Chapter 77: Boating on Flowing Clouds

The summer in Kyoto was hot and stuffy, but fortunately, the divine garden had water and trees, so it was still cool at night.

Minamoto Kiyomoto and Kamibayashi Miko were reading in the pavilion together. The occasional rustling of turning pages was pleasant.

Shirako and the little butterfly would run into the pavilion from the flower bushes from time to time, holding fireflies they had caught.

At this moment, a little miko walked in and said that someone was looking for Minamoto Kiyomoto.

“Didn’t I say I wasn’t seeing anyone?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked strangely.

“It’s someone from the palace,” the little miko replied.

Minamoto Kiyomoto looked at the book in his hand. He had no choice but to put it face down on the table and follow the little miko.

As soon as the two of them left, the little butterfly flew in crying, “Lady Miko, Lady Miko, Shirako is bullying me!”

“I’m not!” Shirako ran in from behind, shouting.

Kamibayashi Miko put down her book and asked the little butterfly gently, “How did Shirako bully you?”

“She caught a butterfly and killed it. I know, the little butterfly knows, this is killing the chicken to warn the monkey,” the little butterfly knelt in Kamibayashi Miko’s palm, sobbing, with crystal clear tears falling one by one.

“That was a moth! Not a butterfly!” Shirako cried out in protest.

Kamibayashi Miko extended her finger and smiled as she stroked the heartbroken little butterfly.

◇

Instead of going to the Daigokuden Hall, the little miko led Minamoto Kiyomoto to a side hall. This was the place where some nobles usually held Shinto-style weddings.

The miko’s etiquette training was also held here.

The people from the palace were here to teach Minamoto Kiyomoto the rules of the palace.

How to walk, how to sit, how to bow, and how to speak, to prevent him from doing anything inappropriate when he was preaching.

The Sewing Department also sent a set of clothes.

Minamoto Kiyomoto had no title and no official position. Although he was once the young head of the Minamoto clan, he had already severed ties, so he could not wear the daily clothes of a court noble—a hunting robe.

The Sewing Department sent a kimono and a haori.

Minamoto Kiyomoto had a set, given to him by Kamibayashi Miko, a black kimono and a white haori. Now, this set from the Sewing Department, the kimono was still black, but the haori had become red.

“Why is it red?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked with confusion.

“Lord Kiyomoto, please rest assured,” the female official from the Sewing Department said. “This slightly dark red is very suitable for men. It can bring out the masculine aura to the fullest, and it can also set off your maturity and wisdom.”

“…Can’t I change it?”

“You can’t,” the female official’s voice was gentle, but her tone was firm.

Minamoto Kiyomoto tried it on on the spot. He originally thought it would be very annoying, but the black and red combination inexplicably made him feel a sense of intimacy. He didn’t know if it was the influence of the red and black evil dragon.

Whether it was a masculine aura, maturity, or wisdom, he didn’t see any of it. Instead, there was a sense of dark and powerful strength.

He shook his sleeves. He was undeniably dashing, just a little flamboyant.

He suddenly thought of something and asked the female official from the Sewing Department, “Did Izayoi choose this outfit?”

“I’m sorry, this is a secret,” the female official from the Sewing Department had an expression that said she couldn’t say much about matters in the palace. “Please look with your hands behind your back.”

“With my hands behind my back?” Minamoto Kiyomoto put his hands behind his back.

The female official from the Sewing Department’s eyes shone as she looked at him. The next moment, she requested, “Please give me your autograph!”

“…” Now that she said that, Minamoto Kiyomoto wanted to wear it for Kamibayashi Miko to see.

But he was afraid that she would say he was childish, so he planned to save it for the Summer Festival and wear it nonchalantly.

After trying it on, Minamoto Kiyomoto immediately took it off. He might not dislike the clothes, but after all, it was red, and it was a little uncomfortable as daily wear.

Before leaving, the female official in charge of etiquette said to Minamoto Kiyomoto:

“Lord Kiyomoto, there will be a fireworks display at the Uji River tomorrow. You can go and have a look when you come back from the palace early.”

“Got it,” Minamoto Kiyomoto guessed that this female official was from the Minamoto clan’s ‘Kiyo’ generation or ‘Shi’ generation.

He quickly forgot about this matter, but on the long corridor to the pavilion, looking at the lights reflected in the water, he suddenly had an idea.

On August 4th, he entered the Imperial Palace, preparing to meet the “Lord of Kyoto.”

After passing through the Rashomon Gate and walking along the long Suzaku Avenue, the Suzaku Gate was in front of him.

Minamoto Kiyomoto took a few more glances. Whether it was because the Vermilion Bird came from China, or because the Vermilion Bird had burned his power-seeking father to death, he cared.

In fact, the Suzaku Gate was just the Suzaku Gate. The real Vermilion Bird spirit was in the Ogura Pond south of Kyoto.

The fief of the Minamoto clan—Uji—was also south of Kyoto, and the Vermilion Bird Flute, which could control the Vermilion Bird, was also in the hands of the Minamoto clan.

After passing through the Suzaku Gate, he had officially entered the Imperial Palace.

Walking in the city of white walls and black tiles, Minamoto Kiyomoto felt a lot: the vastness of history, the majesty of power, and the wonder of curses.

From the Tang Dynasty to the present day, it was unknown how many masters had arranged it. Every brick and tile was exquisite.

Entering the Imperial Palace, the corridors were winding. When walking, the sound of the floor was actually like the chirping of orioles, which was very magical.

The doors and walls in the palace were all decorated with matching paintings.

The paintings near the Shishinden Hall were all of tigers and leopards, ferocious and majestic, at the same level as the visitors’ line of sight, giving people the feeling of being stared at.

A slightly timid person would probably have to walk with their head down in fear.

After passing the Shishinden Hall and turning left, it was the Seiryoden Hall.

This was the place where the “Lord of Kyoto” lived and handled government affairs daily. The murals also changed from the majestic atmosphere of the Shishinden Hall to elegant ink wash paintings.

There were even famous scenic spots in China such as the West Lake. The coloring was light, the brushwork was graceful, and it was full of a quiet and peaceful atmosphere.

The windows of the Seiryoden Hall were also simple and elegant, and no matter which window was opened, one could see a cool and green scenery.

When he arrived at the front of the hall, the messenger who led the way went in to announce him. Only then could Minamoto Kiyomoto go up the steps and enter the hall.

The yellow curtains in the hall hung low, giving people a feeling of vastness and unfathomability.

The candles were bright, and a faint fragrance assailed the nostrils. It was unknown where the incense was burning.

“Minamoto Kiyomoto pays his respects to Your Majesty!” Minamoto Kiyomoto bowed in accordance with the etiquette.

His clear voice echoed in the hall.

“Sit,” a female official ordered.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Minamoto Kiyomoto raised his head and sat cross-legged on the cushion in front of the imperial curtain.

The figures behind the imperial curtain were blurry. He could only vaguely see a few figures in wide kimonos.

The person sitting on the throne, just by looking at the blurry outline of their clothes, one could tell that they were magnificent and majestic.

And the figure on the throne gave people a sense of grandeur. It seemed to be emitting a glow, but also seemed not to. It was ambiguous and very mysterious.

According to the rules, the use of divine power was prohibited in the hall, but Minamoto Kiyomoto would enter a state of ‘heaven and man as one’ from time to time, and he had also merged with a yokai that symbolized the breath of the divine. Even if he didn’t use his divine power, he could vaguely perceive the changes in the breath of the divine.

In this Seiryoden Hall, all the divine breath seemed to be alive, as if a living yokai was inhabiting it, which was frightening.

Countless thoughts flashed through Minamoto Kiyomoto’s mind, but in the end, he extinguished them all.

“Reporting to Your Majesty,” he said in a loud voice, “the ‘Mahavairocana Sutra’ is not so much a curse as it is a book. It tells of what Shakyamuni saw, heard, touched, and thought, and these are the experiences, knowledge, laws, and theorems that all living beings pursue…”

Minamoto Kiyomoto explained the sutra word by word.

To his surprise, the worst person in the hall could still hold on for a third of the time. It was not until the sutra was halfway through that only he and the “Lord of Kyoto” were left in the Seiryoden Hall.

This was also a chance to test the waters, Minamoto Kiyomoto thought, and continued to speak.

At this moment, a female official suddenly walked in from behind him.

“Your Majesty,” the female official said respectfully, “the Divine Lord of Shikoku requests an audience.”

“Let her in.”

This was the first time Minamoto Kiyomoto knew that an order could have such a beautiful and pleasant echo, both calm and majestic, and unquestionable.

He stopped preaching and waited quietly, sizing up this “Lord of Kyoto” in his heart.

Her voice sounded like she was in her thirties, or maybe in her twenties, but as long as it was a woman, just by listening to her voice, or even looking at her appearance, it was all fake.

His mother was forty years old, but she looked like she was just over thirty. Her voice was also young. The “Lord of Kyoto” in front of him might be in the same situation.

As he was thinking, he suddenly thought: it’s a pity I didn’t meet Himemiya Izayoi. I wonder where she is? Is she in charge of the Summer Festival?
He had originally thought that this time he entered the palace, even if he couldn’t speak, he could at least see her.

At this time, the Divine Lord of Shikoku had already walked in. She was a woman.

Looking at her hair, she was at least sixty, but her waist was straight. She was old but not faded, and still very beautiful.

“Your Majesty,” the Divine Lord of Shikoku bowed. Her voice was sonorous and powerful, and every word was like a nail hammered into the ground.

The “Lord of Kyoto” did not speak. A leisurely attitude came from behind the imperial curtain.

The Divine Lord of Shikoku paused for a moment and continued, “The Kamo River stage has been roughly set up. Only the flowers have not been decided.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto had heard that every year during the Summer Festival, both banks of the Kamo River, which flowed through Kyoto Prefecture, would be transplanted with flowers, stretching for an unknown number of kilometers, which was a magnificent sight.

“The Grand Minister recommends hibiscus, the Minister of the Left recommends crape myrtle, the Minister of the Right recommends bellflowers, the Minister of the Interior recommends gentian, and I recommend golden dew.”

After the Divine Lord of Shikoku finished speaking, the hall fell silent.

The “Lord of Kyoto” seemed to be thinking about what flower to choose, or maybe she had fallen asleep.

The curtains in the hall fluttered gently, and it was so quiet that one could even hear the sound of the incense burning.

After a long time, amidst the curling white smoke of the incense, the voice of the “Lord of Kyoto” came down:
“Cherry blossoms, I guess.”

“Cherry blossoms?” the Divine Lord of Shikoku asked with confusion.

Minamoto Kiyomoto also felt strange. The flowers recommended by the ministers just now, whether it was hibiscus, crape myrtle, bellflowers, gentian, or golden dew, were all summer flowers.

There was no sound in the hall again. The “Lord of Kyoto” seemed not to intend to answer the Divine Lord of Shikoku’s question. She had already finished speaking.

“Your Majesty,” the Lord of Shikoku had to speak again, “cherry blossoms bloom in April, at the latest in May. In some special places, they may bloom out of season, but even if we collect them all, it will not be enough to fill the Kamo River.”

“Then change the season,” the “Lord of Kyoto” said slowly. “Order people to cast spells in turn, so that Kyoto will turn into spring before the Summer Festival, and then let the various daimyos offer cherry blossoms.”

“…Yes,” the Lord of Shikoku bowed and retreated.

Minamoto Kiyomoto’s eyes widened in disbelief.

This was not one or two, not a hundred or a thousand, but at least tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of cherry blossoms.

Was this the capacity to be the “Lord of Kyoto”? Only today did Minamoto Kiyomoto understand what a true superior was.

He usually shouted about changing the world, but anyone could shout such slogans.

He had never thought that with a single order, tens of millions of people would act, changing the weather, just to put his words into practice and let both banks of the Kamo River be filled with cherry blossoms in August.

This was even more powerful than a curse, it was a miracle!
Minamoto Kiyomoto came out of the Seiryoden Hall, feeling that his worldview had changed. His heart was restless. For the first time in his life, he had a desire for power.

Walking on the corridor, he was deep in thought when a group of people, all female officials, came towards him.

The female attendants’ clothes were all simple. Only the person who was surrounded by them was wearing a bright yellow satin kimono, which was graceful and gorgeous, and charming.

It was Himemiya Izayoi, whom he had not seen for a few days.

“Long time no see,” a smile naturally appeared on Minamoto Kiyomoto’s face.

“It’s only been three days, and it’s already a long time no see? Do you miss me that much?” Himemiya Izayoi opened her fan and covered her mouth as she laughed.

Her eyes sized up his clothes, and her eyes showed satisfaction.

“A little bit.”

“I don’t believe you,” Himemiya Izayoi closed her fan and said with a smile. “You’re the stinky man who went to the flower street as soon as I left.”

“I was tricked by that guy Ichijo Shinya, but I don’t need to explain to you. The one I like is Miss Kamibayashi,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

“You ungrateful fellow. I even speak well of you in the palace every day and send you flowers,” Himemiya Izayoi said mournfully.

“Thank you, Lady Izayoi,” Minamoto Kiyomoto bowed respectfully with the new etiquette he had just learned.

“No need, you may rise.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

The two of them looked at each other and smiled.

“I have something to do, so I’ll be leaving first,” Himemiya Izayoi said.

“Alright,” Minamoto Kiyomoto moved aside.

As she passed him, Himemiya Izayoi said in a low voice:
“Perform well at the Summer Festival. I’ve already told His Majesty about you. At that time, even if your own strength is not enough, I can still make you a Kosen.”

“I promise not to disappoint you, big sister.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto found that she, in a bright yellow kimono, was so noble and gorgeous that it was a little hard to look at her directly.

The female attendants stood behind her, making her look calm and majestic.

The fair neck exposed outside the collar was even more charming and full of magical brilliance.

He calmed his mind and silently recited Kamibayashi Miko’s name. Only she could resist Himemiya Izayoi’s charm.

Returning to Heian Shrine and changing back into his daily clothes, he continued to browse bookstores with Kamibayashi Miko during the day.

This time, they went to an old bookstore called ‘Shogakudo.’

From three to five o’clock, there was a heavy rain, and the temperature dropped sharply.

The news began to report that the recent weather was abnormal, reminding the citizens of Kyoto to pay attention to the temperature changes.

“It’s starting,” at five o’clock, the rain stopped. Minamoto Kiyomoto felt the much cooler dusk.

After dinner, after dark, he went to find Kamibayashi Miko again.

“Miss Kamibayashi, I’ll take you somewhere.”

“Where to?” Kamibayashi Miko had just finished dinner and was lazily digesting and reading a book.

“Just follow me.”

The two of them came to a high altitude and stood on the clouds.

The moonlight was like water, the clouds were like the sea, and the world was vast. They seemed to have come to the end of the world, or to be at the center of the world.

Minamoto Kiyomoto raised his hand, blew a breath into his palm, and the sea of clouds churned. A wooden boat slowly floated up from the “sea”—a derivative of the “Divine Weapon Curse.”

“Come,” Minamoto Kiyomoto got on the boat first and extended his hand to Kamibayashi Miko.

Kamibayashi Miko glanced at him, did not give him her hand, and walked onto the cloud boat herself. The boat immediately shook.

“Hey, be careful!” Minamoto Kiyomoto quickly supported her arm.

Kamibayashi Miko’s eyes stared at him without blinking.

“This is for realism,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said with a grin, not at all embarrassed.

Kamibayashi Miko pulled back her arm and walked to the stern of the boat to sit down.

Because the lake was too wide, and there was nothing to block the view, only the starry sky above, the small boat seemed to be floating in the void.

Minamoto Kiyomoto scooped up a handful of the sea of clouds, and a long “bamboo pole” appeared in his hand.

He said with a smile, “Let’s set sail!”

He pushed the bamboo pole hard against the “rocks on the shore of the lake,” and the small boat glided towards the vast water surface.

The moonlit lake water rippled, and the boat glided across the water, making a very pleasant and clear sound.

As the small boat moved forward, various scenes appeared in the sea of clouds.

A spouting whale, a mosasaur hunting, a human-sized lotus flower, a leaping carp.

Kamibayashi Miko sat on the small boat, her figure sometimes hidden by the lotus flowers, and sometimes a carp would jump to her feet.

She smiled and looked at Minamoto Kiyomoto, reached out her hand, and put the carp back into the sea of clouds.

The carp flicked its tail and disappeared from view, leaving only ripples on the surface of the lake.

Minamoto Kiyomoto inserted the bamboo pole into the bottom of the lake, pushed gently, and the small boat glided forward leisurely.

The two of them entered a dense bamboo forest like the sea. The wind in the forest blew her black hair, and she tucked the strands that brushed past her cheeks.

The moonlight in the bamboo forest moved on her cheeks, as beautiful as a dream.

Out of the bamboo forest, it was a river, a river sandwiched between high mountains on both sides. The small boat was pushed forward rapidly by the turbulent current.

The waves splashed, hitting her skirt, and turned back into wisps of flowing clouds.

When the water flow slowed down, they came to a long embankment.

The willows on the long embankment were swaying, and there were endless pedestrians on the road. Someone was washing clothes by the river;
Leaving the river embankment, they sailed into a small stream, nearly half of which was covered with reeds. A fisherman was fishing, and ducks were playing in the water.

Just as Kamibayashi Miko was lost in thought, Minamoto Kiyomoto’s singing came from the bow of the boat:
“With cassia oars and orchid paddles, we strike the clear water and trace the flowing light. My heart is vast, and I look at the beauty in the sky.”

The singing was high and distant. After singing, Minamoto Kiyomoto smiled and looked at her.

“Miss Kamibayashi, whether you are going to risk your life to do the foolish thing of saving the world, or to cultivate in seclusion, to befriend fish and shrimp and befriend elk, I will always be with you.”

Under the moonlight, his smile was faint, and his voice seemed to come from the sky.

I’m not just going to save the world—Kamibayashi Miko looked at Minamoto Kiyomoto and said silently in her heart.

“Let’s go back,” she put away the smile that had been on her face and woke up from the dreamlike scene, and said.

“The good show is about to begin, Miss Kamibayashi!” Minamoto Kiyomoto threw away the bamboo pole, his spirits as high as a young man’s. He moved aside, revealing the night sky behind him.

Before them was the end of the sea of clouds. They seemed to have come to a cliff, or the end of the sky.

Under the night sky, the ground was a sea of red, crowded with people.

The light of the houses, the light of the tall buildings, the light of the streetlights, the light of the cars… it was a flood of light that drowned everything, and even the night was dissolved.

It was as if that was the starry sky, with countless stars scattered all over the world.

Kamibayashi Miko sincerely felt the beauty and subconsciously said, “It’s beautiful.”

“The Uji River Fireworks Festival,” Minamoto Kiyomoto’s voice came. He had come to the center of the boat at some point and was sitting opposite her. “Besides the Summer Festival, it is the largest fireworks festival in the entire Kyoto Prefecture, with no less than 200,000 participants.”

The moonlight shone on the sea of clouds, and the small boat was moored by the cliff of the clouds, as if it were docked in a quiet and peaceful small bay.

Kamibayashi Miko looked at the human world, and Minamoto Kiyomoto looked at her.

At a certain moment, he reached out his hand, and his fingers gently caressed Kamibayashi Miko’s cheek. His lips slowly moved closer.

Kamibayashi Miko trembled all over and was about to push him away.

At this moment, her face was illuminated.

Looking out of the corner of her eye, a huge firework filled the entire night sky. Accompanied by the delayed explosion, the next one had already bloomed.

Minamoto Kiyomoto held her strawberry-pink tongue between his lips and teeth.

The dazzling light, the smell of fireworks, Kamibayashi Miko’s eyes were hazy, and her whole body was as if she had been electrocuted, so soft that she could not move.

The two of them listened to the sound of the fireworks and were immersed in the dreamlike sea of clouds reflected by the fireworks.

(End of Chapter)