eting the eyes of all the female guests present, and walked straight to the head seat.
In his black and gray patterned haori and hakama, his figure was upright, with an extraordinary handso appearance, standing tall with a straight back. He ignored the eager gazes of everyone, his expression showing a hint of subtle determination, his brows and eyes full of confidence.
The ancient hues of the walls and space instead accentuated his silhouette, making the clothes on him seem as if they were part of his body, the brilliance seemingly lighting up the dim depths of the spacious tea room.
From being neglected at the last gathering, to becoming the focus of the entire room at this gathering.
Fujiwara Reya achieved this in just a month.
He did not appear proud.
But in his heart, he felt proud of himself.
Fujiwara Reya sat down next to Mrs. Hoshimi, while Hoshimi Rinko changed out of her cloth socks that she wore along the way, placed them into her small handbag, and then courteously stepped into the tea room, sitting down next to Fujiwara Reya.
"Senior..." Fujiwara Reya tugged at her sleeve.
Hoshimi Rinko was still angry, ignoring Fujiwara Reya’s small gesture. Mrs. Hoshimi, seeing her daughter’s attitude, found it amusing, turned her head, and glared at Fujiwara Reya, signaling that he must pacify her daughter.
Fujiwara Reya made an OK gesture.
Only then did Mrs. Hoshimi bypass him and turn to chat with a few of the ladies appreciating Ge Xian’s painting hanging in the alcove.
"Do you know who the painting is of?" Hoshimi Rinko asked her junior.
Fujiwara Reya glanced at the painting, unable to answer.
From the inscription, it appeared to be a work by Edo-period painter Hokkyō Sōtatsu, a lightly inked and faintly colored ink-wash painting.
"This one doesn’t have a title, so I don’t know. This kind of Ge Xian painting looks alike, very hard to distinguish."
"It’s Ono Komachi," Hoshimi Rinko said, "The waka poem speaks of the evergreen Japanese black pine, with spring colors even more vibrant. Mother thought this season perfectly suited the ambience of the painting and thus hung it out."
Fujiwara Reya carefully admired it once more.
The painting, outlined in light ink-wash, seed to exude a faint fragrance.
Just as he was about to ask how much it was worth, the paper sliding door at the entrance suddenly opened, and soone walked in.
Fujiwara Reya’s attention was instantly drawn.
Wearing a set of bright red kimono, with a black belt around her waist and gold-thread embroidered vine patterns at the sleeves, Kasahara Fukaeri walked in with the deanor of attending court like an empress, her posture dignified and graceful.
Her hair was tied up at the back of her head, with a long hairpin stuck in it, her face cold and noble as she walked directly towards the head seat.
The ladies on both sides couldn’t help whispering in admiration: "Fukaeri is so beautiful!"
I agree... Fujiwara Reya’s gaze fell on Kasahara Fukaeri, the shadow of the indoor bamboo casting on her snow-treasure-white neck, lending a gentle glow to her striking kimono’s shoulder. Her fla-colored hair blazed brighter, like burning flas flickering with grace.
Kasahara Fukaeri’s sight naturally fell on Fujiwara Reya as well, giving him a slight nod.
Fujiwara Reya, pleasantly surprised, asked, "Why did Miss Fukaeri co?"
"Mother finds it troubleso to go out on rainy days." Kasahara Fukaeri’s voice was still devoid of ups and downs, "My younger sister intended to co, but upon hearing you were here, decided against it. So I am here representing the Tokyo Grand Shrine."
"Fukaeri, co sit here." Mrs. Hoshimi greeted warmly.
Originally planning to walk towards Fujiwara Reya, Kasahara Fukaeri paused, turned instead towards the other direction, and sat on Mrs. Hoshimi’s left side, separated by over two ters from Fujiwara Reya on her right.
Once she sat down, most of the room’s eyes remained fixed upon her.
Miss Kasahara, with her usual aloofness, rarely appeared in such public places, so she easily beca the focus of the crowd.
Surrounded by everyone’s gaze, Kasahara Fukaeri sat expressionlessly and properly in a kneeling position, motionless like a statue. Her eyes did not even land on any of the attendees, simply looking calmly at the tea table, her sleeves in sultry red.
How strange... Fujiwara Reya had this illusion, clearly, her aura was icy, yet the vibrant, passionate red seed to be her most fitting color.
In the slightly dim tea room, there were originally many colors. But after she appeared, the world seed reduced to just red, even making the dim tea room brighter.
Reviews
All reviews (0)