The rise of the resistance gave Kujou Takayuki yet another way to line his pockets.
Rebellion always meant suppression. Suppression meant troops. And troops required military funds.
How much money to allocate, how much to skim off the top—wasn't it all up to his word?
And with the Fatui secretly backing the resistance, the Shogunate, despite its overwhelming power, ended up dragging out the conflict in a bloody stalemate. The more the war dragged on, the higher the casualties rose. Then Kujou Takayuki could deduct a little from each soldier's compensation—small cuts, unnoticed at first, but piling up into a fortune.
Killing him outright was too merciful. His corpse should have been dragged out, desecrated, and nailed to the pillar of shame.
As for the Raiden Shogun, she could not wash her hands clean either.
The Vision Hunt Decree and the Sakoku Decree—whether it was the puppet or Ei herself—were decisions she had personally approved. True, the Tenryou Commission and the Kanjou Commission had concealed some truths from her, but that changed nothing.
This wasn't a matter that could be brushed aside by blaming a single man.
So many soldiers had fallen, so much wealth had been lost. Everything demanded to be dealt with seriously.
That was why Sangonomiya Kokomi herself had come to the Shogunate.
"Right and wrong have already been made clear. There's no need to argue further," Kamisato Ayato said firmly. His gaze shifted to her. "But I have a question for the Divine Priestess of Watatsumi."
Sitting upright, Kokomi replied calmly, "Please, go ahead."
Ayato's eyes grew deep as he asked, "Watatsumi Island—does it belong to itself, or to Inazuma?"
This question would determine the Shogunate's future stance toward the island.
Centuries ago, Orobashi had led his people to Watatsumi to settle. After Orobashi's death, the island was placed under Inazuma's rule during the reign of Raiden Makoto. The records never spoke clearly of her attitude toward Orobashi, but what was certain was that she showed great leniency, allowing the people to continue their worship.
At first, the Watatsumi people resisted—prideful, unwilling to bow to sheer force. But as centuries passed, hatred naturally faded. Many no longer cared about the ancient enmity.
Still, the island had always been self-governing. Though nominally under the Shogunate, true authority rested with the Sangonomiya clan.
In other words, Kokomi was essentially Watatsumi's own Yae Miko—except that the god who once stood behind her was gone.
She quickly grasped Ayato's intent.
If Watatsumi wished to continue ruling itself, so be it—but it would receive little favor from the Shogunate. If it accepted direct Shogunate governance, however, it would gain resources and recognition.
In the past, Ayato wouldn't have cared. But now, as Acting Head of the Kanjou Commission, he was responsible for the nation's economy. Trade between Inazuma and Watatsumi was part of that responsibility.
Kokomi was no power-hungry tyrant. In truth, she had never wanted to be the Divine Priestess. Her dream had always been to remain a strategist behind the scenes, not the one carrying the burden of leadership.
She herself had no objection to Watatsumi becoming more integrated with the Shogunate, and she believed most of her people felt the same. They had long since adapted—the only difference was whether orders came from Sangonomiya or from the Shogunate.
The only real cost would be her own authority.
After a moment's thought, Kokomi said softly, "Watatsumi has long been an inseparable part of Inazuma. Somewhere along the way, we already became one family, haven't we?"
She hadn't given a direct "yes" or "no," but Ayato was satisfied.
He nodded. "The Shogunate has no intention of stripping you of power, but from this year onward, the Divine Priestess should submit reports annually."
"I have no objection," Kokomi agreed at once.
Once, Raiden Makoto had already shown grace by allowing them their faith. The Watatsumi people could not afford to be ungrateful.
The rebellion had been nothing more than a desperate gamble for survival. Now that survival was assured, there was no longer any reason to resist.
Kokomi even allowed herself to imagine—after surrendering power, she might finally retreat to her books, living quietly like a shut-in. A dream life. But that would have to wait. For now, the Shogunate still needed her voice to command respect on the island.
With governance settled, they quickly moved on to the matters of compensation, resettlement, and finally trade.
Ayato frowned at the thought. Watatsumi had no proper harbor; large merchant vessels couldn't dock. For small ships like Beidou's Alcor, it was fine—but unloading cargo from massive trading ships with rowboats was absurdly inefficient.
"The Shogunate will fund the construction of a port. In return, we'll also transport grain and daily necessities for you. The locals can purchase them with their wages," Ayato declared.
Kokomi thought for a moment before nodding.
Then came military matters.
"Watatsumi may retain a modest standing force," Ayato said. "Monsters still roam the world. Dismantling all defenses would be reckless. But there is no need to send Shogunate generals to take over command. Should you disobey in the future, the Shogunate can easily crush you then."
With both sides sincere, an agreement was swiftly signed.
When all was finished, Ayato glanced at the time. "It's nearly dinner. Allow me to host you here in Tenshukaku, and I'll prepare accommodations as well."
"Much appreciated, Lord Kamisato," Kokomi replied with a bow.
He led them out—and just as they stepped into the hall, they encountered Lu Heng and Raiden Makoto entering.
"Lady Makoto. Mister Lu." Ayato bowed respectfully.
Kokomi and Gorou quickly followed suit.
"All settled?" Makoto asked with a smile.
"Smoothly, Your Highness," Ayato replied. He explained their arrangements, earning her approval.
"Well done. But do take care not to exhaust yourself," Makoto urged.
Ayato only nodded with a polite smile. Rest? He had none. Merchant fleets from Liyue would soon be docking, and preparations had to be made.
Seeing his resolve, Makoto simply said, "Good. Then escort our guests."
Ayato bowed once more and departed with Kokomi and Gorou.
Makoto watched them go, then sighed contentedly. "Having such a capable assistant truly eases the burden."
"He won't push himself to collapse," Lu Heng chuckled. "But you might consider rewarding him—with something to restore his energy."
Makoto laughed. "Wouldn't that be treating him like a beast of burden?"
"It depends how he takes it," Lu Heng replied lightly. "Come, I'm looking forward to your cooking tonight."
"I'm much more reliable than Ei, you know~" Makoto said with confidence.
At the mention of Ei's cooking, Lu Heng chuckled, recalling the infamous incident when she had lost a bet and was forced to prepare a meal. The dishes hadn't killed anyone, but the taste and appearance… unforgettable.
The memory stirred something in Makoto. She decided she wanted to cook for Lu Heng herself—not as a master chef, but as a wife should.
"You'll wash the dishes afterward," she said with a playful smile.
"I'll scrub them until they shine," Lu Heng promised.
In the kitchen, she stunned him by stunning a fish with a quick spark of lightning before preparing it with deft, if not masterful, skill. Soon, three dishes and a soup were laid out.
"Try it," she urged, offering him a piece.
The flavor was good. Not gourmet, but honest, delicious home cooking. Lu Heng praised her without reservation. Pleased, she kept piling food into his bowl, worried he'd go hungry.
After the meal, they relaxed on the sofa. Makoto hesitated, then rested her legs on his lap.
He looked at her in surprise, and she stammered softly, "Miko said you like…"
Lu Heng chuckled, taking her ankle in his hand. Her legs were slender, fair, and smooth—so very different from Ei's trained, slightly muscular build. He slipped off her socks with her permission, revealing her delicate feet, making his breath catch.
She noticed at once, her cheeks burning crimson. In a whisper, she asked, "Do you… want me to help you?"
Lu Heng stared, stunned. "Are you serious?"
She nodded.
His grin spread wide. "Then I won't refuse."
That night, two women found themselves unable to sleep.
Raiden Ei and Yae Miko sat beneath the moon at the Grand Narukami Shrine.
Ei had been about to return to Tenshukaku, until she received a message from Makoto: Don't come back tonight.
"What does that mean?" Ei fumed. "Isn't Tenshukaku my home too? Why can't I return?"
Miko listened silently, then sighed. "It should have been me first. But now your sister has gotten ahead of me."
Ei froze. The implication struck like lightning. Her hands clenched tightly. Even the puppet inside her heart began to wail.
"Why, sister? Why did you take him from me?"
The sorrow made her chest ache. The thought of Makoto belonging to another man shattered her.
Miko, too, was lost in her own regret. "If only I'd been bolder… if only I had seized the moment."
"And what difference would that make?" Ei muttered coldly.
"At least I'd have been the first to taste it," Miko said bluntly.
Ei's lips twitched in frustration. "You're both insane. Why cling to a single man? Before he appeared, neither of you cared for anyone!"
"You don't understand," Miko scoffed. "You've got the heart of a wooden doll. What do you know of love?"
"What is love?" Ei pressed, her voice sharp.
"Love?" Miko's eyes softened. "It's when someone just feels right. When, once you've met them, no one else will do. Hard to explain—but easy to feel."
The puppet inside Ei stirred, stepping forward, seizing Miko's hands as if to say: I understand. I truly do.
Watching them, Ei felt her frustration spike. "So what does love feel like?" she demanded.
Miko thought for a long moment. "Maybe… it's like finding a fellow warrior. Someone who fights beside you, someone who helps you grow stronger."
"I see." Ei sighed, finally understanding their obsession. "Then yes… that truly sounds troublesome."
"You understand now," Miko murmured with a rueful smile. "At least no one else will cut in line after your sister."
Ei turned her face away, silent, her heart heavy with sorrow.
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T/N:
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