The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter

The class continued as usual.

At the front of the room, the teacher stood before the blackboard and wrote down two keywords:

"Frost"

"Jade"

“Everyone should have noticed that in classical poetry from Eastern University, moonlight is often depicted as ‘frost,’ like in ‘Quiet Night Thoughts’ where it says ‘I suspect it is frost on the ground.’

“So, what about the imagery of moonlight in Japanese literature?”

She turned back to the class, her gaze sweeping across the students, waiting for answers.

Silence filled the room—no one raised a hand.

The teacher didn’t rush but continued guiding:

“In ‘The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter,’ Princess Kaguya comes from the moon, her clothes described as ‘feather robes,’ and the moonlight is compared to ‘jade.’”

“Why then is the moon described as ‘frost’ in Eastern University’s poetry, but as ‘jade’ in Japanese literature?”

Her eyes scanned the room and finally rested on Rainy Moon Nanokumo.

“Rainy Moon, do you know?”

Almost distracted by thoughts of the Hachiya family after hearing the name Kaguya, Nanokumo suddenly stood up. Luckily, the two keywords on the board gave him a clear starting point, and he began to analyze:

“This reflects the differences in emotional expression between the ancient poetry of the two countries.”

It was an obvious answer, really—a transitional phrase showing his unique attitude of ‘don’t interrupt, I’m thinking.’

Fortunately, Nanokumo was a light novel writer, and with memories from his past life, he smoothly expanded on the topic:

“In Li Bai’s poetry, moonlight is cold and distant.”

“In Japanese literature, ‘jade’ symbolizes purity and mystery…”

The teacher showed a satisfied expression. “Good answer.”

She glanced around the room. “Any other viewpoints?”

The classroom remained quiet; most students weren’t interested in the topic but were somewhat surprised by Nanokumo’s deep knowledge of Eastern University’s classical poetry.

The teacher sighed, closed the textbook, and smiled:

“All right, let’s move on to the next section.”

“Phew.”

Nanokumo exhaled in relief, now free to let his mind wander.

Since understanding the truth about this world, he had been somewhat on edge.

The moment the name Kaguya was mentioned, he immediately recalled the Hachiya family.

They were the true underground rulers of Japan, controlling a massive organization that dominated all research resources related to Kotodama and dragon bloodlines within Japan’s half-blood world.

Under their control, the Kaguya system at Cassell Academy’s Japan branch was hidden on the 22nd floor of Genji Heavy Industries, akin to the Norma system at the academy’s main campus.

But Kaguya’s hold over Japan wasn’t absolute; they couldn’t detect or handle every situation promptly.

Nanokumo glanced sideways at Mutsuki Wakaba beside him, who was still focused on her textbook.

Her head bowed, slender fingers resting on the page, her eyes seemed both thoughtful and vacant.

What connection did her family have with the Hachiya?

Her seemingly inorganic temperament, the disturbingly distant atmosphere at home, and—

Those sudden, ignited golden eyes.

Nanokumo harbored vague suspicions but lacked certainty.

His gaze quietly shifted to Shoko Toyokawa sitting in the front row on the left.

The girl sat upright, focused intently on the teacher’s lecture, completely unaware of his stare.

Studying her profile carefully, he pondered various possibilities.

The Toyokawa Group was a well-known Japanese conglomerate, involved in multiple industries, with operations nationwide.

Though not among the top-tier old money families, it was a leader among the second-tier conglomerates.

Yet, its rapid rise was strangely unnatural.

For a corporate group to ascend so quickly, there had to be influential backers.

Shoko Toyokawa, as the heiress, with her ever-burning golden eyes, almost revealed everything.

Her bloodline was undoubtedly far from ordinary.

So the question remained: which branch of the Hachiya family was connected to the Toyokawa Group?

Or was the Toyokawa family itself a “white glove” supported by the Hachiya?

Nanokumo’s thoughts continued to unfurl.

In the world of “Dragon Clan,” Lumine’s “Nanny Squad,” with financial director Su Enxi, once invested in Hachiya’s enterprises.

Su Enxi was even called “the woman who sucks blood from vampires,” for boldly profiting from major half-blood conglomerates worldwide, engaging in capital games with them and walking away unscathed.

Could the Toyokawa family be linked to them as well?

Nanokumo felt the depths of these waters were terrifying.

This world was far more intricate than he had imagined.

The Hachiya family, the Toyokawa Group… all exuded a dangerous aura, but the information he possessed was still scant.

With this in mind, Nanokumo slightly bowed his head and activated his system panel.

[Current Skill Panel]

[Available Skill Points: 1]

[Cooking Lv3 (732/1000)]

[Guitar Lv4 (855/2000)]

[Novel Writing Lv5 (1551/5000)]

[Ignite Kotodama (1/4)]

The skills he had unlocked had improved somewhat through practice these past few days.

His eyes settled on the last entry:

[Ignite Kotodama (1/4)]

This progress had changed from zero to one only after that day at Mutsuki Wakaba’s house, when he unexpectedly witnessed her golden eyes ignite.

He had initially thought his flashy guitar playing had triggered an unknown rule, unlocking the ignition progress.

But reality proved otherwise.

Afterward, he returned to his rented apartment and practiced guitar daily for several days, experimenting with various styles—rock, folk, blues—even fingerpicking exercises until his fingers bloomed.

Yet the number remained unchanged.

No matter what he did, it stayed at 1/4.

This frustrated Nanokumo greatly.

At the same time, it led him to suspect that advancing this progress required contact with half-bloods.

In other words, to ignite the Kotodama, he needed to interact with half-blood individuals.

He recalled other members of the C Group—Nagasaki Sawase should now also be attending the Moonlit Forest.

Was she a half-blood too?

If so, her blood rank might be lower since she sometimes knelt uncontrollably before higher-ranked half-bloods.

These were mysteries only actual contact could reveal.

Nanokumo’s gaze involuntarily returned to Mutsuki Wakaba.

She still sat upright, eyes unwaveringly fixed on the classical poem in her textbook.

He hesitated.

He had assumed half-bloods would be aware of their heritage.

But Wakaba’s case was peculiar; she seemed utterly unaware of her own existence.

Could most half-bloods be waiting for over a decade, only to be suddenly told one day that the door had opened?

His thoughts drifted further, completely detached from the lesson.

Ding-ding-ding—

The bell rang, signaling the end of class.