Old Ginger Is Spicier

The warm autumn sun filtered through the maple leaves in the Senju Clan's courtyard, casting dappled golden shadows on the bluestone slabs. In the center of the courtyard, dozens of low tables were arranged in rows, with people gathered around them, discussing animatedly.

Senba, sitting quietly at the end of his row, kept his body perfectly straight, but only he knew what kind of torture he was enduring. Just as he felt he was about to faint from hunger, a strangely rich aroma suddenly seemed to sprout wings and dive into his nose.

It was the sweet scent of fried mochi and red bean soup mingled together. This made Senba's tightly controlled reason begin to crumble uncontrollably. It felt as if countless tiny hands were impatiently trying to break free from his eyes and rush toward the source of the aroma.

He stiffly turned his neck, following the scent. He saw several women in maid outfits, each carrying a tray, smiling as they walked toward the seating area for the young people. This brought a look of joy to the eyes of the youths, including Senba. At their age, their bodies were active and consumed a lot of energy, so these snacks couldn't have come at a better time.

The elder presiding over the meeting saw this. Although it was against the rules, he recognized them as Lady Momoka's personal maids, so he said nothing.

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So, Senba remained seated, his back straight and his posture dignified. However, his hands moved as swiftly as if he were forming hand seals. The moment the pastries were placed on the table, he began to eat at a speed that was astonishing.

The golden fried mochi had a crispy exterior and a soft, chewy interior. The fried meatballs were bursting with juice, and the red bean soup was sweet but not cloying. The warm soup slid down his throat, soothing his hungry stomach.

Several youths of the same age sitting next to him were eating cautiously at first. But when they noticed Senba's movements, they all gradually let go of their inhibitions and happily ate their snacks.

"So he was just hungry? No wonder he felt different from what the intel said."

Tsunade, sitting next to Grandma Momoka, secretly took out a beautifully crafted small wine flask and took a sip before sighing with contentment. "Grandma, it's time. I'll go greet Teacher and the others first."

With that, she got up and left while Senju Momoka was drowsy. Grandma is really getting old. She was slow to move in the backyard earlier, but her spirits were good. Now, after just sitting for a short while, she's already tired.

Hearing Tsunade's footsteps as she left, Senju Momoka slowly opened her eyes. She glanced at the people outside who were adjusting their attire to welcome the Third Generation, then resumed her drowsy appearance, lest some people overthink things.

Finally managing to appease his stomach with the fried mochi and red bean soup, Senba also knew of the Third Generation's arrival when everyone stood up. So, he tidied his clothes and stood quietly behind everyone, watching this highly controversial Third Generation.

The early autumn air had already turned slightly chilly. But within the high walls of the Uchiha compound, the hearts of the Uchiha clansmen were colder than the weather.

When villagers passed by outside the walls, they would subconsciously quicken their pace. Their evasive glances felt like sharp thorns piercing the sensitive hearts of every Uchiha clansman.

In the dark clan meeting hall, candlelight flickered, casting shadows on Uchiha Fugaku's face. He sat in the main seat, his fingertips tapping lightly on the table, his gaze fixed on the young man in clan attire below.

"Shisui," Fugaku's voice was deep, carrying an undeniable authority. "The Nine-Tails' Rampage has deepened the village's suspicion of us. You are the most talented junior in the clan. I have already recommended you to the Third Generation to join the ANBU, hoping to mediate the conflict between both sides."

Shisui's body stiffened slightly. He raised his head, his Sharingan eyes calm and unwavering, showing no surprise or resistance.

He had long known the clan's predicament and understood the village's concerns. He also wished he could mediate the relationship between the clan and the village. This was a task given to him by the clan head, and it was also his own wish.

"I understand," Shisui's voice was gentle, yet carried a firmness beyond his years. "I will join the ANBU."

A flicker of approval flashed in Fugaku's eyes, quickly replaced by deep worry. "Remember, you are an Uchiha. In the ANBU, you must not only serve the village but also strive for the clan's rightful position and respect."

"Clan head, don't worry, Shisui understands," Shisui nodded gently.

Seeing this, Uchiha Fugaku felt slightly relieved. He knew that dissatisfaction with the village was growing among many clansmen, especially after Elder Uchiha Setsuna was released. This elder, with a past record of rebellion, was now subtly becoming the leader of the hawks. Conversely, he had to favor the doves to maintain balance.

"I hope we can find a solution that satisfies both sides. At the very least, I hope Mikoto and the other two won't be affected."

Watching Shisui's departing figure, Uchiha Fugaku thought to himself.

Senba felt something was wrong with his body. He felt a strange sense of weakness, not from physical strength or chakra, but a fundamental weakness.

"My mind is clear, my body and chakra are functioning fine. Could it be..." With this thought, Senba quietly hid in a corner where no one was paying attention, closed his eyes, and used a small hypnosis technique to fall into a brief slumber.

In the darkness, Senba found himself in front of Senba of the Forest, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground. The latter looked at the chakra flames before him with a heavy expression. He had his hands plunged into the chakra flames, as if supporting something.

"Main body, something has happened. There was something wrong with the food you just ate. There's a drug in it that can make your bloodline power dormant. You've been set up."

Senba of the Forest's words made Senba frown. He hadn't expected to encounter something like this. But why?

His body's bloodline was only beneficial to the Senju Clan, with no downsides. Furthermore, Senju Momoka and his grandfather Miki were good friends, and Grandpa Yunhua's attitude towards him indicated that Senju Momoka wouldn't act against him. So, was it for some other reason?

Thinking of this, Senba recalled today's gathering. A clan gathering, guests... was it the Third Generation?

"Senba of the Forest, don't stop the bloodline from going dormant!"

Hearing his main body's command, Senba of the Forest immediately withdrew his hands. The next moment, he became drowsy, struggling to open his eyes to look at Senba. "Main body, take care!"

With that, Senba of the Forest became like a stone statue, sitting quietly on the ground.

When Senba reopened his eyes, he ignored the peer who was giving him a thumbs-up next to him. The other youth was very impressed that he could still fall asleep on such an occasion.

Senba raised his head and looked at Senju Momoka, who was chatting and laughing with the Third Generation in the main seat. The latter still appeared incredibly old, exuding an aura of decay.

However, after what had just happened, Senba's vigilance towards the old man reached its peak. How could someone who survived the chaotic Warring States period be simple?

Old ginger is the spiciest.