Yoriichi glanced at the cup. "I do not consume alcohol. It dulls the senses and slows the body's reaction time."
"Ah, please, Boss! It's not heavy wine," Jia Lie Ao insisted with a grin. "It's Spirit-Peach wine. Very light, mostly sweet fruit juice with just a hint of fermentation. It actually soothes the meridians after a long day of training. Just one cup, for the road!"
Seeing their hopeful expressions, Yoriichi relented. He accepted the small porcelain cup.
"To our Master Yoriichi!" Jia Lie Ao cheered softly, raising his own cup. "May he terrorize the Jia Nan Academy just as he terrorized us!"
"To our Boss!" the others whispered enthusiastically, clinking their cups together.
Yoriichi lightly tapped his cup against theirs and took a small sip. The liquid was indeed sweet and incredibly refreshing, leaving a warm, soothing trail down his throat.
As he sat there under the brilliant silver moon, listening to the gentle rustling of the hot spring water and the rhythmic chirping of the night insects, a profound sense of nostalgia washed over his soul. The delicious food, the light drinks, the camaraderie of young warriors gathered in the dark—it felt incredibly familiar.
It reminded him of the rare, quiet nights between bloody campaigns in his previous life. The fleeting moments when the Hashiras of the Demon Slayer Corps would gather under the wisteria trees, forgetting the horrors of the war to simply share a meal, laugh, and be human.
'Bonds forged in sweat and hardship transcend the petty squabbles of bloodlines,' Yoriichi mused internally, feeling a deep sense of peace.
As the feast progressed, the conversation naturally shifted toward martial arts.
"Boss, when I channel my Dou Qi for the Gale Kick, I still feel a slight blockage in my left calf," the Ao Ba youth asked respectfully, demonstrating a seated motion.
Yoriichi set his cup down, his crimson eyes instantly shifting into analytical mode. "You are breathing from your chest, not your diaphragm. When you leap, your center of gravity rises too quickly, starving the lower meridians of oxygen. Drop your hips a fraction of an inch before you strike, and exhale sharply on the impact. Try it."
For the next hour, the midnight banquet turned into a final, quiet seminar. Yoriichi answered their questions patiently, correcting their fundamental flaws and giving them critical instructions on how to survive the brutal meritocracy of the academy and the mercenary world.
Soon, the moon began its descent. The chill of the approaching midnight settled over the back mountains.
Recognizing the late hour, the youths efficiently packed away the lacquered boxes and the empty jugs, leaving no trace of their presence on the grass. The lively atmosphere shifted back to a solemn, respectful quiet.
The seven youths stepped forward, standing in a straight line before Yoriichi.
"Boss," the Ao Ba one said, his eyes shining with determination. "We are joyous that you will be attending the academy. We wish you immense power."
Yoriichi stood up, his tall silhouette imposing in the moonlight. He stepped forward and placed his hand on the Ao Ba youth's shoulder, giving it an approving squeeze. He did the same for the Jia Lie youths and others, before finally stopping in front of Jia Lie Ao.
Yoriichi patted the young master's shoulder, leaving his hand resting there. The gesture was heavy with expectation.
"You all have a long, brutal road ahead of you," Yoriichi said, his voice dropping to a low, serious rumble. "I will not be here to temper the arrogance of this city. I will be far away."
Jia Lie Ao swallowed hard, sensing the immense gravity of the moment.
"I just hope the clans of Wu Tan City do not create senseless problems with each other while the strongest generation is gone," Yoriichi said slowly, his crimson eyes piercing through the young man. "And that peace will only be possible if men in good positions—like you, the future Patriarch of the Jia Lie Clan—steer the ship away from the rocks."
Yoriichi let out a soft sigh, removing his hand from the boy's shoulder.
"I expect you to look out for the Xiao Clan when I am not here," Yoriichi commanded, not as a threat, but as an absolute expectation between warriors. "And, if it is possible... I want you to send me a secret letter every month or two at the academy. Detail the political situation of Wu Tan City, the movements of the mercenaries, and the state of the Xiao Clan."
Jia Lie Ao's eyes widened drastically. He instantly understood what Yoriichi was doing. His "Boss" wasn't just asking for a favor; he was officially recruiting the heirs of the rival clans to be his personal informant and shadow allies. It was a stroke of geopolitical genius.
A fierce, incredibly proud light ignited in Jia Lie Ao's chest. To be trusted with such a massive responsibility by the youth he respected above all others was the highest honor.
Jia Lie Ao dropped to one knee, cupping his fists tightly.
"I promise you, Senior Yoriichi," Jia Lie Ao vowed, his voice trembling with raw conviction. "As long as I draw breath, the Jia Lie Clan will not move against the Xiao Clan in the shadows. And you will have a monthly report on your desk without fail. You have my absolute word."
The other youths immediately followed suit, dropping to one knee in a silent vow of loyalty to the shadow pact.
Satisfied that his clan's rear was securely guarded, Yoriichi offered a final, deep nod.
"Grow strong," Yoriichi told them.
With those final words, he turned his back on the rival youths. He began walking up the stone path toward his courtyard, his dark robes blending seamlessly into the night. The seven youths remained kneeling until his powerful aura completely vanished from their senses, before silently melting back into the forests to return to their own homes.
Tomorrow morning, the sun would rise on a new era. Yoriichi would leave the small, dusty borders of Wu Tan City behind, stepping onto the grand, brutal stage of the Dou Qi Continent, ready to let the world witness the true heat of the Sun.