"What happened?" Fang Zuo pulled her up, asking.
Shiraishi Nagiso shook her head, burying herself deeper into his embrace.
Tears welled in her eyes, pearly drops tracing paths down her cheeks, a picture of delicate vulnerability that paradoxically evoked a primal urge to unleash overwhelming force. Moonlight glinted off her nude stockings, enhancing their sensual allure.
"Master..."
Her voice was a husky whisper, trembling with lingering echoes of pleasure and pain. She bit her lower lip, her gaze smoldering yet still glistening with unshed tears.
....
The living room lay in disarray.
On the sofa.
Shiraishi Nagiso, pale and lamb-like, curled weakly in Fang Zuo's arms.
"My family contacted me... the foster mother who raised me as a child... she passed away."
"Besides Yui... I have no family left now."
She glanced up at the man, finding him listening intently. A deeper sense of contentment washed over her.
"Women of the Shiraishi family are resources to be traded for profit."
"I was merely a tool for my family's alliance with the Takeda clan through marriage."
"Even... a tool implicitly offered for sacrifice."
"The Takeda Onmyoji have researched the summoning of Takeda Shingen's Sixth Heavenly Demon for a long time."
"They paid a heavy price to the Shiraishi family for several generations of women."
"Many secret rites were attempted... all failed."
"Until Takeda Nobuo, my nominal husband, obtained a Black Bible."
"Following its methods, he discovered it could truly summon the demon."
"Fortunately... I met you, Master."
As she spoke, Shiraishi Nagiso nuzzled her face deeper into Fang Zuo's chest, pressing closer. Her finger traced idle circles on his pectoral muscle.
"Yui said you were selling the house," Fang Zuo stated, his hand stroking the smooth, bare skin of her back.
"Hai!" Shiraishi Nagiso arched her back slightly, a soft moan nearly escaping her lips. His touch was magical, bringing profound relaxation.
"My relationship with the Takeda clan was contractual. His assets were prenuptially certified. Upon his death... nothing came to me."
"The Shiraishi family severed ties... offering no support."
"If I want to climb higher in the Diet... I need more funds."
"Don't worry. After selling this villa, I have an apartment nearby. It's quite large, enough for the three of us."
When she said "the three of us," she glanced at Fang Zuo, relieved to see his expression unchanged. Happily, she kissed his chest.
"Once I secure more political donations... I'll buy it back."
"Yui is very reluctant," Fang Zuo remarked.
"So am I," Shiraishi Nagiso admitted. "Despite everything... I designed and decorated this villa myself."
"Here." Fang Zuo pulled out a document folder and handed it to her. "Consider it a gift."
"Nani? A gift?" Surprise and delight lit her face as she opened the folder.
"This... this is..." Her hands trembled as she scanned the papers. Finishing the last line, she looked up, disbelief etched on her features. "This is the deed to the Xinrong Planning Building? It's... yours?"
Fang Zuo nodded.
"But... I heard Xinrong Planning is the Sakura family's asset? Their Tokyo headquarters?"
"It's mine now," Fang Zuo stated calmly. "I can transfer it to you."
"To me?" Shiraishi Nagiso covered her mouth, breathing rapidly with excitement, her chest heaving in tremendous waves. A property like Xinrong Planning in Shinjuku was worth an astronomical sum.
Then she shook her head. "My position is too sensitive. Transferring it directly to me would be dug up by reporters instantly. Abe Nasuzume would use it as ammunition."
Fang Zuo shrugged. "Dispose of it as you wish. Or... do this: all floors except the top two are yours to rent out. Keep all the rental income."
"The top two floors are already finished apartments. Knock out the walls, create a massive duplex penthouse."
"After renovation... it will be our residence."
Shiraishi Nagiso nodded eagerly. His solution was perfect. The rental income from 14 floors in Shinjuku would easily fund her political ambitions.
Hearing him say "our residence" filled her with indescribable joy.
With a soft whimper, she clung to him tightly.
She didn't ask how he acquired the building. A smart woman never asked unnecessary questions. If the man wanted to tell her, she would listen. If not, she wouldn't pry.
Fang Zuo scooped her up, bridal style, making her gasp in mock alarm. "Master, I truly can't... anymore."
Fang Zuo chuckled. "Just taking you for a bath. Then you can tell me what you know about the Onmyoji families."
...
In the second-floor bedroom.
Shiraishi Nagiso lay fast asleep.
Despite her earlier protests of exhaustion, she had rallied for another round. While tiring, the act itself held profound benefits for her, aligning with the Daoist principle of "Yellow Emperor's Red Seal" cultivation for longevity.
During the process, Fang Zuo had pressed her for information on the Onmyoji families. Poor Nagiso, biting her lip, mind adrift in pleasure, had answered his questions in fragmented, breathless whispers.
As she wasn't an Onmyoji herself, her understanding of the broader dynamics was limited. She mainly outlined the major contemporary schools of Japanese Onmyodo.
Fang Zuo had assumed Tokyo, beneath its surface, must be the stronghold of the Onmyoji families. Nagiso's explanation revealed a different reality.
Much like Buddhism and Taoism faced persecution in various Chinese dynasties, the Onmyoji had weathered the storms of successive Shogunates. The most recent upheaval came after Japan's defeat in World War II.
During the war, Onmyoji had joined the Imperial Army. Post-surrender, following the historical pattern of hunting down the hounds once the hare is caught, the government initiated a brutal purge. Onmyoji families were forcibly expelled from Tokyo, suffering heavy losses. Those who resisted fiercely were often exterminated entirely.
Knowing they couldn't oppose the overwhelming tide, the surviving Onmyoji families retreated into hiding across the Japanese countryside.
This government purge crippled the Onmyoji's ability to combat Yokai, allowing Japan's monstrous tribes to resurge. Later, as Sakura Momo had mentioned, a fragile peace treaty was signed between Yokai and Onmyoji.
During Japan's economic boom, Onmyoji families infiltrated the business world, establishing many famous corporations riding the economic wave. However, with Japan's economic stagnation over the past thirty years and a perceived weakening of government control, these families, cloaked as businessmen, gradually returned to Tokyo.
They even infiltrated the political sphere.
Fang Zuo stroked his chin.
Abe Nasuzume... she's likely one of the Onmyoji families' chosen representatives to seize national power.
Meaning she didn't just aspire to be Prime Minister. She wanted to restore the Onmyoji families' former glory?
One thing puzzled Fang Zuo, though.
If her brother had already become Prime Minister, wouldn't that goal be achieved?
So why was he assassinated?
Who did it?
Was it truly just an ordinary accident?
He didn't delve too deeply into the reasons behind it. There was a nagging feeling that his arrival in Japan, landing precisely where he did, wasn't entirely coincidental. It felt orchestrated by a larger, unseen hand.
In this modern world of dwindling spiritual energy, revered as the cultivator most likely to achieve ascension, Fang Zuo had still failed his tribulation.
Since he was here, overwhelming force would be his answer. Absolute power rendered intricate schemes laughable. Brute strength shattered delicate tricks.
After internal meditation and spiritual circulation, Fang Zuo opened his eyes.
Morning had arrived.
The woman beside him murmured softly, turning over in her sleep.
She reached out and wrapped her arms around him.
"Awake? Breakfast?"
Fang Zuo asked.