Chapter 288: The Patriarch’s View on Love

“Grandpa, after Gao-kun and I finished our wedding ceremony, where exactly did you go?”

Just as Tsukiyuki Kyoichi, the patriarch of the Tsukiyuki Clan, arrived at the Karuizawa West Prince Hotel, Tsukiyuki Rio, arm in arm with her beloved Gao Sijin, walked up to him.

Tsukiyuki Kyoichi subconsciously stroked his beard, unwilling to let his granddaughter see his inner fragility. He forced a dignified expression and said:

“Went to an izakaya for a drink.”

“Grandpa, didn’t the doctor advise you a long time ago not to drink? Please take better care of your health.”

“I know that, I just had a small drink occasionally.”

“Even a small drink is not allowed, Grandpa. You must take better care of yourself, or everyone will be very worried about you. And the family needs you to remain prosperous.”

While Rio talked with her grandfather, Gao Sijin quietly observed the old man. He wore a dark blue kimono, held a folding fan in his hand, and had a samurai sword at his waist. His aged face bore a few wrinkles, exuding a solemn and imposing aura that made it hard to approach casually. If he were willing to narrow his eyes and smile, perhaps he could appear amiable, but the old man seemed to have no such intention—he preferred solitude.

That was understandable. After all, the old man was the leader of the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu, and leaders are often born lonely. If they cannot bear that solitude, they cannot command respect. Just like in ancient empires, there had to be prostrations, bows, and the rituals between ruler and subject.

Oh no.

Meeting the old man’s gaze, Gao Sijin was somewhat worried that the patriarch would oppose his relationship with Rio. But after merely glancing at him coolly, the old man said in Chinese:

“We meet again, Mr. Gao.”

Meet again? When had they met before?

Gao Sijin looked utterly baffled. Tsukiyuki Rio pressed her lips together and said in a coy voice:

“Really, Grandpa, have you forgotten? This is the first time you and Gao-kun have met!”

“The first time? Oh, yes, yes, it’s the first meeting. He looks a bit like an old friend of mine from the past. When you get old, your memory plays tricks.”

Because he had been reminiscing about his late wife, the old man had almost forgotten that Gao Sijin’s memories had been altered. They had indeed met before. He had visited the main house with Rio and attended a family banquet. After that dinner, Gao Sijin had left without saying goodbye due to a headache. The old man had never bothered to ask about what happened afterward. In the old man’s eyes, Gao Sijin was a reproductive tool for the Tsukiyuki family, a sacrifice to comfort Rio and advance the family, the Chibiki Stone that suppressed Yomotsu Hirasaka. That was how the old man viewed him. Even if Gao Sijin were the lowest scum imaginable, as long as Rio liked him, the family would fully support their marriage. But for now, he still had to put on an act.

“Mr. Gao, this old man is Tsukiyuki Kyoichi, the patriarch of the Tsukiyuki family.”

His perfectly idiomatic Chinese gave Gao Sijin an inexplicable sense of closeness. Kyoichi’s pronunciation was completely standard. Most J-Country citizens would pronounce “er” as “lu”, but the old man had no such problem, enunciating clearly. If you hadn’t known his identity beforehand, you might not even be able to tell his nationality.

“Hello, Patriarch Kyoichi.”

“You can call me Kyoichi or Grandpa. Now that you’ve married Rio, you are a member of our household from now on. I hope you will always take pride in the family.”

“I will take good care of Rio.”

Though he was marrying Rio, it somehow felt as if he were being married into their family. It was a bit strange.

Led by the maids, the group arrived at the hotel’s luxurious suite. Though the wooden cabin lacked a sense of opulence, it was filled with a warm and romantic atmosphere, with a lush, tree-lined path visible outside the window.

Gao Sijin noticed that compared to big houses, J-Country preferred small and refined things. For example, when eating out, many upscale Ginza restaurants were located inside buildings and had very cramped spaces—quite different from back home.

Seated at a long wooden table, Tsukiyuki Kyoichi silently observed the two, while Rio’s mother Tsukiyuki Senju went to brew tea, and the maids quietly withdrew.

“Grandpa, tell us about your love story,” Tsukiyuki Rio suddenly said.

“You want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

Gao Sijin noticed that Rio wasn’t very afraid of the stern old man. She had told him before that her grandpa was outwardly cold but inwardly warm. The old man cleared his throat and said:

“To be honest, your grandmother and I didn’t have much of a story.”

It was a political marriage. After all, back then, there was no such thing as free love. Kyoichi clearly remembered how his wife, who married in from an Osaka merchant family, trembled pitifully when she first arrived in Tokyo. Perhaps out of sympathy—she had no choice but to marry him—he silently vowed to take good care of her.

“When Riko and I first got married, we made three rules mainly about how to argue and what arguing methods were forbidden. Because I knew that after the initial honeymoon period, arguments were inevitable whether both parties wanted them or not.” Kyoichi’s gaze grew distant, as if he were looking back on past warmth. “At that time, your grandmother Riko and I even signed a ridiculous agreement, just like the Geneva Conventions. We promised each other that no matter how angry we got, we would never use foul language, nor would we start a war out of a desire to win. Even if we really argued, a week later, the husband had to buy a bouquet of flowers to apologize to the wife. I knew Riko wouldn’t divorce me because her family wouldn’t allow it. But I also knew that once we truly started a war, win or lose, our feelings would be shattered, and she would take her own life to express her dissatisfaction. From the very first moment I laid eyes on that little woman, I could tell: she was a small animal, so terrified it seemed she could die at any moment, a truly fragile and sensitive little woman.”

“Grandpa, do you think signing that agreement was useful?” Rio asked.

“How would I know?”

“You don’t know?” Gao Sijin was also surprised.

“Of course I don’t know! Until that little old lady died, we were still in the honeymoon phase. She passed away holding my hand. Once, I bought her a Louis Vuitton leather bag, and she immediately saw it was a fake, while I thought it was real—all because I fell for the seller’s trick about a discount.” Kyoichi recounted the story of his lover.

“She didn’t get angry?”

“Not only did she not get angry, she even praised me. She said it was an amazing skill to buy a bag so realistic it could pass for the genuine article at a fraction of the cost. She was as happy as a young girl. Your grandmother was truly a lovely little woman.”

The mask of dignity was beginning to slip. As the old man who dominated the market spoke of his deceased wife, a warm smile appeared on his face, like a high school boy experiencing his first love, making him look over twenty years younger. Although Kyoichi somewhat looked down on Gao Sijin, he sincerely hoped Rio would be happy. Partly because Rio’s precognitive abilities could serve the family, and partly because he hoped this child who had been cold since childhood could truly learn what love was.

“Actually, the older Riko got, the more I loved her. Even as her face filled with wrinkles, I never minded. I always treated her as a young girl. It wasn’t until one day she admitted she was old that I started calling her ‘little old lady.’ But in my heart, I never really thought of her as an old woman. She was always a young girl, just wearing a mask of wrinkles. Now she lies in the earth, just like the Sleeping Beauty in a fairy tale.” Kyoichi took a sip of the oolong tea Senju had brewed. Seeming to realize that he had let something slip that might hurt his dignity, he immediately coughed a few times deliberately. “But I digress. In short, love is about supporting each other. You two must remember this and treat each other as your own life.”