That was a time when people still knew the precious virtue of "simplicity" and the world was not as crowded as it is today - when maids of honor and courtesans of brothels deliberately greeted people with smiles and smiles to make sure that the relaxed faces of lords and gentlemen did not look unhappy; when people who lived by their wit, jokes at tea houses and drummers did not have to be so happy; when people who lived by their wit, jokes at tea houses and drummers did not have to be so happy; when people who lived by their wit, jokes at tea houses and drummers did not have to be so happy. Those who made a living by playing tricks, telling jokes in tea houses, and "drummers" could barely make a living, and the world was a time of such ease and contentment. In the dramas and graphic novels of the time, such as "Female Ting Jiurang", "Female Ziraya", and "Female Narukami", the beautiful were always regarded as the strongest and the ugly as the weakest, and all the people were so eager to pursue beauty that they competed to inject color into the gifted bodies, and thus, the fierce and brilliant lines and colors were active on the skin of the men and women of that period.
(Translation: the entertainer who tells jokes and performs after-drink programs to help the drinking party is called a drummer)
Most of the merchants passing by on the official highway had to choose to ride on the sedan chair of the bearer who had beautiful tattoos on his body; the women in the places of entertainment such as Yoshiwara and Tatsumi, beautiful tattoos, were also fascinated by the men; the gamblers and the firefighters were not to be mentioned, and the samurai, a rare sight in the towns, had tattoos on their bodies. tattoos. Sometimes a tattoo convention is held between the two, with participants patting their skin, boasting and commenting on each other's strange designs.
There was a young tattooist named Kiyoshi who was a master of the art. He was so popular that he became as famous as Charybdis of Asakusa, Nuhei of Shimamatsu-cho, and Rolling Jiro, etc. Dozens of people's skins had become the serigraphy of his brushstrokes. Most of the tattoos that have been honored at tattoo contests are his masterpieces. It is said that Damakin's tattooing style is characterized by a hazy look, while Doncho Gonta is praised as a master of vermillion tattoos, and Kiyoshi is known for his strange and alert compositions and colorful lines.
Previously, he admired the style of Toyokuni Kokusai (a famous Japanese ukiyo-e artist), and based on this foundation, he once made a living as an ukiyo-e artist, and now, although he has degenerated into a tattoo artist, he still retains a conscience and talent similar to a painter. If a man does not have the skin and bone structure that is attractive enough to his heart, he will not be able to ask for his tattoo. Often, even with his approval, all the composition and expense is at his mercy, and he has to endure a month or even two of agonizing pain!
In the heart of the young tattooist, there was an unknown joy and desire: the moment he poked the blade of the needle on people's skin, the pain of the muscles that bulged with blood - most of the men let out a bitter moan, which became more intense and incredible, the more he felt unspeakable. The more intense this moan seemed, the more he felt an unspeakable pleasure. It is said that in tattooing, if an extraordinarily painful vermilion or baked prick is used, the expression of his face is one of supreme joy. After five or six hundred stitches a day, the people who came out of the hot water for a period of time to get good results from the touch-ups were all lying dying in front of Kiyoshi; facing this miserable scene, Kiyoshi looked at them coldly:
"It hurts, doesn't it?
He said this while smiling.
When he encountered a man who lacked self-respect and was struggling as if he were dying, with his mouth twisted, his lips clenched, and his voice of misery, he said, "You're kind of a man of Edo, aren't you? I'm not going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do that! ...... My Seigyoshi's needles are extremely painful."
Saying this, he looked at the man's tearful face, and on the other hand, he did not move, continuously stabbing down. When he came across a man who was quite patient, and saw him clenching his teeth and doing his best, but only frowning a little at the pain, he added, "Well, you're really good, you're holding up - but look, it's going to hurt a lot soon! It's going to be unbearable anyway!" He showed his white teeth and grinned.
For many years he had harbored a wish to have a beautiful woman, on whose lustrous skin he had pierced his soul and spirit. There are many requirements for the quality and appearance of the woman. If only the pretty face and beautiful skin, really can not make him very satisfied; he searched all over the flower streets of Edo, even those who are famous for a long time, but its can be suitable for his interest and the mood of a few. He had been longing for the ideal woman for three or four years, but he had never given up on her.
It was on an evening in the summer of the fourth year that he passed in front of Fukagawa's Heikei Restaurant, and suddenly discovered a pair of white women's bare feet behind the curtains of the palanquin that was waiting in front of the door. In his sharp eyes, a pair of human feet, like his face, reflected complex expressions. This woman's feet, in his opinion, is the precious jade in the precious flesh: from the toe to the little toe, the slender five toes, neat; toes of the tone, is no less than the red pink shells can be picked up in the seaside of the island of Ei; rounded heel, like a bead; the skin under the foot of the moist, one suspects that it is constantly washed with the water between the fresh and crisp rock. He thought that these were the only feet that would soon be anointed with the blood of men; and that they would tread on the bodies of men! He y thought that the woman with such a pair of feet was the woman among the women he had been looking for for years! Kiyoshi suppressed his leaping chest, eager to catch a glimpse of this person's face, and although he followed the sedan chair closely, he lost sight of her after walking two or three towns.
Kiyoshi's yearning and longing had turned into intense feelings of infatuation; that year was also approaching the end of the year, and on the morning of one day in the spring of the fifth year, which was already half of his age, he was in his apartment in Saga-cho, Fukagawa, holding a toothpick in his mouth, and was standing on the narrow veranda outside the window, which was dampened with branches and bamboos, admiring the pots of Mannicha, when, outside the courtyard, as if he had been visited by someone, a young girl came in through the fence, who had never seen him before. I've never seen her before.
The girl was sent by a Geisha whom Kiyoshi no Tatsumi was quite close to.
"My sister asked me to give this tunic to the master, and I would like you to draw whatever you like on the lining of the garment. ......"
The girl opened her goose-colored bag and took out the women's tunic and a letter.
The letter, in addition to a heartfelt plea about the tunic, also wrote that the girl who had been sent to visit would soon be a sister of the house, and would be out of the house; please don't forget me, and please promote and take care of this girl .......
"So, I always feel that I have not met yet; so, you have come to this place recently?"
Saying this, Kiyoshi gazed at the girl's graceful figure again and again. She was close to 16 or 17 years old, but her appearance was surprisingly old - as if she had been in Kitasato for quite some time; and incredibly, she was like a half-aged woman, who had been through the ages, and had toyed with the souls of countless men. In the capital, which has become the center of the country's evils and wealth, she has enough charisma to charm all the people who are seeking sex and wine.
"Around June last year, I wondered if you had ever traveled home in a sedan chair from the Heikei House of Cooking?"
Kiyoshi asked her, sitting her down on the edge of the veranda and
gazing carefully at her delicate bare feet on the straw matting.
"Well, father was still alive at that time, and from time to time he would go to Hirakiyoshi to dine with his friends."
The girl smiled and answered the marvelous question.
"I have been waiting for you for five years now. Although this is the first time we have met,
the memory of your bare feet is still fresh in my mind.
── Come, I have something to show you, come up and sit down, it's not busy."
The scroll depicts Daji, the favorite concubine of the ancient tyrant King Zhou: the overburdened body with a gold crown of russet coral, leaning helplessly on the edge of a hooked fence, with the train of her damask garment spread out on a jade courtyard, her right hand tilted to hold a large glass of wine, while she looks out at the man who is about to be executed in front of the court in the shortest possible moment. The style of the princess, and the iron locks to the limbs of the bronze pillar, just waiting for the final fate, closed eyes hanging head before the princess, the man's face, all skillfully depicted to achieve the bleak and horrifying scene.
I expect you to be a truly beautiful woman,
In this tattoo, I injected my soul!
From now on, there will be no woman in the world more superior than you
The girl watched the strange image for a moment, but without realizing it, her pupils glowed and her lips twitched; even more grotesquely, her appearance gradually resembled that of the princess - the girl could see her true self in it! The girl has seen her true self in it!
"This painting reflects your heart!"
Saying this, Kiyoshi smiled pleasantly, and glanced askance at the expression on the girl's face.
"Why do you want me to look at something so horrible?"
The girl raised her pale forehead.
"The woman in the painting is you! The blood of this woman shall have been mingled in your body."
He unfolded another painting.
It was a painting titled "The Hunt": in the center of the painting, a young woman leaned against the trunk of a cherry tree, and at her feet could be seen the corpses of many men. In the center of the painting is a young woman leaning against the trunk of a cherry tree, with the corpses of many men visible at her feet. Beside the woman are a flock of birds flying in triumphant song; in the woman's eyes there is an overflowing color of joyful bravado that is hard to repress. Was it the sight of a battlefield? Or was it the view of a garden in spring? After viewing this, it was as if the girl's mind had detected something lurking in the depths of my heart.
"This is a picture that foretells your future. Those who died here are all those who will lay down their lives for you from now on!"
Saying this, Kiyoshi pointed out that the girl's face was no different from the woman in the painting.
"Please do me a favor and put that scroll away!
As if avoiding a temptation, the girl turned her back on the scroll, and suddenly bent down on the tatami mat, her lips trembling again in a moment.
"Master! I confess: as you know, I do have the same endowment as the woman in the painting. ...... So, I beg your pardon, remove it!"
"Don't be discouraged! It is time to look more closely at the painting; it is no more terrible than it was for a short time!"
Saying this, Kiyoshi's face was adorned with his usual sly grin.
However, the girl could hardly lift her head, hiding her face behind the sleeves of her close-fitting shirt, and remained prostrate:
"Master, please let me go back! It's so scary around you ......" she said several times in succession.
"Not busy, wait a moment. I will make you a woman of exceptional instrumentality!"
Kiyoshi said this as he walked closer to the girl as if nothing had happened. Concealed in his arms was a bottle of anesthetic ...... he had received from the Dutch doctor.
The clear sunlight shot down to the surface of the river and shone bearishly into the large eight-stacked living room. The light reflected from the water, on the girl's naive face, on the papier-maché sliding window, depicting golden ripples, constantly swaying. Kiyoshi, who was holding a tattooed prop in his hand, was sitting in a tightly closed compartment, and it was only now that he carefully viewed the sleeping beauty's marvelous posture. Facing that peaceful face, he thought that even if it was ten years or a hundred years of sitting quietly in this room, he would not know what boredom was. Just like the ancient Mermufix people, with the pyramids and Sphinx (sphinx) to decorate the solemn Egyptian heaven and earth in general, Qing Ji also want to use their own adoration to paint the skin of the clean people.
After a while, he applied the tip of the brush, which was held between the little finger, ring finger and thumb of his left hand, to the girl's back, and on top of that, he pricked the needle with his right hand. The young tattooist's mind melts into the ink, which then penetrates the skin. Each drop of Ryukyu Chu, mixed with shochu, was a drop of his life; in it he saw the color of his own soul.
It was already past noon, and the warmth of the spring day was gradually showing the color of twilight; however, Kiyoshi's hand did not stop, and the woman's sleep was not awakened by it. The followers who had come to meet the girl, fearing her delayed return, had been dismissed with the words, "The girl has long since gone home. As the moon hung in the corner of the houses on the other side of the river, and the dreamlike light streamed into the halls of the houses along the coast, the tattooing was not yet half finished -- Kiyoshi was still flicking the wicks of the candles from time to time.
The injection of a single drop of paint is not an easy task for him; each prick or pull makes him gasp y, as if he were stabbing himself in the heart. The needle marks gradually took on the image of a giant female spider (a black widow-like arachnid), and by the time the night was white again, the creature, with its uncanny wickedness, had stretched out its eight legs and coiled them around the full length of its back.
Spring night, in the up and down the river boat sculling sound of the dawn light; from the dawn of the first pregnant with the morning wind downstream on the top of the white sails, Hakozaki, Nakasu, Reikishi Island house tiles shimmering and glittering moments, Kiyoshi finally put aside the brush, two eyes staring at the spiders tattooed on the girl's back. Only this tattoo could be considered as the whole of his life. But after completing the work, his heart felt empty.
The two figures were silent for some time. Then a low, hoarse voice shook the walls of the room: "I expect you to be a truly beautiful woman, and in this tattoo I have infused my soul! From now on, there will be no superior woman in the world; you have changed your cowardly nature, and all men in the society of men will become the objects of your prey ......"
The words seemed to have clicked, and a faint, silken moan sprang to the girl's lips. She had gradually regained consciousness, panting as if the spider's legs were alive and writhing on her back.
"It's so painful, isn't it? Having your body held tightly by a spider."
At his comment, the girl had opened her expressionless eyes slightly, and what had been dark pupils, like the evening moon, gradually increased in light, shining crystal clear on Kiyoshi's face.
"Master, quickly show me the tattoo on my back,
Since I have borne your life, I should have already transformed into a great beauty, right?"
"Okay, now you can go to the bathroom to take a bath to moisturize the color; it may feel painful, you have to bear it."
Kiyoshi whispered in his ear, as if expressing pity.
"Aigoo~ the hot water is so hot that it hurts me!
Master! Do me a favor and leave me alone,
and wait for me upstairs; I don't like the idea of a man seeing me in such a miserable state."
After bathing, and before she could wipe her body, she pushed away Kiyoshi's sympathetic hand, and resisting the sharp pain in her back, she leapt to lie down on the tatami-mat tiled Japanese room, moaning like a nightmare; what seemed to be a madman's hair was strewn across her cheeks. Behind the woman's back stood a mirrored table, its surface reflecting the soles of a pair of snow-white feet.
Looking at this stunningly beautiful woman, Kiyoshi was shocked, but he could only do as she wished and stayed alone in the living room on the second floor. After about half an hour, the woman brushed her hair and brushed it over her shoulders, and came upstairs after dressing up a little. She unfolded her eyebrows, which still bore traces of bitterness, and leaned over the railing, looking up at the misty sky.
"The painting and the tattoo are both here, take them and you can go home."
Kiyoshi said as he placed the scroll in front of the girl.
"Master, I have thrown my former timid heart to the winds without a trace.
- Master, you should be considered the first man to become the object of my prey?"
The woman's eyes flashed like sharp teeth, and her bones rolled; the sound of a song of triumph rang in her ears.
"Before you go back, let me see the tattoo on your back again ......."
The woman nodded silently, then exposed her stunningly beautiful skin. In between, the morning sunlight happened to illuminate the entire tattoo pattern, and in an instant, the back of the girl's shoulders, brilliantly resplendent!