The Zenin Clan estate was so quiet it bordered on solemnity. Even the lanterns beneath the covered walkway cast a somber glow, making the patterns in the courtyard's dry landscape garden seem deeper and more shadowed.
A servant crept down the long corridor with his head bowed, his fingers clenched white, deliberately keeping even his breathing faint.
He stopped before a tightly closed shoji door. From within came the faint, clear clink of a sake cup against a table, a sound that carried a hint of nonchalance yet conveyed unquestionable authority.
"Enter." A deep, level voice came from inside, sending a shiver through the servant. He hurriedly slid the shoji door open with utmost respect.
The room was dim, lit only by an oil lamp in one corner. The faint scent of sake mingled with fragrant wood in the air.
Naobito Zenin sat with his back to him at a low table beside the window, dressed in a patterned black kimono. His long, jet-black hair was loosely tied behind his head, exposing the stern lines of his back. He held a white porcelain sake cup, tiny ripples stirring across the liquor inside, but never turned around.
The servant immediately dropped to both knees, his forehead nearly touching the floor. His voice was cautiously respectful. "Clan head."
Naobito Zenin did not answer. He merely raised his hand slowly and drained the cup in one gulp, his movements rough and bold, yet marked by an aloofness that kept others at a distance.
The servant swallowed, steadied himself, and continued his report. "Your wife has just safely delivered a son. Both mother and child are well." At that, he relaxed a little, but his voice turned hesitant as he continued. "Only..."
That softly drawn-out "only" made the air in the room freeze. Naobito Zenin's hand paused slightly around his cup, his fingertips tracing the texture of its rim. Still without turning, he said flatly, "Speak."
His tone held not a ripple of emotion, yet the servant felt an invisible pressure bearing down on him. A fine sheen of cold sweat formed on his forehead, and a barely perceptible tremor crept into his voice. "Only, the child... has not cried once since he was born."
After saying this, he kept his head firmly lowered, not daring to look at Naobito Zenin's reaction.
Ordinary newborns gave loud, vigorous cries, proof of their vibrant life. Yet since leaving his mother's womb, this newborn young master had merely curled up quietly, his eyes closed and his breathing steady, without uttering even the faintest cry.
The midwife and maids had panicked. Repeated examinations revealed nothing abnormal, leaving them no choice but to send him to report this strange occurrence to the clan head at once.
A deathly silence settled over the room. Only the oil lamp's flame flickered now and then, stretching Naobito Zenin's shadow across the cold tatami.
Naobito Zenin remained silent for a long time-so long that the servant could barely maintain his kneeling posture-before finally speaking. His voice was still calm and even, but carried a depth that seemed to see through everything. "Understood."
He gently set his cup on the low table with a soft clink, then slowly turned around.
His features remained indistinct in the gloom. Only his eyes shone with startling brightness, as though they held unfathomable pools of icy water. They betrayed neither pleasure nor anger, yet inexplicably made the servant's heart quail.
As Naobito Zenin rose, the hem of his black kimono brushed the tatami with a faint rustle. Without looking at the servant still kneeling on the floor, he headed straight for the birthing room in the inner courtyard. His steps were steady, each one seeming to tread upon everyone's heart. The servant hurried to his feet and followed briskly with his head lowered, not daring to overstep in the slightest.
Outside the birthing room in the inner courtyard, several maids and the midwife stood waiting with their hands lowered, their faces fearful and uneasy.
At the sight of Naobito Zenin approaching, they all immediately fell to their knees, scarcely daring to breathe.
Naobito Zenin pushed the door open and entered without a sideways glance. The faint smells of medicinal herbs and blood filled the room, and the bedding had been neatly arranged.
His wife leaned weakly against the head of the bed, her face pale. When she saw Naobito Zenin enter, she struggled to rise and greet him, but he raised a hand to stop her.
"There's no need for formalities." His voice remained flat, but his gaze passed over his wife and settled on the swaddled infant beside the bed.
The little bundle was wrapped in soft white cloth. The baby lay curled within it, his eyes tightly closed, his long lashes like two tiny fans. His breathing was even and gentle.
His skin was fair, his features as delicate as a carved jade figure, yet he made none of the cries or fussing expected of an infant. He did not even give a faint whimper. He was impossibly quiet.
Naobito Zenin slowly stepped forward and bent down to study his newborn son.
The dim yellow lamplight fell across the infant's face, outlining its soft contours. Yet beneath those tightly closed eyelids, there seemed to lie an indescribable stillness.
He extended a finger and gently touched the baby's cheek. Its warmth confirmed that this was a living child, yet that utterly unnatural silence still lent the room an eerie atmosphere.
"Has he been examined?" Naobito Zenin asked the midwife behind him in a low voice, without turning around.
The midwife hastily kowtowed and replied, "Y-yes, clan head. We have examined him repeatedly. The young master's heart and lungs are sound, his pulse is steady, and there is nothing abnormal about his body. Only... only, he still refuses to cry."
Her voice grew quieter as she continued. "I have delivered countless babies in my time, but never have I seen a child so quiet. I fear... I fear it may be some strange omen."
"A strange omen?" Naobito Zenin repeated softly, his fingertips gently stroking the infant's cheek, his gaze unreadable. "Children of the Zenin Clan are different from ordinary people to begin with."
No sooner had he spoken than the swaddled infant stirred. Naobito Zenin's gaze fell upon that tiny, wrinkled face. The baby's eyelids trembled slightly, as though something had disturbed him, then quickly went still again. They remained tightly closed, and he lay as quiet as sleeping jade.
The tremor was slight and fleeting, yet Naobito Zenin's pupils contracted. He could not put that moment's sensation into words. It was as though something were quietly watching him through those thin eyelids-not with an infant's innocent bewilderment, but with an unfathomable calm, as if it had long since seen through the world's illusions.
The baby did not cry or move again. He simply lay there quietly, his tiny mouth pressed into a straight line, his expression bearing a sternness surprisingly similar to Naobito Zenin's own.
Something stirred in Naobito Zenin's heart. He withdrew his finger and slowly straightened. "Send out the order." He turned, sweeping his gaze over everyone in the room with unquestionable authority. "The young master has been born safely. Announce it to the entire clan in accordance with our rules. As for his failure to cry, anyone who dares utter a word of idle speculation will be punished under clan law."
"Yes!" Everyone hastened to answer, their foreheads pressed to the floor, not daring to voice the slightest objection.
Naobito Zenin stayed no longer and turned to leave the birthing room. As soon as he reached the courtyard, he saw several clan elders already waiting beneath the covered walkway, their expressions varied.
The elder at their head hurried a step forward upon seeing him emerge, his voice tinged with urgency. "Clan head, we heard that the young master was born without crying. This is no trivial matter. It may be an ill omen. We must summon an onmyoji as soon as possible to pray for blessings and drive away evil, or else..."
"There's no need." Naobito Zenin cut him off, his gaze icy. "He is of the Zenin Clan's bloodline. The strongest cursed blood flows through his veins. A minor peculiarity is nothing remarkable. I have reached my own conclusion on this matter. There is no need for further discussion from the elders. Simply attend to your duties."
The elders exchanged glances. Though doubts remained in their hearts, they dared not defy Naobito Zenin's wishes and could only bow and withdraw. The wind swept fallen leaves through the courtyard, carrying a touch of desolation. Naobito Zenin gazed into the deepening dusk in the distance, a complicated light flickering in his eyes.
Would this child, born without a sound, prove a blessing for the Zenin Clan, or the beginning of another storm? He did not know, but he had a faint premonition that this child's future was destined to be anything but ordinary.
Meanwhile, inside the birthing room, the infant still lay quietly with his eyes closed, as though that fleeting tremor had never occurred.