The afternoon sun gleamed off the polished glass facades of Ginza. Tokyo’s most prestigious luxury district hummed with black town cars, designer shopping bags, and neatly dressed pedestrians.
At the corner of the main crossing stood the twenty-story Mitsukoshi-Kurokawa Luxury Department Tower.
The building was the crown jewel of the Kurokawa Zaibatsu’s retail empire. Gold-trimmed revolving doors spun continuously, welcoming foreign diplomats and wealthy socialites into marble-clad shopping halls.
Lin Mo walked through the entrance alongside Kagura Mio, Grandma Chen, and Little Guo’er. Five-year-old Kenji held Mio’s hand tightly, staring at the sparkling chandeliers with wide, curious eyes.
Mio had washed her face in the clean spirit-spring water, and her skin glowed with youthful vitality. But her red-and-white miko robes were still torn at the hems, and her sneakers were scuffed from months of bicycle delivery work.
“Mr. Lin,” Mio whispered softly, feeling the cold stares of passing shoppers. “Perhaps we should buy clothes from a regular market in Shinjuku. The shops here charge three months of convenience-store wages for a single scarf.”
“Miss Mio,” Lin Mo said with a relaxed smile. “You are the High Priestess of a National Rank-Five Sanctuary. If you wear discount nylon to sacred ceremonies, the gods might think Taichu Group is running out of money. We are buying the best silk in Tokyo.”
