Four to six (1)

by Mizukami Kyouka · 2026-03-31

Fuming, I hurried along the base of the mountain towards the rice paddies. After about half a cho, the path suddenly rose, and from one point on the ascent, I could see the Chokushi Bridge, built of earth in an arch shape. The moment I stepped onto it, looking up, the former medicine peddler briskly approached and overtook me.

Without exchanging any words, he ignored me and went ahead, and at the end of the small, hill-like path, he descended out of sight, still holding his umbrella open.

After that, I ascended on tiptoe and then placed my body on the path, which resembled the body of a drum. The medicine peddler had already descended and stopped, appearing to look around. He seemed to be contemplating something, but upon closer inspection, the path ahead split into two. One was a steep ascent, with grass growing thickly on both sides. At the corner of the roadside stood a single cypress tree, four, no, perhaps five arm-spans in girth, and behind it were several large rocks.

I had imagined that the wide, gentle path I had been walking on was the correct main road, and that if I continued for about two more ri, I would reach the mountain, and from there, it would become a pass.

However, the cypress tree before me jutted out like a rainbow into the empty space of the unseen rice paddies, crossing an otherwise empty path. The soil at its base had collapsed, exposing countless roots like large eels. A stream of water flowed from the roots, spreading across the middle of the path. It was strange that the rice paddies didn't become a lake because of this, and the flow was majestic. Ahead, a cluster of bushes was visible, and beyond that boundary, for about two cho, it was like a river. Stones were scattered haphazardly, and it seemed possible to cross with large strides as if on stepping stones, but they must have been arranged by human hands.

It wasn't a major enough obstacle to warrant taking off one's clothes to cross, but it was a bit too difficult for the main road, and unsuitable for horses to travel.

Thinking that the medicine peddler must have also been lost, I resolutely began to climb the right slope. After passing the cypress, I leaned forward and looked down.

"Hey, hey, the road to Matsumoto is this way," I said carelessly, taking five or six steps forward.

He leaned half his body over the rock's edge and said mockingly, "If you stand there dazed, the tree spirits will snatch you away, they show no mercy even in broad daylight," then he disappeared behind the rock and hid in the tall grass.

After a while, the tip of an umbrella appeared, brushed against a tree branch, and vanished into the thicket.

“Heave-ho!” a cheerful voice exclaimed, and a farmer, carrying a straw mat on his back and nothing else, came hopping over the stones in the stream.

It goes without saying that he hadn't met anyone other than the medicine peddler from the teahouse to this point. When he was called out to at their parting, he thought the other person was a traveling merchant, but a strange feeling of doubt lingered, despite his disbelief. He had been about to open the diagram he'd mentioned earlier, which he had carefully examined when he stopped by that morning.

“Excuse me, I have a question,”

“What is this, sir?” people from the mountain country would ask politely, especially when they saw a monk.

“No, I don't really need to ask, but I suppose this is the straightforward path to take, isn't it?”

“Are you going to Matsumoto? Ah, that’s the main road. During the last rainy season, the water rose and created an enormous river.”

“Will this water continue like this for a long way?”

“Oh, sir, you've just seen it, there's no problem. The water only goes as far as that thicket over there. After that, it's the same path all the way to the mountain, where carts can pass. The thicket is the site of the former large mansion's doctor, and this area used to be a village. During the great flood thirteen years ago, it all became fields, and many people died. Please, Reverend, chant a prayer as you walk.” He explained in detail even things that weren't asked. This clarified the situation well and made it certain, but there was indeed someone who had lost their way.

“Where does this path go?” he asked, pointing to the slope on the left where the medicine peddler had gone.

"Yes, this is an old road where people walked until about fifty years ago. It still leads to Shinshu. The destination is the same, about seven ri closer, but it's not a road that can be traveled these days. Last year, a priest and a parent-child pilgrim mistakenly entered it, and it became a terrible situation. They said it was like seeing a beggar, and that a human life is irreplaceable, so three police officers and twelve villagers formed a group and pushed their way up to help, and barely managed to bring them back. You, too, priest, must not rush into taking a shortcut. It's better than getting tired and sleeping outdoors before going this way. Yes, please be careful."

Here, I parted ways with the farmer and was about to walk on the river stones, but suddenly I became concerned about the peddler's situation. It couldn't be as bad as I heard, but if it were true, it would be leaving him to die. Either way, I am a monk, and I need to reach an inn and sleep under a roof before nightfall. I should catch up and bring him back. There's no reason to suspect him of walking the old road by mistake. This isn't the season for wolves, nor is there any sign of evil spirits. "So be it," I thought, watching him go, and soon the kind farmer's figure was out of sight too.

"Alright."

I boldly took the uphill path. It wasn't out of chivalry, nor was it a rush of blood to the head. As I just said, I always seemed to understand things, but in reality, I was quite a coward, so much so that I was afraid to even drink river water, valuing my life that much. If you ask why again, if it were just a man I had just greeted, I would have certainly abandoned him, but because I thought he was an unpleasant person, it felt like it was my duty to abandon him as he was, and my conscience wouldn't let me.

Sōchō was still lying face down on the floor, with his hands clasped in prayer.

"Then, I believe that merely chanting the Nembutsu with one's mouth is not enough."