"About that recital group. The other day, when I treated Tōfū to tochimenbō, he mentioned it. Their second gathering, he said, will be grander. They're inviting renowned literary scholars, and he beseeched me to attend. I asked if they'd be doing another of Chikamatsu's domestic period dramas, and he told me that, no, this time they've gone full modern, deciding on Konjiki Yasha. I asked him what his role was, and he said he'd be doing Omiya. Tōfū as Omiya should be good. I intend, by all means, to be there and cheer him on." "Should be good," Kangetsu concurred with a curious laugh. "I do admire, though, the fellow's sincerity. He's not at all flippant like Meitei." The master, in one fell swoop, sought payback for Andrea del Sarto, peacock tongues, and tochimenbō. Meitei paid little heed. "You know me well. I'm the quintessential Gyōtoku cutting board," he replied with a smile. "You're right on that count," the master shot back. Truth be told, the master was not familiar with the term "Gyōtoku cutting board." However, during long years as a teacher he'd faked his way through this and that, and he was practiced enough to apply his classroom savvy to social settings. "What do you mean by Gyōtoku cutting board?" Kangetsu asked with candor. The master shifted his gaze to the alcove. "I bought that daffodil late last year, on my way home from the baths. It's held up well, don't you think?" He's out to quash the Gyōtoku cutting board. "Speaking of year's end, I experienced something most curious at the close of this past year." Meitei, like a street performer, is spinning his pipe on his fingertips. "What was that? Let's hear it." The master, sensing that the Gyōtoku cutting board has been left by the wayside, breathes a sigh of relief. Meitei's curious experience is as follows.