Chapter 353: Shirou and the Swordmaster Reunited
Shirou stood upon the mountain peak, gazing at his surroundings. It was mountains as far as the eye could see; to descend, he would have to pass through that dense, sprawling forest.
There were no paths beneath his feet. Almost everywhere was overgrown with thick wild grass, the shortest of which reached Shirou's knees. It was truly a land of "poor mountains and evil waters"—no traces of human passage, not even a sighting of an animal or the sound of a bird's cry.
The sun in the sky was about to set. Once night fell within the forest, if it happened to be a cloudy night where dark clouds obscured the stars, it would truly be impossible to discern any direction.
However, since he had no specific destination, the path down the mountain was actually easier to choose. At a time like this, one only needed to find a water source. By following the flow of water downward, even if the path was circuitous, one would eventually find an exit.
Among the trees, Shirou spotted many edible wild goods, several of which were quite delicious varieties. Rummaging beneath the pine trees, one could find that precious fungus of later generations attached to the roots: the matsutake, with its brown cap and snow-white stalk.
There was wood ear growing on damp, dark branches; beige lion's mane mushrooms hanging from tree stumps; and shiitake mushrooms emitting a rich aroma, growing on fallen, withered trunks. On the grassy patches grew round, greyish-white puffball mushrooms. There were also large, long-stemmed black porcini.
These various wild fungi were rich in vitamins, amino acids, and minerals; among them, the lion's mane mushroom was even known as the "meat among vegetables."
The quality of these specimens was so high that his "chef's soul" began to catch fire. It was to the point where he wanted to take them home immediately, wash them clean, and cook a proper meal.
He thought about it carefully; he currently had nothing on him—no money and no food. Having these items would make things much better. Even if he couldn't sell them for much, he could perhaps trade them with a passing household for some staple grains.
Thus, he projected a bamboo basket, slung it over his back, and gathered as he walked along his descent. He didn't go out of his way to search; as long as he saw something tasty, he would pick the largest specimens of the best quality.
After all, this was ancient times, not a primitive society from a hundred thousand years ago. People did not live solely by foraging, and their ability to identify plants had naturally degenerated. Even ancient people, because they had moved away from the deep mountains and rivers to establish cities and villages and lived by farming, rarely had time to go up the mountains to forage.
Aside from a few mountain dwellers, hunters, and professional herb gatherers living in the deep mountains, few knew the benefits of these mountain delicacies. Without the spirit of "Shennong tasting the hundred herbs," and with the inheritance of knowledge regarding mountain plants severed, they gradually forgot everything within the mountains.
It was much like the urban development of later generations; the villagers living in the mountains abandoned their old ancestral homes, where transportation, water, and electricity were inconvenient and the signal was poor.
Choosing instead to go down to the city to buy a hundred-square-meter apartment and live in high-rises, their next generation became city folk, no longer understanding anything about farm work.
Thus, "ghost villages" came to be; left unmanaged, dozens of houses became completely covered in creepers and moss, their walls overtaken by various green plants, merging entirely back into nature.
The first person to eat a crab truly needed courage. For instance, in China, spicy crawfish was a popular food found on every street in later generations, yet twenty years prior, when they could be picked up anywhere, few people ate them.
He didn't know if it was because this place was simply too remote or if truly no one here recognized the value of the goods.
In any case, Shirou spent the journey picking mushrooms with great enjoyment. By the time he followed the sound of flowing water to the foot of the mountain, he had actually filled an entire bamboo basket. Inside was a heap of wild mushrooms, mountain vegetables, matsutake, as well as ginseng and wild yam.
As he reached the crossroads at the foot of the mountain, he encountered an elegant swordsman with long blue hair, carrying an exceptionally long odachi over his shoulder. When Shirou saw the other person clearly, his eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh my, oh my, what a coincidence. Is this not Lord Shirou? That battle helping the villagers against the mountain bandits was truly hard work for you. Have you come to the mountains for a picnic?" The blue-haired swordsman said with a light smile.
"Sasaki Kojiro! Weren't you already..." Shirou cried out in pleasant surprise. The man before him possessed a physical body and showed no magical energy reaction; he was undeniably human.
"Yes, that time was truly dangerous. A crazed manslayer executioner swordsman and a female ninja who turned into a giant serpent... even I once thought I would die in battle. I didn't expect that at the final moment, I would appear inside this world."
"In any case, you're alright! That's truly wonderful!" Shirou stepped forward and gave Kojiro's chest a friendly thump, laughing.
They were comrades-in-arms who had fought side-by-side. In a situation devoid of magecraft and mystery, they had risked their lives to fight brutal bandits, entrusting their backs to one another. It was a friendship forged through life and death. Seeing that Kojiro was safe, Shirou was naturally happy for him.
Grumble...
At that moment, Kojiro's stomach let out a sound.
"Hahaha." Shirou burst out laughing, and his own stomach issued an alarm as well.
Shirou patted his belly, took off the bamboo basket, and suggested to his comrade: "There's a small stream ahead. Let's settle our meal there."
Kojiro wasn't one to stand on ceremony and nodded in agreement with delight. "Ho ho, that would be for the best. Ever since that parting, I have quite missed Lord Shirou's cooking."
Two hours passed after that. Under the veil of night, the two sat at a campsite they had cleared by the stream.
A burning campfire crackled in the middle, occasionally popping. Various wild mushrooms were skewered on sharpened wooden sticks; although there was no meat, they were equally rich in nutrients. Some had a smooth texture, some a charming aroma, and others were full of chewiness—it was an equally satisfying meal.
On the other side, over a small fire, a wooden tripod had been built. Hanging from it was a small bucket-shaped pot. The wild mushroom and vegetable medley soup inside was currently bubbling, with steam rising and breaking, filling the air with a rich fragrance.
"Delicious, delicious. As expected of Lord Shirou. To have a picnic by a stream at the foot of a mountain is a refined pleasure in its own right," Kojiro said admiringly, holding a skewer.
"At a time like this, if only there were a flask of refined sake to slowly savor while facing such a clear, full moon, it would be perfect," Kojiro said with no small amount of regret, looking up at the full moon rising in the sky.
"Don't speak of such luxuries in a place like this," Shirou teased.
"True enough," Kojiro smiled and raised a bowl of wild mushroom soup, treating the soup as wine. After taking a few more sips, he looked at Shirou curiously and asked: "Lord Shirou, have you come here to uphold justice for the common folk somewhere again?"
"No, this time I've accepted a commission from a very troublesome V.I.P. to solve a problem for her. She didn't even state the details clearly, just told me to help someone. Right now, I'm still completely in the dark," Shirou said helplessly.
Being placed here by Alaya left him feeling quite frustrated. Fortunately, however, he had encountered his former comrade here, which could be considered a blessing in disguise. While admiring the moonlight, feeling the cool breeze, and eating mountain delicacies, the
two treated the soup as wine and talked of everything under the sun—it was one of life's great joys.
The two talked until very late, laughing over strange tales they had heard and marveling at the incredibility of fate that allowed people from different worlds to reunite in such a wilderness. Only when the full moon had moved to the other side of the sky did they each retire to their built shelters and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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