This Japanese Monogatari Isn't Lame
Chapter 116 - 115. Dongzi, forgive me

Chapter 116: Chapter 115. Dongzi, forgive me

The moment Beichuan Si stepped into the courtyard of the residence, the warmth stripped away from his body, and an eerie chill penetrated his bones, making him instinctively shiver.

The courtyard was paved with gravel and featured a small pond; from Beichuan Si’s perspective, he could also see the cherry blossom trees planted below.

`Is it already spring? Will I be able to see cherry blossoms one more time?`

Beichuan Si couldn’t help but think.

But without entering the Japanese-style residence, all was moot.

Clutching his backpack tightly and with a hint of cold light flickering in his hand, he steadily ascended the steps to the front door of the residence.

There, on the somewhat decayed wooden door, was a symbol.

A chrysanthemum pattern, painted with white paint that had mostly flaked off.

Seeing this pattern, Beichuan Si instinctively took out the key Magong Dongzi had given him.

The pattern etched onto the flat key handle was the same as the one on this door.

"Could this pattern be the family crest?"

The so-called family crest is a symbol of a family.

"The Japanese believe that chrysanthemums can ward off evil and hold a dignified appeal, ...so the question arises, is this the Magong Family’s crest or the Shenzhu Family’s crest?"

Beichuan Si felt it was more likely the Magong Family’s crest, given the white chrysanthemum pattern on the key handle Magong Dongzi had given him.

However, without conducting a proper investigation, he could not jump to conclusions.

Beichuan Si took a deep breath, reached out, and firmly pushed open the door.

Creak—

The unpleasant sound of rotting wood stretched out.

A cloud of dust rose up, hitting him in the face.

Beichuan Si waved his hand in front of him, then switched on his flashlight to look inside.

The entranceway to the residence was spacious, seemingly wide enough to fit the outstretched arms of four adults.

Beichuan Si turned on his flashlight, stepping onto the wooden planks.

Creak—

The wooden floor let out an unpleasant groaning sound, and upon closer inspection, one could see that the wooden floor was quite old and had turned black with age.

Ignoring the unpleasant noise, Beichuan Si continued to walk inside.

Beyond the entrance was a set of double-panel wood doors, which Beichuan Si opened without hesitation, revealing a spacious Japanese-style hearth.

Enclosed by wooden floors and in the center, a pot hung above a pit surrounded by stones from the Four Directions.

This type of hearth, known in Japanese architecture as ’Irori,’ is akin to the smokehouses used for curing meat in China.

Beichuan Si stepped over, his flashlight’s beam scanning around in tandem with his gaze.

There were doors on both his right and left, and directly in front of him was a staircase leading to the second floor, without handrails.

Since there was investigating to do, naturally everything had to be thoroughly checked.

Beichuan Si took a couple of steps around the hearth.

In one corner of the hearth, he found a blackwood comb with disgusting, blackish hair tangled in it, as if it had just been used that day.

Under the oppressive gaze of lingering death, Beichuan Si clearly saw threads of malice entwined within.

Beichuan Si’s heart stirred, and he emotionlessly pulled off the hair and stored the comb in his waist pouch that he carried with him.

Having nearly completed his exploration of the hearth, Beichuan Si opened the door on the right.

The room should have been a kitchen, but it was pitch black and nothing could be seen.

Before Beichuan Si could raise his flashlight, a piercing wind headed straight for his head!

He instinctively ducked—

Clang.

With a crisp sound, Beichuan Si lifted his flashlight and turned around, just in time to see a rusty kitchen knife with half its blade stuck in the dark door panel.

What was this?

Beichuan Si’s mind raced, a flash of cold light in his hand, death swirling in his eyes as he stepped on the ground and charged forward.

Within the gaze heavy with the aura of death, Beichuan Si saw the shadow of a Spiritual Body that was wrapped in a grudge.

Beichuan Si remained silent, his arm carrying Jian Ding as he swept across the opponent’s neck.

Pfft—

It wasn’t until the moment the vengeful spirit’s head tumbled through the air that Beichuan Si clearly saw the face of the spirit.

It was a short, plump woman wrapped in an apron, still clutching another sinister butcher knife smeared with blood. However, the headless figure seemed somewhat at a loss, only fully dissolving into malice after lingering for a while.

Where the Nameless Cook had vanished, something was seeping out resentment.

It was a notebook made of two pages stuck together.

Beichuan Si picked up the notebook and stood there for about five minutes.

But he never heard the system’s notification tone for strengthening himself or for gaining skill points.

"What’s going on?"

Was there an error with the system?

Could it be that the system had erred?

The vengeful spirit of the cook just now should have been dealt with swiftly and decisively.

Beichuan Si pondered for a moment, then shook his head, deciding not to dwell on such matters.

After all, the strength of that vengeful spirit wasn’t very high; even if it could bring him benefits, it wouldn’t have been substantial.

His finger moved, flipping through the notes in his hand.

’Today’s grocery list: natto, brown sugar, wood ear mushrooms, black beans, chicken...’

The first page of the notebook listed ingredients and seasonings to be purchased.

After scanning it, Beichuan Si raised an eyebrow.

"These ingredients... they are all needed for blood replenishment..."

This was basic knowledge, something one should know without any medical information.

Beichuan Si turned to the next page.

The yellowed notebook stated thus:

"Ah, today Lord Sonokata took Miss Yongshi out again, it seems there was a very important meeting to discuss at the Shenzhu Family, wasn’t it? Miss Yongshi has always been kind to me; at least in terms of meals, I must not let Miss Yongshi suffer..."

The handwriting became increasingly illegible towards the end.

"Miss Yongshi? The Shenzhu Family? So does this mean... this place is indeed the Magong Family estate?"

Combining this with the White Chrysanthemum family crest, Beichuan Si could vaguely guess some of the situation.

The Magong Family and the Shenzhu Family did not share this three-storey Japanese-style building.

This was solely the territory of the Magong Family.

He carefully placed the two pages of notes into his own notebook and stood up with a flashlight in hand.

Having finished exploring the kitchen area, it was time to check out the door on the left.

Beichuan Si crossed the hearth to get to the door on the left.

However, for some reason, the door seemed fused to the floor and walls, utterly immovable.

With a flick of his wrist, Jian Ding in hand, he slashed horizontally with the aura of death, and with a kick, he forced the wooden door, which had been cut in half but still stubbornly bound by malice, open.

Whoosh—

Without a word, Beichuan Si entered.

A dark corridor came into view, with paper streamers linked on either side of the ceiling above, as pale paper charms scattered down like the swaying hands of ghosts.

To the right of the corridor was a Japanese sliding door, which Beichuan Si opened with a swift pull—

This, even more than the hearth space, resembled a secluded parlor for honored guests.

A small square table covered in dust, with a moldy stench that made one frown.

After making a round in the room and discovering nothing, Beichuan Si was about to leave.

But just as he stepped out of the parlor, a voice sounded from behind him.

"Dongzi... forgive me..."