THE LAND of Ga Province was awe-inspiring and brimming with life.
The river that traversed down into the plains from the high, rugged mountains had caused floods on countless occasions in the past, and each and every time, it had left the soil even richer than it had been before. Even during long, dry stretches of hot weather, its water never dried up, and all the plants—whether they be rice or mulberry—continued to thrive. Shin believed that the soil here was the most fertile in all of Sho.
Shin got out of the boat and set foot in his home region for the first time in what felt like forever. The mountaintops far off in the distance were covered in snow. Fields filled with crops covered the plains, and settlements where people lived sat at the foot of the mountains.
There was a wide, sturdy road leading from the port to the area that had been constructed back when the Saname family ruled over the area. They’d dug down into the soil, laid out small stones, tamped down the ground, and then heaped up layers of sand to stop the road from getting muddy. Then, they’d covered the moist surface with twigs and leaves before heaping soil on top.
This prevented the ground from getting waterlogged or eroding from rain or underground moisture. No matter whether it was silkworm farming, regular agriculture, or building that road, the Saname family were masters at the art of coming up with ingenious solutions to improve things.
Every time Shin stepped onto that road, he felt proud. There were many other people taking the same route, but each and every one of them bowed and said hello when they saw him. Even now, the Saname family were treated as the rulers of the land.
The Saname family residence stood on a hill a short distance away from the other settlements. Shin could already see its remarkably large gate. The yellowish-brown mud walls glistened like gold in the sun.
Instead of going in that direction, however, Shin went down a side road. A gentle, hilly area that was covered in mulberry fields stretched before his eyes. Unsurprisingly for the time of year, the mulberry plants had dropped their leaves. Although the region enjoyed a temperate climate, it still experienced four distinct seasons, and the winters were reasonably chilly.
The hill led to one particular mountain that hovered above the harbor, and Shin began to climb the mountain path. Before long, he could see things that were hidden from view just moments earlier. A small house appeared from among the trees. It was a rather unique building with a thatched roof and an intricate lattice window and a peephole on its door. The house was circled by a brushwood fence, but it was falling apart in places and had several holes—likely damage caused by wild animals.
Shin could hear weaving coming from the house. It was a light, rhythmical sound—one that he had loved ever since he was a young child. He wanted so much for the sound to continue that he hesitated to call to the person inside—but after he’d been standing there for a few moments, the weaving sound halted, nonetheless.
An old woman appeared from inside the house. “I knew it had to be you, young master,” she said, smiling merrily at him, “I can tell I’ve got visitors because I can hear their footsteps against the dry leaves—and only you would be as polite as to wait before calling out to me.”
“That’s very perceptive of you.”
Shin gave the old lady a friendly smile back. Her name was Kansa, and she had been Shin’s mother’s wet nurse. Kansa came to the Saname family at the same time his mother had married into it, and she had retired to this home after his mother died, after Banka was born. The house itself had been given to his mother as a place for her to recuperate.
Shin had more of a bond with Kansa than he had with his own mother and his own wet nurse—and they were still just as close.
“I hear you’ve been in the imperial capital. When did you make it back?” she asked.
“Just a few moments ago.”
“I assume you haven’t seen Choyo yet, then.” “I’ll go see him next,” Shin answered.
“It’s very wayward of you, coming to visit an old hag like me before seeing your own father,” said Kansa, but she made no effort to send Shin on his way—in fact, she invited him inside.
The loom stood right in the entrance to the house, the inside of which was divided into rooms with curtains. Behind the house was a separate building—a silkworm-rearing room where Kansa raised silkworms and harvested thread from them. She insisted that looking after them herself was no trouble, so didn’t usually have any servant girls helping her. It was only during particularly busy periods that she’d employ a young servant girl to lend a hand, but it still seemed like a challenging task for an old lady and a young girl to take care of silkworms all by themselves. Silkwormrearing may have been her job, but when they were growing, the silkworms needed to be fed chopped-up mulberry leaves numerous times a day. They required round-the-clock surveillance, so it was a fairly intense job.
“How about you put a stop to raising silkworms soon?” asked Shin.
The Saname family made sure Kansa was well provided for, so she shouldn’t have had any problems in that area. Even so, she insisted that without her silkworms, she wouldn’t have anything else left to do.
“It’s not working that’s going to ruin my health—it’s being inactive. That’s just how people like me are built.”
“You say that, but…”
“I still want to weave silk for you to wear, young master.” Kansa then stood up and brought over some fabric from the back of the room. It was white silk, not yet dyed. “This is what I’ve woven most recently. I was considering having it sent to your residence, but it works out perfectly that you’re here.”
Shin unfolded the fabric. He was astounded at how smooth it was—the silk was woven so tightly that you couldn’t tell where one thread ended and the next one started.
“I can tell that your skills haven’t diminished. No—in fact, it’s as if your weaving has gotten even more impressive over the years.”
“You’re flattering me,” Kansa replied.
It wasn’t flattery. Kansa had always been a masterful weaver, but as the years went by, she’d polished her skills even further.