Chapter 41: Three Toasts

The car came to a smooth halt in front of a small temple. The middle-aged man stepped out and respectfully opened the door. Receiving guests at a temple might seem strange, but in the traditions of this island nation, it was in fact a most formal and solemn welcoming ceremony. Xiao Kaitian understood this well. With unruffled composure, he straightened his suit jacket and followed behind the middle-aged man.

They crossed the courtyard, rain falling softly. The middle-aged man led Xiao Kaitian to a reception hall, where he knelt, slid open the door with both hands, and bowed deeply, “Master Waka, Mr. Xiao has arrived.”

“Ah, welcome, welcome,” a young man in black haori and hakama stood up. It was Hojo Shuichi, the young master of the Hojo family, who greeted them with a smile as gentle as a spring breeze. “Please, do come in, Mr. Xiao, there’s no need to stand on ceremony.”

Inside the room sat an elderly, balding man in a light gray kimono. Unlike Hojo Shuichi, he offered no enthusiastic welcome, only a slight nod before resuming his motionless seat behind a low table.

Xiao Kaitian’s gaze flickered. The old man’s fighting strength was 278—the highest Xiao Kaitian had encountered since arriving in this world. Though the elder reined in his aura fiercely, his presence still radiated an unmistakable intensity.

“Interesting,” thought Xiao Kaitian. He stepped into the room with a smile, nodding to the two men. Two more low tables were set, laden with wine and food. The central table was Hojo Shuichi’s; the one opposite the old man was clearly intended for himself.

“Please, sit, do sit,” Hojo Shuichi gestured with warm hospitality, waiting for Xiao Kaitian to be seated before leisurely returning to his own place. “Mr. Xiao, you’ve come a long way—I offer you a toast.”

They drank sake. Given the formality of the occasion, there were no serving maids present, but Xiao Kaitian didn’t mind. He poured himself a small cup and raised it in salute before drinking.

“This is Ryuzen Junmai Daiginjo,” Hojo Shuichi announced with some pride. “Sweet on the palate, smooth in texture. I hope it suits your taste, Mr. Xiao.”

“It’s quite good,” Xiao Kaitian replied. The sake was indeed excellent, though its flavor was unfamiliar to him. “But truthfully, I’m more accustomed to tea than wine.”

“Every country has its delights,” Hojo Shuichi responded, unoffended, still smiling. “As for me, I find I have a taste for the fine wines of Han and Tang as well.”

“You are quite right,” Xiao Kaitian answered, offering no argument. “In that case, I shall savor this Daiginjo properly.”

“Of course, of course,” Hojo Shuichi beamed with pleasure.

“It is fine wine,” the elderly man suddenly spoke, his voice cold, sharp, and metallic, grating unpleasantly on the ear. “But drinking alone is a lonely affair. Allow me to offer you a cup, Mr. Xiao.”

“This is a senior member of my family,” Hojo Shuichi interjected, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced between them. “By lineage, I must call him uncle—this is Hojo Tsuna.”

“Very well,” Xiao Kaitian accepted without hesitation, raising his cup.

“Please!” Hojo Tsuna, holding his own cup with both hands, bowed toward Xiao Kaitian.

In that instant, the table before Xiao Kaitian began to tremble. Cracks crept along its edges with a brittle “craack.” A sharp, invisible blade aura surged at Xiao Kaitian, coiling before him before swiftly dissipating. Xiao Kaitian’s expression did not change; he seemed utterly unaware of the attack as he tipped back his drink.

Only then did a trace of caution appear on Hojo Tsuna’s face. He fixed Xiao Kaitian with an unblinking stare and slowly drank his own cup.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, like a balloon stretched to its limit, needing only a single touch to burst.

Hojo Shuichi, who had been smiling all along, now grew solemn as he observed the exchange.

“Fine wine—permit me to be bold and offer you a second cup.”

“Please.”

The ritual repeated itself, but this time Hojo Tsuna moved even more deliberately, extending the cup with measured slowness. Instantly, cracks spiderwebbed across Xiao Kaitian’s table, the ceramics, the cups—even the wallpaper behind him split in several places with a series of sharp, crackling sounds.

Xiao Kaitian smiled, drank his sake, and showed the empty cup.

The entire exchange lasted only seconds, but to Hojo Shuichi seated between them, it felt as though hours had passed. A bead of sweat gathered on his temple.

“Mr. Xiao, you hold your liquor well,” Hojo Tsuna murmured, lowering his gaze. “As for the third cup, it seems I must drink it myself—unless you object.”

Xiao Kaitian shook his head. Hojo Tsuna bowed and downed the final cup.

The outcome of the first two toasts was so unexpected that Hojo Tsuna abandoned any further attempts at probing.

With the formalities concluded, Xiao Kaitian saw no reason to linger. He turned to Hojo Shuichi, “Master Waka, my purpose in coming to this country was due to some trouble my elder sister encountered here. Now that it’s resolved, I have no intention of remaining long.”

“As for the collaboration with the Ogiwara clan, it was a passing arrangement. If you are ever interested in future cooperation, I would not be opposed.”

Xiao Kaitian knew his counterpart was already well aware of these matters, so he chose to state his position plainly. If the Hojo family still refused to yield, he did not mind adding an enemy.

“I understand you perfectly, Mr. Xiao. If you ever have need of the Hojo family’s assistance in this region, simply send word.”

“Very well.” Xiao Kaitian lifted his cup. “Then I shall take my leave.”

“Please.”

After draining the last cup, Xiao Kaitian strode out. Hojo Shuichi watched him go, then asked distractedly, “What do you think?”

“There are two possibilities: either he is unfathomably deep...” Hojo Tsuna sighed, speaking honestly.

For the first aura attack, he had used less than twenty percent of his strength, intending only to intimidate. Xiao Kaitian had dissolved it without concern. For the second, he used seventy percent of his power, and still Xiao Kaitian brushed it aside as if it were nothing.

There was no reason to continue probing further.

“Whether he is a martial adept, I cannot say—there is no martial aura about him,” Hojo Tsuna explained, as if facing a wall so thick his blade could not pierce it. “Of course, there is another possibility: he is a fool carrying some defensive treasure from Han or Tang, which protected him from my attacks.”

“Which do you think is more likely?”

“Surely Master Waka already has his conclusions.” Hojo Tsuna paid him no more heed, pouring himself another drink.

Hojo Shuichi was not displeased. He curled his lips into a faint smile, gazing up at the somber sky. “It’s going to snow, isn’t it...”