Now, the five Avalokitesvara Buddhas are returned to the master’s possession　I was relieved and happy to know that the five Avalokitesvara images were now in my master’s possession.
However, a hope arose in my heart. A few days later, I went to my master and expressed this hope.

Master, will you give me one of the five Kannon bodies? I would like to worship it as my guardian deity for the rest of my life. If you give it to me, I will pay the price you have asked for it. 　I said boldly. 　My eagerness to do so was no different from the grief, nostalgia, and regret I felt when I first heard that Kannon was to be reduced to ashes. 　When I was asked to do so, Master seemed somewhat reluctant to let go of the five bodies, but he was well aware of the fact that I had originally taken the initiative in this case. 　I see. I can give you that. But what on earth do you want? 　With this, the master picked up one of the fine gold pieces that had been carved with particular finesse and asked, “Do you want this? 　Do you want this one?I said, “No, I am not begging you. 　No, that is not what I am asking for. It is this one. 　The one I selected was the work of Zen master Shoun Wonkei. 　I see. You want it? Then I will give it to you. If you want to keep it for the rest of your life, please contact me at …….

The master gladly accepted my request. I was so happy when I paid him in cash for one minute and two red ink. 　My heart leapt with joy at the thought that this Kannon, the work of Zen master Wonkei, was now in my possession. I joyfully took it home with me. 　Then, I placed the right Kannon and sat quietly in front of it. Then I worshipped. The statue, which I had not forgotten after seeing it for many years, was as fine as ever. 　However, when I thought of the great suffering I was about to experience because of the gold on the statue, I was concerned about the gold leaf, so I decided that it would be better to remove the gold from the wood. The lacquer had all fallen off, and the glued joints had become disjointed, so I carefully put them back together again and left the appearance as it was on the wood. I carefully put them back together and restored the original appearance of the wood to its original state. I then dedicated it as my guardian deity, and to this day, I continue to carry it with me.

I have been indebted to Kannon in many ways since I was born, but this Kannon was in danger, and I saved it. I believe that this is also a result of some kind of Buddhist karma. 　As for what happened to the four Kannon that belonged to the master, one went to Iseya Shirozaemon’s house in Asakusa (now the Aoji clan, after the old Fudasaya), and one went to Ikeki in Shinkawa, a famous sake wholesaler at that time. The other went to Hikotaro Owari in Yoshiwara. I don’t remember where the other one went. 　The Kannon that had been returned to my master’s hands was soon in the hands of others and was scattered to pieces, but the work of Zen master Shoun Genkei, whose work I still cherish and worship, was the result of my initial intention to save this Kannon from being burnt to ashes. I feel a deep sense of strangeness. 　This Zen master’s work is from the Tokugawa period, but it is a work that I am not ashamed to say. Zenji was originally a Buddhist priest, and was highly skilled in the art of Buddhist painting. He devoted himself to the creation of five hundred arhats, including a seated statue of Shakyamuni Buddha, an eight-foot statue of Monju and Fugen, and an eight-foot standing statue of Ananda Shakyamuni, a Buddhist monk. The story of Zen masters will be told another day.