I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 155 Card Game Formation: Crossing the Bridge

"Tonight's tarot spread is called 'Crossing the Bridge,' and I'll show you guys the atmosphere."

Mrs. McNeil held her right hand above the "Bridge" card.

Edmund.

"Yes."

"You climb over the 'bridge'."

Edmund hesitated for a moment, then reached out and opened it.

[Upright/The Hanged Man]

The card depicts a person hanging upside down on a T-shaped cross.

One of his legs was tied with a rope, and the other leg was bent into the shape of the number "4".

The person hanging upside down did not show fear on their face; instead, they exuded tranquility.

"The Hanged Man." Edmund frowned; the meaning of this hand was not good.

"The Hanged Man upright." Mrs. McNeill nodded. "The essence of the bridge is 'delivery' and 'waiting'."

She looked around at the four newcomers.

"The Hanged Man represents voluntary sacrifice, pause, and an inverted perspective."

This time, crossing the veil is essentially us exchanging our own positions for the stability of the seal.

"The Hanged Man upright tells us that this 'delivery' has been approved."

Mr. Hutton added from the side, "The seal itself is willing to accept our group going down to repair it."

"So this is a good thing." The young man's shoulders relaxed.

"Yes," Mrs. McNeil nodded. "The bridge is stable."

She held her right hand above the "Starting Point" sign.

"Maggie, come here."

Maggie reached out and flipped it open.

[Upright Star]

The card depicts a naked woman kneeling by the water.

With her left hand, she poured the water from one jar into the pool, and with her right hand, she poured the water from another jar onto the ground. There were eight stars above her head.

"Stars, hope!" Maggie exclaimed excitedly.

"This shows that our starting point is hope and clarity." Mrs. McNeill nodded:

"The Star (upright) tells us that we will be in a good state when we set off tomorrow."

The repairs over the past few days have stabilized the outer visible layer, and we're moving forward from a very solid starting point.

She raised her right hand above the "bridge".

"Richard, it's your turn."

"Yes."

Richard reached out his hand.

His fingers hovered half an inch from the card, and he could feel the card "breathing" beneath his fingertips.

He opened it.

[Upright Moon]

Richard had seen this card once before.

"The moon at the position of 'crossing the bridge'..." Mrs. McNeil began to interpret:

"When we 'cross the bridge,' we may encounter some illusions."

"What specific illusion?" Theodore asked.

"It cannot be determined in advance." Mrs. McNeil shook her head: "The characteristic of the moon is that it 'cannot be determined in advance.'"

She glanced at Richard.

"Your inspiration is quite high, and the influence of the moon is most pronounced in people with keen perception."

"..." Richard's expression was not good.

"Remember this," Mrs. McNeill reminded her, "During the 'crossing the bridge,' anything that makes you want to 'take another step forward' is a lunar illusion."

Richard recalled the first time he approached the shore, and the voice in his chest that didn't belong to him.

He nodded: "I've got it."

"Okay." Mrs. McNeil moved her right hand above "Finish Line": "Theodore."

"Yes." The boy's hands were trembling; he first wiped his hands on his trouser leg.

He opened it.

[Upright - The World]

The card depicts a dancing woman surrounded by a circle of laurel leaves, with the heads of a human, an eagle, a lion, and a bull at the four corners.

"The world!" Theodore exclaimed in disbelief.

"The world in its upright position." Mrs. McNeill was also somewhat pleased: "This time, the 'end' of the crossing is completion, fulfillment, and closure."

"So it's a happy ending?"

"It's a good ending." Mrs. McNeil pumped her fist to encourage everyone: "We will succeed."

Everyone around the table breathed a sigh of relief, but Mrs. McNeil did not stop.

"Success, but the process of achieving success will be full of ups and downs."

She added, "During this 'crossing the bridge' process, there may be a confrontation, and someone may get injured as a result."

"What exactly is the confrontation? There's only one card left; I'll turn it myself."

She moved her right hand above the word "block" and flipped it open.

[Reversed - The Devil]

The card depicts a goat-headed demon with two people chained at its feet.

But the cards are upside down, with the devil at the bottom and the chains at the top.

"The Devil Reversed"

Upon seeing the Devil card appear, the expressions of the newcomers, who had initially been somewhat pleased, turned gloomy again.

"The Devil reversed," Mrs. McNeill interpreted, "meaning a power that is imprisoned, a force about to break free from its constraints."

She looked up.

Our resistance is...

There's no need to finish speaking; everyone knows what the resistance is.

The one sealed away, "the one who eats shadows".

"She will struggle during our escapades," Mrs. McNeil continued, reasoning.

"The reversed card tells us that her power is 'suppressed,' but 'struggling.'"

Mr. Hutton nodded: "The root of the 'confrontation' we are facing lies here."

"She'll come out?" Theodore swallowed hard.

"She can't get out." Mrs. McNeil shook her head: "The devil's 'reversed' cardinal sign means 'can't get out.' She can only reach out one hand when the seal is weak."

The divination is now complete.

Five cards were laid out on the table. Mrs. McNeil looked at them for a while, then put them back into the deck one by one.

"I've got it," she said to the four newcomers.

"Tomorrow's crossing of the curtain will be a success."

There will be setbacks before success.

"There will be a confrontation, and some people will be injured, but no one will die."

"Got it," the four answered in unison.

"Go to sleep now."

Before going upstairs, Richard glanced back at the desktop.

The cards on the table have all been collected.

Mrs. McNeill sat at the table, with nothing in front of her.

But she remained seated, one hand resting on the deck of cards, without moving.

She was using her inspiration to have a final conversation with the deck of cards.

Back in his room, Richard sat down on the edge of the bed.

[Perception Lv.1] Progress: 93%.

It's less than seven percentage points away from Lv.2.

Practical work in various covert areas is rapidly advancing the progress of [Perception].

[Knowledge Lv.2] Progress: 81%.

The teachings of a mid-level spiritual medium, guided by personal example, are far more beneficial than spending a month alone studying books.

Richard blew out the kerosene lamp and warmed the Sphinx lamp.

He could feel that the lamp was gradually recognizing him and was actively responding to his breathing rhythm.

With each exhale, the lamp body absorbs a wisp of air;

With each inhale, the lamp body sends a little bit of something purer back to him.

"A two-way channel." He recalled a passage from "On Ascending Behind a Curtain."

However, his current two-way channel is still at the level of "strange things" and has not yet entered the level of "tradition".

He put the lamp back into the old flannel and wrapped it up.

Blow out the oil lamp and close your eyes.

[Sleep] Activation: Consciousness sinks to the bottom of the water.

It's snowing again outside.

………………

On the last day of the year, the third-floor office of the Briston branch was turned into a pub.

There were eight wine glasses on the table—four large and four small.

The large glass contains malt whiskey, while the small glass contains ginger tea diluted with hot water.

Older people shouldn't drink strong liquor too quickly; ginger tea is for easing the thirst.

In the center of the table was a deck of cards and a tin tray filled with chips of various colors.

"Old Big, it's your turn."

The speaker was Wentworth, the head of the branch office's inspection team.

He sat opposite old Bige, holding a deck of cards fanned out in his hand.

The man's gaunt, skeletal face had regained some color tonight thanks to the alcohol.

"Let me finish looking at it." Old Big slowly brought the cards closer to his face.

"You've been watching for two minutes."

"I'm just that slow at reading cards," Old Big said without looking up. "If you're getting impatient, just admit defeat."

There were two other people sitting around the table.

One was Brent, an assistant at the coroner's office, and the other was Felton, an old man in charge of files at the branch office.

Brent is the youngest, in his early thirties, and has already had two drinks tonight.

"Old Big, your table plays the same way every year."

Brent grinned: "Three minutes to look at the cards, two minutes to play them, it takes half an hour to finish one round."

"If you're getting impatient, just admit defeat." Old Big finally laid his cards on the table.

He turned over three cards—three eights.

Wentworth looked at his two pairs and sighed.

"...You old geezer, I don't know where you stole your luck from."

"I've used up all my luck from the past ten years at this one table."

Old Biggs swiped his pile of chips from the tin tray in front of him: "They're useless anywhere else."

"That's right." Felton took a sip of ginger tea. "If your teacher hadn't pulled some strings for you, you wouldn't have gotten this easy job."

"Don't laugh at me," old Biggs said, snatching the penny from his hand. "At your age, your handwriting is still as crooked as a primary school student's. How about you straighten it out this year?"

"I'm sixty years old, so it doesn't matter to me whether my handwriting is straight or not."

Laughter erupted around the table.

"Let's get serious." Wentworth finished his glass of whiskey and put it back on the table.

"Old Big, how's that student you're mentoring this year?"

"What student?" Old Big picked up his ginger tea and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"That Cicero Cup runner-up, Gerrard's grandson."

"...He didn't become an apprentice." Old Bige sounded somewhat frustrated when he mentioned Richard: "I taught him, but he wasn't formally accepted into our school."

"Why? Aren't academic and clandestine fields quite overlapping?"

"He wants to focus on the academic system and doesn't want to be too distracted."

"I see." Wentworth wasn't surprised. "The academy system is indeed a cut above the unofficial guilds."

"What a pity." Old Big took a sip of ginger tea. "That kid's inspiration is the second best I've seen in decades."

Everyone tacitly refrained from asking who the first place winner was.

"Cheers!" Felton raised his ginger tea cup. "It's almost midnight, and another year is almost over."

Four cups clinked together on the table.

"For this year."

"For next year."

………………

On the last day of the Christmas light festival, the entire central square was illuminated by thousands of lights, making it as bright as day.

The arcade formed by fir trees extends from the entrance of the square all the way to the central fountain, with each fir tree decorated in a different way.

Some were covered with bells, some with paper stars, and some with small dolls made of sugar threads and candied fruit.

A student stood on either side of Isabella.

Sophia was on her left, and another boy named Thomson was on her right.

Another first-year graduate student, Clara, couldn't come today because she had something to do.

"Mentor, look over there!" Sophia pointed to the end of the arcade.

At the end of the arcade, there is a small, temporary stage.

On stage, several people in costumes are performing a mythological drama about the Black Earth River basin. Isis is picking up Osiris's body piece by piece.

"Is this a new addition to the program this year?" Isabella frowned as she glanced at the crudely made body parts.

"Hmm." Sophia recalled, "The year before last it was Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' last year it was Celtic mythology, and this year it's the mythology of the Black Earth River."

"The lantern festival changes every year." Isabella tightened her scarf. "When I was little, my sister and I came here for the first time. Back then, they were performing 'The Trojan Horse'."

"Your mentor's older sister?" Sophia's eyes lit up. "Could you tell me about coming to the lantern festival when you were little?"

It's New Year's Eve, and Isabella is unusually in high spirits.

"There's nothing wrong with talking about it."

She led two students into the arcade.

The scent of fir trees mingled with the aromas of roasted chestnuts, mulled wine, and baked chestnuts, filling the entire square with a sweet fragrance.

"When my sister and I were little, our father would bring us here every year for the lantern festival."

Isabella tidied her hair behind her ear and gazed absently at the distant lights.

"My father was very strict back then. He rarely let us go out to play. This was the only time of the year that we were allowed to play until late at night."

"So what do you all do?"

"Eat something." Isabella laughed. "I was a real glutton when I was little."

"Why use it?"

"Because my sister said her daughter is also a big eater, so it's a family trait."

Sofia and Thomson both burst out laughing.

Isabella continued speaking:

"I can't resist the sight of roasted chestnuts, and my sister waits for me there."

After I finished eating, she led me to the next stall.

Will she buy anything herself?

"She doesn't like buying food," Isabella shook her head. "She comes to the lantern festival every year and only buys one thing."

"What?"

"Dried daisies".

Thomson was a little surprised: "...Daisy?"

"Yes." Isabella nodded.

"There is a woman on the north side of the square who sets up a dried flower stall every year."

My sister buys a bouquet every year and has been saving them up for many years.

"Is that stall still there?" Sophia glanced around.

"It was still there last year." Isabella wasn't sure either. "I don't know if it'll still be there this year."

The three people walked along the arcade and reached the north side of the square.

The stall was still there, and the old woman looked much older than Isabella remembered; she must be over seventy years old.

The stall was covered with various dried flowers, and daisies were indeed placed in the most conspicuous position.

"You're still here." Isabella walked over.

The old woman looked up at her, and it took her a moment to recognize her through her cloudy eyes.

"...Miss Ashford?"

"It's me," Isabella replied. "My sister and I used to come here every year to buy daisies."

"Oh...oh..." The old woman's face broke into a smile: "How is your sister?"

"Do you still remember your sister?"

"How could I forget? Your sister was the flower-loving child in this area."

"Get me three bunches of daisies." Isabella started to take out her wallet: "Keep one for myself, and give one to each of the two students."

"Okay." The old woman quickly wrapped it up.

As Sophia received the daisies, she noticed the teacher's subtle hand movements.

Isabella just used a wisp of ether to transfer something into this bunch of daisies.

Daisies can remain fresh for a year on the etheric plane.

This was a little trick used by a covert approach, but she saw it clearly.

"Teacher..." Sophia whispered.

"Shh," Isabella shook her head, "We'll talk about it when we get back."

She held the bouquet of daisies in her hand.

"Let's go get some roasted chestnuts."