I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 116 Peanuts and Candy (Bonus Chapter 4 for Monthly Tickets)

As he was fastening his backpack buckle, Old Big suddenly leaned over, his expression somewhat uneasy.

"Young man, let me ask you something from the bottom of my heart."

"you say."

"Have you really not considered taking our covert route?"

Richard paused for a moment while fastening his buckle.

"You did well on your inspiration test today, and your breathing technique has a solid foundation. This shows that you have a good control over the ether, which is essential for clairvoyance."

"Good control combined with enough inspiration makes them excellent prospects in our covert field."

"If you are willing to take the secret path, I can formally recommend you to the teacher."

With your current foundation, your chances of graduating are much higher than mine were back then. You might even reach the level of Senior Sister McNeil someday.

After he finished speaking, he looked at Richard with anticipation.

Richard fastened the buckle and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

"Old Big, I will learn everything you teach me carefully. Vision and divination are very helpful to my professional career."

He considered his words carefully and politely declined:

"But I've already gone quite a distance down the path of being a scholar. The faculty, resources, and pathways to higher education are all there. It would be too costly to turn back now and change direction."

Old Big's expression changed from anticipation to regret.

"Sigh, I knew you'd say that."

He patted his thigh and stood up:

"Alright, alright, a scholar it is. Anyway, clairvoyance and divination are interchangeable. You can shine just as brightly as a scholar once you've learned them."

He tidied up the remaining items on the table, putting the ten test items back into the canvas bag one by one.

"Are you coming again next week?"

"Of course I'll come."

"Next week I'll tell you about the specific uses of clairvoyance in identifying unknown objects, which is also the initial motivation for most scholars to study clairvoyance."

He squinted and smiled.

"If you hold something in your hand and fixate on it with your spiritual vision for thirty seconds, you can see more information than you would find by searching through three days of data."

This statement struck a chord with Richard.

Richard slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward the door, but stopped at the door frame.

"Old Big, I won't tell anyone about those things you just said about inspiration and Mrs. Mary."

Old Big paused for a moment, then laughed.

"I know."

He waved his hand: "Go ahead, be careful on the road, and don't take secluded roads after dark."

"The same to you."

"I have a gun, what's there to be afraid of?" Old Big patted the bulge at his waist.

"The thugs in Briston all avoid me. Last time, one guy tried to steal my tool bag, and I chased him from the third floor to the first floor."

"Did you catch up?"

"I didn't catch up, and I even tripped on the stairs and fell face-first into the mud."

By the time I left the branch office, it was completely dark.

In Bristol, winter evenings come very early; the streetlights begin to come on before five o'clock.

The flame of the gas lamp flickered inside the glass cover, illuminating the puddles on the road with varying degrees of light and shadow.

Richard tightened the straps of his backpack over his shoulder and quickened his pace toward home.

The panel was quietly lit up in the corner of the field of vision.

[Knowledge Lv.2] Progress: 58%

It has increased by two percentage points since I saw it from the carriage this morning.

The introductory knowledge of psychic vision and divination taught by Old Big this afternoon has had a very significant effect on enhancing my knowledge and experience.

Indeed, if you want to learn quickly, you have to keep learning new knowledge.

Especially knowledge areas related to the mystical side that have never been explored before.

The theoretical framework of clairvoyance, the underlying logic of divination, the operational principles of candle reading... every new piece of knowledge flowing into the brain causes the learning progress bar to jump at a speed far exceeding that of ordinary classroom learning.

When he reached the intersection of Grafton Street and Post Office Street, the old man selling roasted chestnuts by the roadside had already packed up his stall; his cart was locked next to the iron railings on the street corner, and the charcoal fire had long since gone out.

However, he didn't plan to buy chestnuts today.

Three blocks from his home, he turned into a slightly narrow alley.

At the entrance of the alley, a small shop still had its lights on, with a faded wooden sign hanging above the door, depicting a squirrel with its tail raised.

The shop sells all kinds of candies and dried fruits.

Rows of glass jars were displayed on the counter, containing toffee, mints, almonds, dried plums, caramelized peanuts, and candied fruits.

Richard went inside and scanned the area in front of the counter.

"What's the price?" he asked, pointing to the caramelized peanuts and mints.

"Peanuts cost one penny per ounce, and peppermints cost one and a half pennies."

He bought two ounces of caramelized peanuts and one ounce of mints, which the shopkeeper wrapped in brown paper and handed over with two twisted corners.

Emerging from the alley, he carried two bags of snacks in his hands and continued walking home.

He had figured out his sister's tastes perfectly.

Every time he came back from running errands, as long as he handed some snacks to his sister, her face, which was full of questions, would be filled with food.

The mouth that was originally going to ask "Where did you go?", "Is it Latin again?", "What are you doing?" will be shut up by caramel peanuts, at least until she finishes eating.

Once she finished eating, her attention had already shifted to other things.

When I opened the door, the smell of stewing soup wafted from the hallway.

"You're back?" Her mother's voice came from the kitchen.

"I'm back."

"Dinner will have to wait a while longer; the soup isn't ready yet."

He went upstairs first, put his schoolbag in his room and locked it.

Then I took the two bags of snacks downstairs and walked to my sister's room.

The door was ajar, and Evelyn was doing her homework at her desk, the pen scratching softly on the paper.

He knocked on the door frame twice.

"what?"

He didn't even turn his head.

"I brought you something nice."

Evelyn stopped writing.

She slowly turned her head, her gray eyes first falling on his face, then sliding to the two brown paper packages he was holding.

"What good stuff?"

"Caramelized peanuts and mints."

She sprang up from the chair, took three steps to the door, and reached out to grab it.

Richard raised the paper package slightly, just above her height.

"Let me answer one question first."

"...What's the problem?"

How much homework did you do today?

"I wrote a lot."

How many departments?

"Three subjects."

Which three subjects?

"...Geography, arithmetic, and..." She glanced quickly at the textbooks spread out on her desk, "and history."

"Okay, then I'll reward you with some sweets." He placed the paper packet in his sister's outstretched hand.

Evelyn immediately hugged the two bags of snacks to her chest and retreated back to her room.

She kicked the door shut, followed by the rustling sound of a paper package being torn open.

She stopped asking where her brother went on Sunday afternoon altogether.

Richard stood in the corridor and chuckled softly.

He had completely figured out this gluttonous girl's nature; a bag of caramel peanuts could buy him at least two days of peace and quiet.

Dinner was braised beef brisket soup with hot bread.

My mother spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen stewing beef brisket with onions and carrots until it was tender and the soup was thick and rich, with a layer of oil clinging to the edge of the iron pot.

My father came home from the factory a little earlier than usual. He read the newspaper in the living room for a while before sitting down at the table.

Richard helped his mother bring out the soup bowl and bread plate and set them out.

"Evelyn..." her mother called upstairs, "Come down for dinner."

The sound of slow, hesitant footsteps came from upstairs, and my younger sister was also a little slow in sitting down at the dining table.

She pulled out a chair, sat down, and stared at the steaming bowl of beef brisket soup in front of her without moving.

She scooped up half a spoonful of soup and brought it to her lips, then stopped.

Put down the spoon and pick up the bread.

I broke off a small piece of bread, put it in my mouth, and chewed it a couple of times.

Then he started to look troubled.

Richard was drinking soup with his head down across from her, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed that his sister's bowl had hardly shrunk.

The mother sat down with her bowl in her hand and glanced at her daughter.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

"No." Evelyn's voice was a notch softer than usual.

"Then why aren't you eating? The soup has been simmering all afternoon. You said you wanted to drink beef brisket soup last week."

Evelyn picked up the spoon again and scooped out another spoonful.

She chewed like she was chewing gummy candy—slowly and reluctantly.

The father put down his newspaper and glanced at his daughter.

"Don't force yourself to eat if you can't."

"I didn't force myself..." Evelyn placed the spoon on the rim of the bowl, her voice growing softer and softer.

The mother's gaze moved from her daughter's face to the bowl in front of her, and then back to her face.

"Did you eat something this afternoon?"

Evelyn's back stiffened.

"no."

"No?" The mother's expression was chilling.

In this family where every piece of butter is precisely cut, "waste" is more serious than "failing".

Evelyn lowered her head, her fingers rubbing back and forth along the edge of the tablecloth.

"Evelyn!" Her mother's voice rose.

"...I ate a little something this afternoon."

"What is it?"

"Caramelized peanuts...and peppermints."

"How much did you eat?"

"...One pack, no, two packs."

The mother placed the spoon in her hand into the bowl, making a crisp clinking sound.

The entire dining table fell silent immediately.

The father's hand, holding the teacup, hovered in mid-air before he decisively turned his attention back to the newspaper.

"Two packs?" The mother's tone remained unchanged.

But this calm often foreshadows a storm.

"I only intended to eat a few..." Evelyn's voice trailed off:

"But the peanuts were so delicious, and the mints were delicious too, and then..."

"Then we finished eating."

"……Um."

"I finished my snacks before dinner and now I'm sitting here staring blankly at the beef brisket soup I've been simmering all afternoon."

Margaret reached out and picked up the soup bowl in front of her daughter, then went into the kitchen and poured the soup back into the pot.

When they came back, they were carrying a plate of lettuce leaves.

"You'll eat this tonight, and you have to finish it."

Evelyn looked at the plate of bright green leafy vegetables in front of her, which had no salt or salad dressing, opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

Throughout the entire dinner, Richard kept his head down, drinking his soup.

As he looked up, Evelyn's gaze, which was poking at the vegetable leaves, swept over him.

Her gaze was filled with a silent accusation against the person who handed her the snacks.

Richard pretended not to see anything.

After the meal, he helped his mother clear the dishes.

Evelyn stormed upstairs and slammed the door shut behind her.

The father remained seated in the living room chair, reading the newspaper, without offering any opinion.

My mother was washing dishes in the kitchen, the sound of the faucet running and the clinking of the dishes mingling together.

Richard stood at the kitchen doorway, hesitated for a moment, and then revealed the source of the snacks.

"Mom, those peanuts and candy were bought for her."

Margaret put the bowl back in the dish rack and dried her hands with her apron.

"I don't object to you buying her snacks, but next time you buy something, tell her to eat it after her meal."

"I'll be more careful next time."

"Um."

He went upstairs to his room.

As he passed Evelyn's room, he slowed his pace and listened intently.

There was no rustling sound of homework being done, nor the rustling sound of flipping through magazines.

There was only a crunching sound.

It was very quiet, but very rhythmic.

The girl ate all the peanuts, but she clearly left some peppermint candies.