I held my gaze on her for a few seconds longer, watching the gears turn behind her eyes. Under my scrutiny, a faint tremor started in her shoulders. She was like a cornered animal, expecting the worst. I let out a slow breath.
"Go to the storage room," I said, my voice even. "Get some cloth and make yourself two sets of proper clothes. Then go to the kitchen, get a box of food, and eat. Take care of yourself first. We can talk after."
"…Yes," Yukinoshita whispered, her head still bowed. The man across from her, not much older than she was, clearly found her current state inappropriate. She couldn't deny it. After being inexplicably thrown into this ancient world and forced into servitude, she'd had neither the means nor the desire to pretty herself up. If anything, looking gloomy and unimportant felt safer. In a world this dangerous, being too dazzling was just asking for trouble.
I watched her slender, fragile form retreat, then lowered my head in thought.
Yukinoshita Yukino. One of the most popular characters of her time. And why not? She was the perfect mix—cool and composed on the outside, but with a hidden, gentler side. She was smart, incredibly self-disciplined, and possessed a cat-like independence. All the ingredients for a top-tier waifu. Of course, that also meant she was notoriously difficult to approach. Most guys who tried were just dreaming.
It's funny. Back when I watched the anime, I used to have the dumbest worries, like what it would be like to actually be with her. Waking up at six for a morning run, a perfectly balanced breakfast at seven, work at eight… a life ruled by a beautiful, terrifying schedule. Thinking about it now, I couldn't help but laugh at my younger self. The memory was so embarrassing my toes curled.
"Let's just put a pin in that for now," I thought, shaking my head. "Best to just observe."
For now, I had bigger problems than navigating the personality of my new, dimension-hopping maid. My primary concern was my own power. My real power.
You see, I'm what you might call a cultivator. It's a long story, but the short version is that my eccentric parents taught me their arts before they… well, before they left me in the care of a foster family when I was eight and vanished on some mysterious journey of their own. They still send living expenses every year, so I don't worry about them. They're probably the ones who should be worried about me.
When I arrived in this world, I found that most of the spiritual energy I'd spent years cultivating was locked away. To put it in gaming terms, I had a massive MP bar, but all my best skills were grayed out. And with the brutal political struggle about to kick off, I needed every skill I could get. One wrong move and I could get "dispatched" from the capital, which was a polite way of saying "exiled."
After a couple of weeks of reconnaissance, I had a pretty grim picture of this country. Its territory was a fraction of what I knew from my time. The northern island, Hokkaido, was the domain of the indigenous Ezo people. The main island of Honshu was a patchwork of colonized lands where assimilation was far from complete. And the southwest was considered an uncivilized wilderness. To put it bluntly: if you weren't in Kyoto, you were living in a primitive society.
In a normal world, I might not have minded. I might have even taken an interest in helping build things up.
But this wasn't a normal world. This was a world of gods, Buddhas, and monsters.
Could people who survived daily threats from vengeful ghosts and ravenous yokai truly be "simple and honest"? I wasn't willing to gamble my life on it. Worse, I was almost certain this world was the setting of a mobile game I used to play when I was bored—Onmyoji. It was the grand, sweeping story of the hero Abe no Seimei and his battle against the great serpent demon, Yamata no Orochi.
If at all possible, I wanted to remain a side character. The main quest was way too dangerous.
Day 14
Gengchen month, Xinchou day. A bad day. All things are unfavorable. All efforts will be in vain.("Gengchen month, Xinchou day" refers to specific days in the traditional Chinese calendar. The phrase "An inauspicious day. All endeavors will be fruitless" means that it is considered an unlucky day and any attempts to achieve something will not succeed.)
At the Bureau of Onmyo, I scribbled the day's fortune on a slip of wood, handed it to a subordinate, and stretched, ready to call it a day.
"Master Kyosuke, your salary," another Calendar Doctor scurried over, holding a cloth bag with a fawning smile. I took it with a polite nod. The banshokuryo, a daily stipend of two kg(4.4 pounds) of rice, was one of the few real perks of being an official in the capital. Local officials got nothing.
"Leaving so soon today, Kyosuke?" my colleague Baoyin asked, looking up from his scrolls in surprise. "You usually vanish for hours. Did you get your ingredients for dinner already?"
"I'm heading to Ukyo to observe the celestial phenomena," I lied smoothly. Ukyo, the western half of the capital, was poorer and falling into disrepair. "I got up early to do my divinations for the day."
"Ukyo, huh? It's gotten rough over there. Full of thieves," Baoyin warned.
"A few thieves are no match for me," I boasted lightly. "If I see them, they'll get a lesson they won't forget."
"Just be careful you don't run afoul of the Procuratorate's men," he sighed. "They've been known to cut down innocent citizens during their patrols. It's a sad state of affairs. Evil gods roaming, vengeful spirits causing trouble… it just creates more poor souls."
"Haha, they're just a bunch of low-class peasants," someone else sneered from across the room. "Why waste sympathy on them?"
I responded with a noncommittal smile and bid my colleagues farewell. Outside, the sky was a blanket of dark, oppressive clouds. It wasn't a good day, and the weather wasn't helping. I hefted the heavy bag of rice. Maybe it was time to get an ox cart. It would certainly look more noble than walking everywhere.
As I wandered through the streets, my eyes caught an inconspicuous pattern carved into the wall of an old estate in the distance: a plum blossom.
My blood ran cold, and my pace quickened unconsciously.
Every Onmyoji in the capital knew that crest. It was the symbol of Sugawara no Michizane. He'd been dead for a century, but he was also Japan's most famous vengeful spirit. An onryo of the highest order. My colleagues said he still acted up from time to time, causing disasters almost as bad as the legendary lightning strike on the Imperial Palace that had killed his rivals. In Onmyoji game terms, he was easily a top-tier SSR, on the same level as a demon king like Shuten Douji or Ibaraki Douji.
Maybe.
I finally reached my door, my heart still beating a little faster than normal. Hearing my approach, the door slid open. Yukinoshita stood there, wearing a simple but clean gray dress, her long black hair neatly tied back in a bun. She looked like a completely different person.
"Master Kyosuke," she said with a slight bow.
"Yeah," I grunted, holding out the bag of rice. She took it deftly and then stood by obediently, waiting for my next instruction. For a split second, I had a powerful sense of déjà vu, the classic scene of a virtuous wife welcoming her husband home from a long day's work.
Of course, I knew better. The girl was just making a sensible choice, doing what she had to do to survive.
I never made it to Ukyo. A hard rain began to fall not long after I got back, giving me the perfect excuse to stay in.
That same day, the political storm finally broke. The ailing Regent Fujiwara no Michitaka, following the advice of his eldest son, Korechika, sent a formal request to Emperor Ichijo: he wished for Korechika to directly succeed him as the new Regent.
The palace's reply was swift and cold: "The Regent is ill. We will review this at a later date."
It was a blatant refusal. In his mansion, a furious Korechika, seeing the imperial calendar resting on his desk, let out a roar of frustration and kicked it, sending wood and scrolls scattering across the floor.
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