Tanjirou felt himself sinking into a deep, warm dream.
All around him was a vast expanse of white snow, much like the mountain behind his house, yet even more desolate and silent.
Snowflakes fell soundlessly, and the cold seemed to be shut out.
Then, he saw it.
A figure in a thin festival robe slowly danced in the center of the snowy ground.
The movements were fluid and ancient; the ritual implement in his hand cut through the cold air, carrying an indescribable sense of divinity and power.
Every turn, every swing of the arm, seemed to resonate with the breathing of heaven and earth.
It was his father! It was Hinokami Kagura!
"Father!"
Tanjirou cried out in his heart, desperately wanting to wave, to run over.
But his body seemed to be nailed to the spot, unable to make any sound, only able to watch helplessly.
His father seemed not to hear or see him at all, simply concentrating on performing the Hinokami Kagura Dance, passed down through countless generations.
His body, though so frail, held a majestic vitality in its dance.
After an unknown period, the dance finally drew to a close.
Tanjuro Kamado's movements slowly stopped; he stood silently in the snow, then slowly removed the ceremonial mask from his face.
Beneath the mask was his familiar, gentle face, pale from prolonged illness, yet with clear and profound eyes.
He turned his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the barrier of the dream, landing precisely in Tanjirou's direction, and a wonderfully warm and relieved smile slowly bloomed on his face.
"Tanjirou, you've worked very hard."
There was no sound, but Tanjirou clearly "heard" these words.
In an instant, all the grievances, exhaustion, sorrow, and the fear from the life-and-death struggle he had just endured seemed to find an outlet.
Scalding tears welled up without warning, blurring his vision.
"Father..."
He choked, squeezing out broken syllables from his throat.
The scene before him began to blur and spin; the warm snowy ground and his father's smile gradually receded.
Tanjirou sharply inhaled, startling awake from his dream.
Warm bedding, dry air, and the cool, medicinal sensation from his properly treated wounds.
He found himself in a clean Japanese-style room, dressed in clean clothes, with his deeper wounds carefully bandaged.
Outside, the morning light was already bright.
He subconsciously searched for that figure, his gaze immediately fixing on the other side of the room.
Cheng Mo was sitting by a low table near the window; opposite him sat a beautiful woman wearing a haori with a butterfly wing pattern.
She had purple pupils and hair tips of the same color, and on her face was a faint, seemingly never-fading gentle smile, as she spoke softly to Mr. Cheng Mo.
"...So regarding the 'drug resistance' issue you mentioned, I conducted cultivation experiments according to the notes you left, and indeed observed the strain mutation phenomenon you described, but I still have some questions about how to effectively inhibit or delay this process..."
Kochou Shinobu's voice was gentle and pleasant, but the vocabulary she used was like an incomprehensible heavenly script to Tanjirou.
Mr. Cheng Mo nodded slightly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the rim of his teacup, and began to answer.
His voice was steady, his explanations clear and logical, and the concepts and cases he cited were equally profound and difficult to understand.
Tanjirou watched blankly.
He had never seen anyone interact with Mr. Cheng Mo so naturally, even with gentle undertones.
And Mr. Cheng Mo also displayed rare patience, meticulously analyzing those complex problems.
His answers were clear and structured, providing advice that both pinpointed key issues and offered new directions for exploration.
Lady Kocho's eyes lit up slightly as she listened; she couldn't help but press her hands together, her tone filled with genuine admiration.
"Truly... every time I communicate with Mr. Cheng Mo, I feel like a door to a new world has opened. Your knowledge is simply priceless."
She tilted her head, a hint of slyness flashing in her amethyst-like eyes, and said in a half-joking yet earnest tone, "I feel like calling you 'Mr.' is too formal. How about I call you 'Teacher' from now on? Teacher Cheng Mo?"
Mr. Cheng Mo's hand, holding the teacup, paused almost imperceptibly.
His expression remained calm, but a fleeting hint of unnaturalness and helplessness flashed in his eyes; he seemed to have a headache about this title but couldn't directly reject the "goodwill" of a Hashira.
Tanjirou lay on the bed, listening to their conversation.
He didn't understand most of the profound medical terms, but he heard the two words "Teacher" clearly!
Teacher?!
Tanjirou's ears perked up sharply, his heart feeling as if squeezed by an invisible hand.
This unfamiliar, beautiful woman, who seemed very close to Mr. Cheng Mo... also called Mr. Cheng Mo "Teacher"?
He suddenly remembered Mr. Cheng Mo's perfectly clear words just before he completely lost consciousness—
"Starting today, you are my true disciple."
So... he doesn't just have me as a disciple?
Is this young lady... his senior disciple?
A strange sense of urgency and a subtle feeling of crisis, even he hadn't noticed, quietly arose.
Almost instinctively, he wanted to do something to assert his presence, to remind his Teacher that he was also here.
Almost instinctively, he abruptly sat up from the bedding, disregarding the slight pain from his wounds.
He straightened his back and loudly shouted in a voice as clear as possible, even a little cracked from nervousness:
"Good morning! Teacher!!"
His voice suddenly burst into the room, interrupting the faint bird song outside the window and the harmonious academic exchange by the low table.
Mr. Cheng Mo and Kochou Shinobu both turned to look at him.
Mr. Cheng Mo's expression froze for a moment, then returned to calm.
However, as he looked at Tanjirou's nervous yet eager-to-impress demeanor, his eyes held a complex look.
Kochou Shinobu, on the other hand, widened her beautiful purple eyes slightly, looked at Tanjirou's "righteous" expression, then at the slightly helpless Mr. Cheng Mo beside her, and the gentle smile at the corner of her mouth became somewhat playful and meaningful.
A strange silence fell over the room.
Tanjirou regretted it as soon as he shouted, his cheeks instantly flushing hot.
Oh no, oh no!
What are you doing, Tanjirou Kamado!
Why did you suddenly shout out!
And so loudly!
How rude!
He wished he could immediately burrow back into his futon.
Just as Tanjirou was so embarrassed he didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.
"Knock, knock." A gentle knock sounded.
A masked Kakushi Member carefully opened the door a crack and peered in.
He was completely unaware that he had just broken a delicate moment of awkwardness.
"Um... Mr. Cheng Mo, Lady Kocho," the Kakushi Member reported respectfully, "Our Master has arrived and is waiting in the main hall."
After reporting, he noticed with some confusion that the three people in the room—
Mr. Cheng Mo, Lady Kocho, and even the young man who had just woken up and looked very flustered... all had their gazes fixed on him.
And in their eyes... there seemed to be a hint of... approval?
The Kakushi Member was a little bewildered, not knowing what good deed he had done to earn such gazes from all three simultaneously, and could only bow his head even more respectfully.
Mr. Cheng Mo was the first to stand up, adjusting his collar.
"Understood," he said calmly, as if nothing had just happened.
Kochou Shinobu also elegantly stood up, gave Tanjirou another meaningful look, and the smile on her lips deepened.
Tanjirou scrambled to climb out of the futon but, due to his weakness and embarrassment, almost stumbled.
Mr. Cheng Mo's voice came faintly: "Can you walk?"
Tanjirou immediately forced himself to steady his body and loudly replied: "Yes! Teacher!"
His voice was still loud, attempting to salvage some image.
"Then follow."
Mr. Cheng Mo said, already walking out the door.
Kochou Shinobu chuckled and followed, and as she passed Tanjirou, she whispered, "Be careful of your wounds, Tanjirou 'Junior Disciple' ~"
That "Junior Disciple" was called out sweetly, but it made Tanjirou's face redden even more.
He took a deep breath, suppressed the embarrassment in his heart and the subtly budding wariness towards his "Senior Disciple," and quickly moved his still somewhat weak legs to follow.