...
The vermilion-painted window frames and polished beams and columns, the courtyard entwined with wisteria and grapevines, the room spread with afternoon sunlight, the immaculate raw wood flooring—occasionally, a few calls of the thrush could be heard from the hanging cage in the hall, intricate and meandering. These sounds, occasionally accompanied by the shakuhachi, shamisen, and the Japanese koto, created an indescribably exotic beauty.
In the center of the courtyard stood an ancient and robust Chinese parasol tree, in the peak of its lush season, its thriving leaves forming an umbrella-like canopy that blocked out the sky, dense and abundant.
The room appeared spacious, but it was actually just as open as a typical bedroom; only, there was no bed, just a neatly folded Japanese tatami mat. On one wall hung a large kanji character for "martial arts," while another wall bore a single bold character for "sword."
