"How much profit can one make from farming?"
"If the fields are tended with care, the weather is favorable, the seasons are not missed, and the market is right, you can earn tenfold within a few years."
"And from running a shop, trading goods?"
"With sharp judgnt, seizing opportunities, buying low and selling high, and monopolizing rare goods, you could earn a hundredfold within a few years."
"Then what about controlling the military and political power of an entire nation? How much profit could that yield?"
"This..."
Hirata Kōzaburō was montarily at a loss for words. He wasn't entirely surprised by Jinghang's line of thinking; after all, he too had entertained thoughts of replacing the Mid-Mountain Green Palace's master. But that was just idle fantasy. The difficulty was simply too great. Dostic issues, international concerns, the ninja class, the samurai class, the civilian population—any one of these could spiral into disaster. Why bother with such a convoluted plan when he could simply enjoy his wealth in peace?
"Dear brother, while you have soldiers and I have money, rebellion is the greatest trouble of all. It involves every facet of dostic and international politics, and pulling on one thread could unravel the entire fabric.
"Moreover, disrupting the current political balance of the ninja world would undoubtedly alarm the Daimyōs of the other four great nations, triggering a powerful backlash. We would beco the target of all, besieged from every side. No matter how skilled you are, even a tiger cannot withstand a pack of wolves. My advice: let this idea go and never bring it up again."
Jinghang smirked playfully, picked up a slice of lamb, swirled it in the hotpot, and placed it into Kōzaburō's dipping sauce.
"When did I ever say I wanted to rebel? That old cushion in the main hall of the Mid-Mountain Green Palace looks uncomfortable to sit on. I have no interest in it."
He picked up another slice of lamb and began cooking it.
"Oh, then I'm relieved. Hmm, this is quite good!"
Kōzaburō chewed on the lamb, his eyes lighting up as he followed Jinghang's lead, eagerly dipping more slices into the bubbling broth.
"What I'm interested in is the power that cushion represents."
"Ah—hot! Hot! Sss! Isn't that... the sa thing?" Kōzaburō exclaid, his mouth burning from the scalding food.
"No, no, not entirely the sa," Jinghang said, shaking his head emphatically.
"How so?" Kōzaburō asked, puzzled.
"Tell , where does the Daimyō's power originate? What is its foundation?"
"Why, from the land, of course," Kōzaburō replied without hesitation. As the saying goes, With land cos people, with land cos grain, with land cos wealth. With people, grain, and wealth, there is the Daimyō, and thus the Daimyō's power.
"And if the Daimyō had no land?" Jinghang asked, a devilish smile creeping across his face.
"Then he'd just be a figurehead. But how could he lose his land? Are you planning to send your ninja to seize it? Wouldn't that still be rebellion?"
"Haha, but what if he carelessly gave it away himself?" Jinghang chuckled, though his tone carried a hint of seriousness.
Clatter.
Kōzaburō's chopsticks fell onto the table in shock. But as a man who had navigated the treacherous waters of comrce for nearly thirty years, he quickly pieced together the implications and exclaid excitedly, "You an... Yuexi Peninsula!?"
"Hahaha, sharp as ever, old brother. You catch on quickly," Jinghang said, clearly pleased.
Kōzaburō's adrenaline surged as the sheer audacity of the idea dawned on him. His mind raced, rapidly filling in the gaps of this bold plan. Jinghang, unfazed by Kōzaburō's reaction, continued:
"I've already arranged with Tsuchikage Onoki and Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi to reconvene the Five Kage Summit at Yuexi Peninsula in a year. I'm confident the Raikage and Mizukage won't refuse either; envoys have already been dispatched.
"Now, such an important eting—don't you think the Daimyōs of the Five Great Nations would feel out of place staying ho?"
"Of course, they would."
"Shouldn't they gather at a high-end venue to discuss matters of state?"
"Absolutely."
"And after their discussions, wouldn't it make sense for them to unwind at an upscale entertainnt venue?"
"No doubt about it."
"So, what's the most entertaining activity Yuexi Peninsula has to offer?"
"Gambling, of course!"
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
The two n locked eyes and burst into uproarious laughter.
At that mont, Jinghang couldn't help but recall a character from a movie he'd seen in his previous life, A City Called Macau. The character, Kevin, had risen from a penniless student with a bag of pancakes to beco a billionaire real estate tycoon, exuding charm and brilliance.
But once Kevin succumbed to gambling, he lost everything—his dignity, his charisma, his very identity—becoming a pathetic, lying shell of a man.
If soone as formidable as Kevin could be undone by the beast of gambling, what chance did a re provincial Daimyō have? Once he was ensnared, escape would be impossible.
"As the saying goes, 'Fortune favors the bold.' Old brother, do you dare join in this gamble?" Jinghang declared, slamming his palm on the table with authority.
"Your audacity is boundless, and your mind is wicked. To even conceive of such a plan—this is treason on a grand scale!" Kōzaburō said, picking up his chopsticks.
"Thieves are punished, kings are crowned! What's the matter? Are you scared?" Jinghang taunted.
"Scared?! Don't be ridiculous. Go ask around in Dragonfly Castle—I, Hirata Kōzaburō, am no coward! Did I not marry the infamous Black Widow who buried three husbands? And look at now—alive and well!
"With such imnse wealth and unimaginable benefits at stake, why wouldn't I take the risk? Let's do it! At worst, I'll lose this hundred-sothing pounds of flesh."
Kōzaburō's wine-fueled bravado was palpable as he even brought up his notorious marital history.
Jinghang waved his hand dismissively and said, "Relax, old brother. We don't need your hundred-sothing pounds. All we need is his land, his people, and his power. The Daimyō title can remain his. We'll establish a shogunate—I'll handle military and political affairs, while you manage civil administration.
"The Daimyō? Let him stay at the Wind Temple, tending to his ancestors' morial tablets. Every year, we'll toss him a few scraps of silver. This way, we change the substance but not the form, old wine in a new bottle. It'll satisfy both dostic and foreign audiences. The other four Daimyōs won't have grounds to object, and who knows? Their ninja villages might even follow our example."
"Brilliant, dear brother, absolutely brilliant! If you weren't a ninja or the Kazekage, I'd insist on making you my guildmaster."
There it was again. Why did this business mogul insist on using terminology that made him sound like a gang leader?
"This is a grand sche that will take ti, resources, and manpower. We must plan ticulously, accounting for every detail and potential contingency. After we finish this al, let's find a place to draft the preliminary frawork," Jinghang said, his tone now calm and analytical.
"Understood. My family's team of actuaries is highly skilled at calculating probabilities. Whether in business or politics, the principles are the sa. I'll write to them imdiately and have them join us. Whatever resources or funds you need, just say the word," Kōzaburō said with a sweeping gesture, exuding confidence.
And so, in the steamy private room of a hotpot restaurant, a covert plan to usurp the power of the Wind Daimyō began to take shape.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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