Once upon a time, there was a tiny teahouse up in the mountains. Built just beside the road leading to the harsh mountain pass, the old owner seldom saw travelers and mostly spent his days farming.
One Autumn day though, a weary samurai came to stop. His tattered blue pants and straw shoes, covered with mud and fallen leaves, were a poor sight. Yet the young man had a noble posture and very refined manners. He called gently:
– Hello? Is there somebody here ?