Lin Wan’er clarified, “Ito Keiichi is the founder of Japan’s largest Ito family today. It was he who single-handedly transformed the Ito family from a modestly wealthy household in Kyoto into a colossal conglomerate across all of Japan. Masao was his half-brother, sharing the same father but different mothers.”
Sun Zhidong suddenly remembered something and exclaimed, “It seems Mr. Ye has a very good relationship with the Ito family.”
“Yes.” Lin Wan’er nodded, a touch of melancholy in her voice. “If Masao had taken that Rejuvenation Pill, perhaps he could have met Ito Yohiko one day. Ito Keiichi was Ito Yohiko’s great-grandfather.”
The plane returned to Nanjing at nightfall. Upon arriving home, Lin Wan’er immediately secluded herself in the mountaintop villa at Purple Mountain Manor, grieving in solitude.
This visit to see Kong Yin and the ensuing farewell made her realise one thing. In the past, she had always taken in children, raised them, prepared them to face the world, and then vanished from their lives. She had thought it was a case of parting ways and forgetting each other like wanderers in the jianghu. Yet she had not expected that these children’s feelings for her could endure for over a century without fading.
Kong Yin was like this, and among the other children still alive, some were undoubtedly the same.
Back then, for the sake of safety and to sever ties, Lin Wan’er had rarely initiated contact with them. But in Lin Wan’er’s heart, these people were all her children. How could she not miss them?
Thus, in the villa, beneath the tree of the Mother of Pu Tea, she resolved in silence. If one day Wu Feiyan was no longer a threat, she would definitely go to see those children who were still alive, if it was not too late.
Because among them, the youngest was probably already seventy years old.
…
Three days later, Master Kong Yin’s funeral was held in Kyoto, Japan. In a touching turn, the one presiding over the ceremony was a young Buddhist master from China, also Kong Yin’s close friend despite their age difference: Master Jing Qing.
Master Kong Yin’s body was cremated at the Kyoto funeral parlour. All of Japan anticipated that after the cremation, Master Kong Yin might leave behind relics. But to their regret, Master Kong Yin turned into a wisp of green smoke and departed, leaving only a handful of ashes.
In accordance with Master Kong Yin’s last wishes, his ashes were not kept at Kinkaku-ji Temple. The temple merely enshrined his memorial tablet, while his ashes were quietly buried in a cemetery on the outskirts of Kyoto by his chief disciple.
This cemetery had over a century of history and was one of the earliest large-scale public cemeteries in Kyoto, with tens of thousands of people buried there, their numbers long since vast.
The cemetery had run out of new plots for sale several years ago, though some individuals had purchased empty graves in advance that remained unused.
Among them was one such empty grave, bought years earlier by Master Kong Yin himself.
After Master Kong Yin’s burial, a tombstone was erected before his plot. Unlike most others, however, his stone bore only the six large characters “Tomb of Saito Masao” and, at the bottom, the year of his death.
Since no birth date was inscribed, few people knew how old the occupant of this tomb had been. Even fewer realised that this was the final resting place of Master Kong Yin.
Beside the Tomb of Saito Masao stood several scattered tombstones also bearing the surname Saito: Saito Keiko, Saito Tōyama, Saito Ei, Saito Suzu, Saito Akira, and so on.
The death years on these stones spanned a wide range, with the earliest dating back to 1926.
Those unaware might assume it was some Saito family burying their deceased relatives here. But some elderly residents of Kyoto knew that these Saitos were, for the most part, orphans adopted by the famous Miss Saito of old.
In their youth, they had all achieved great things, many branching out across Japan and even the world. Without exception, however, before their deaths, they had all requested that their families bury them here.
The Tomb of Saito Masao was merely one among these Saito graves. Apart from its newer stone, it showed nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet for these orphans who had grown up together from childhood, bound not by blood but by sibling-like ties, was it not a peculiar kind of romance to be laid to rest side by side in death?
