Chapter 414: 156._4
"Isn’t it just an itchy hand," Fujiwara Reya said with a smile to them, "When I was little, my parents didn’t allow servants to serve me, so I had to set the tableware myself."
Just from this one sentence, Kasahara Fumi began to imagine what he was like as a child.
He must have been a clever and lively child with a natural gift for imagination, possessing tender and easily harmed youthful skin, dreamlike beauty... Born to nobility, he received a very strict upbringing from an early age, eventually growing into who he is now.
"Why didn’t your mother teach you to be a bit more devoted?" Kawashima Miki glanced at him first, then sat down smilingly to his left, clearly already in character.
Kasahara Fumi hesitated a bit, unsure of where to sit.
"Come over here," Fujiwara Reya said, pointing to the set tableware on his right, "The tableware is already laid out, you can’t just run off elsewhere."
Kasahara Fumi then gave a faint smile and said, "Thank you." But then quickly tucked that smile away into the waistband made entirely of black crepe, as if sparing that little flicker of a smile.
She stepped closer, her goddess-like beauty illuminated by the skylight’s sunlight.
Fujiwara Reya’s gaze roamed over her.
The entire Mountain God’s Sleeping Palace had no males besides the Mountain God, so the women’s outfits were relatively cool and figure-hugging. The collars of both her and Kawashima Miki’s kimonos were cut very low, with the chest fabric tight and the exposed parts shimmering with a faint light, like undulating mountains lit by moonlight. The other half of their graceful curves were hidden under the fabric, stirring much imagination.
Why am I wearing such clothes... Kasahara Fumi had never felt so shy before, and after sitting down, she dropped her gaze, obviously unsure of what to do next.
Among those present, the one who knew her better was Natsuki Kuri.
Clumsily restraining her emotions, this female police officer now faced Fujiwara Reya, not knowing how to touch the delicate emotional world she was not accustomed to with a kind and gentle heart.
Kasahara Fumi noticed her gaze and looked over.
In the bright sunlight, Natsuki Kuri gave a graceful smile, then immediately coyly covered her lips with her delicate hand. Her slender willowy frame was like the clear sound of string music.
Kasahara Fumi felt mocked.
She was indeed correct, Natsuki Kuri was laughing at her, plotting in her mind how to drag her down too.
Just then, a maid came in to report that lunch was ready. Soon more maids streamed in one by one, placing down beautiful plates adorned with the family crest, serving not only extraordinary delicacies but also many common dishes.
As a housekeeper, Aunt Qing did not sit down. After the dishes were served, she exchanged a glance with Fujiwara Reya and then turned to leave.
With one elder gone, the atmosphere instantly relaxed a lot.
"Eat by yourselves, don’t expect me to feed you." Fujiwara Reya picked up the matsutake mushrooms with braised pork, poured the broth over his rice, then scooped some of the dish down. Then he mixed the matsutake, pork, rice, and broth and shoveled them all into his mouth.
"Mmm!"
"Delicious!"
Natsuki Kuri glared at him with a stern face: "No table manners!"
"Auntie, I’m thirsty," Fujiwara Reya whined to her, as he did when he was young.
"So grown-up, don’t have such a lazy attitude." As Natsuki Kuri picked up the water jar to pour him juice, she scolded him, "You’re about to get married, you know. Could you be a bit more mature?"
"Oh right, getting married." Fujiwara Reya finally remembered something, turning to hold Kawashima Miki’s little hand, "Did Aunt Qing say anything to you guys?"
"No!" Kasahara Fumi quickly answered coldly.
"Yes, she did." Kawashima Miki said while taking a bite of tea-soaked rice with a spoon, chewing as she talked, "At the Mount God Festival, by the way, have the wedding, traditionally..."
On top of the pure white rice, the garnishes were like satellites circling. With plum pickles, red beans, kelp, salted salmon, etc., the texture was soft and smooth.
"Mmm—" Kawashima Miki’s hand made a sound of happiness.
Not sure if it was the delicious food or the joy of getting married.
Kasahara Fumi used her chopsticks to pick up a half-grilled tuna, took a small bite.
"Both of you together," Fujiwara Reya leisurely ate his bowl of rice, admiring their graceful table manners as they ate.
"I feel deceived..." Kasahara Fumi said with her head lowered, "I came to attend the Mountain God Festival, how did it turn into attending my own wedding..."
Natsuki Kuri’s eyes sparkled as the corners of her mouth, sticky with oil, curved slightly upward.
"Come on, let me pour some more for you." As she poured juice for Fujiwara Reya, she whispered in his ear, "This is thanks to Auntie, how will you thank her?"
"Come to my room tonight!" Fujiwara Reya said, holding his cup.
The hand holding the water jar poured the juice into the cup, and the hand holding the cup exuded a faint harmony. There seemed to be an invisible bond connecting the hands, showing a game-like rhythm. Auntie is definitely a woman who disrupts order, just like her passionate and cunning manner shows with malice, so much like Mrs. Kasahara!
Thinking of Mrs. Kasahara far away in Tokyo, Fujiwara Reya couldn’t help but feel grateful in his heart.
If that woman were here, this wedding would surely be turned upside down, and he himself might be played dizzy.
※※※※※
In a room far from the dining area, Kasahara Fumi’s handbag suddenly moved.
A wisp of green smoke floated out, quickly transforming into a human shape.
"Ah—"
"I’m exhausted—"
Mrs. Kasahara stretched lazily, her gaze wandering around.
This room was prepared temporarily for her eldest daughter, and it was simple and elegant, with hanging pots of chrysanthemums by the window. There were checkered cotton quilts drying on the wooden railing. The quilts soaked up the sunlight, becoming fluffy and emitting a pleasant fragrance.
The clothes hanging on the rack piqued this lady’s interest.
It was a pure white woman’s kimono set, with the coat, underskirt, sash, fabric socks and even the accessories all in white. This style of kimono has a beautiful name "White Pure", a bridal gown for traditional Japanese weddings.
Gazing at the pure and flawless white wedding dress, Mrs. Kasahara instinctively touched her own tender face. Feeling her still vibrant skin, she seemed to have thought of some idea, mischievously curling her lips.