“It seems you’ve had more than your fair share to drink today, Master,” Ritsu chided the elder, observing how the sake bowl emptied once again. “I think that’s enough.”
It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed such a scene. Master Otsuka was a sake enthusiast, finding comfort in its aroma and flavor. He always watched him with patience and respect, aware of the harsh and lonely life the old man had led on the fringes of the Outer Wall.
“I am drunk, no doubt,” said the master, with a rough, staccato laugh. “But it’s a special day, a day to celebrate.”
The master’s features, usually composed, were now distorted by the excesses of alcohol. His face was bathed in a crimson hue, from his cheeks to the receding line of his hair. His glassy eyes twinkled, and his voice, usually resonant, became slurred in drunkenness. Ritsu, for his part, had barely tasted the liquor; he had partaken more as a sign of respect than out of appetite.
“How about another round?” the master insisted, refilling his bowl and offering it with a kindly gesture. “Fate has rarely gifted us with moments of joy in the Outer Wall... and it’s likely it will never do so again, even if life blesses us with longevity. Reflect on this. Years of hardship and effort have brought us to this moment. The longing we’ve cherished for so long now materializes before us.”
Ritsu took the bowl gently and brought it to his lips, without drinking. He knew what the master meant: He had spent years teaching him, hoping that one day he would gain access to that sacred place.
And now, at last, he had succeeded.
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“Master... I will miss you,” he whispered, the sadness in his eyes reflected in the glow of the paper lanterns.
The masters who guided their disciples toward the approval of the imperial examination were revered, their names etched in history and justly rewarded. A prize awaited Master Otsuka, a generous tribute from the imperial court that would arrive with the first light of dawn. However, after that, he would have to leave the Forbidden City.
And then, he would be alone.
The master smiled tenderly at him and stroked his head.
“And I you, young one,” he said with a melancholic voice. “You have been my best student, my best friend, my best son. But do not grieve, for your master is not yet going to the other life. I’m just going to retire to a quiet place, where I can enjoy the court’s bonus and a well-deserved rest. But I will always be with you, in your heart and in your mind. Never forget that.”
Then, he changed the tone of his voice and looked at him seriously, as if to warn him of something.
“But don’t be complacent, boy,” he continued gravely. “It will be difficult. Very difficult. Not everyone in the Forbidden City will welcome you with open arms like that monk did. Many of the aspiring officials have grown up surrounded by luxury and privilege, and they will see you as an intruder, as an upstart, as a barbarian. The guards at the gate and that secretary will not be the only ones to treat you like trash. There will be others who will try to make your life miserable, who will try to humiliate you, to sabotage your learning, to expel you from the city.”
He felt the echo of the warning reverberate within him, like the distant rumble of thunder announcing an unforgiving storm. The Forbidden City would not be a welcoming haven, but a labyrinth of intrigue and challenges, where adversity would loom over him like an insatiable shadow.
The master observed him with a mix of pride and concern, then imparted one last piece of advice.
“Remember, Ritsu, in the Forbidden City, steel is not only forged in the smithies but also in the soul. Do not let them bend you. If you keep your purpose firm as a rock in the midst of the torrent, you can face any storm that stands in your way.”