I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Mr. Hutton's class was the last period in the afternoon.

It discusses the city-state politics during the decline of the Aegean civilization, and has little to do with the mystical side; it falls under the category of serious history lessons.

But Richard listened very carefully; Mr. Hutton might be planting a foreshadowing in every little detail of his lessons.

After the bell rang, the students surged towards the entrance like a floodgate being opened.

Richard deliberately packed his schoolbag very slowly.

When only he and Mr. Hutton were left in the classroom, he zipped up his backpack and walked to the front of the classroom.

"Sir, I have a question I'd like to ask you."

Mr. Hutton was putting his lecture notes into a folder: "Go on."

"You mentioned the Oracle of Delphi in the last class. I've been reading some materials about the ancient priestly knowledge system recently, and there's a question I've been struggling to answer."

He was very careful with his words, going over each one in his mind before uttering them:

Do you think the priests' "predictions" were purely based on information integration, or were there other factors involved?

Mr. Hutton placed the folder on the desktop, and his way of looking at Richard changed.

Unlike how a teacher looks at a student, this is more like looking at a potential colleague.

"The question you asked goes beyond the scope of the textbook."

"I know."

The old man took out his pipe to light it, glanced at Richard, and ultimately did not light it.

"Williams, have you ever heard of the word ether?"

Richard gave the answer he had prepared long ago:

"The Greek word pneuma means breath or life force."

The Stoics used it to refer to the rational force that permeates all things, and Aristotle also used a similar concept when discussing celestial motion, as another name for the fifth element.

"The answer is in the textbook," Mr. Hutton smiled. "Not bad, but incomplete."

"The ancients chose this term because, under certain training, people can indeed perceive things that are not part of the air."

Mr. Hutton rubbed the pipe in his hand.

"Of course, there is no evidence to support this within the framework of modern science. Professors at the Royal Society would say it's a psychological suggestion, and I have to teach it that way in class."

He put his pipe back on the table and sat down on the edge of the podium.

"But personally, I believe that a truly rigorous scholar shouldn't conclude that something doesn't exist just because it can't be measured by existing instruments. What do you think?"

"I think you're right," Richard said. "The range of instruments is constantly expanding; people three hundred years ago couldn't even detect electromagnetic waves."

The old man nodded, somewhat relieved.

Richard seized this opportunity and tentatively steered the conversation in a different direction:

"Sir, I ran into Lillian Hayward on the third floor of the library. She seems to go there quite often."

The old man raised his eyebrows and said sarcastically:

"Williams, isn't it a bit inappropriate for you to be asking me about your female classmates?"

"I did not mean that……"

"Young people, it's normal for them to notice pretty girls."

Mr. Hutton waved his hand, giving him an "I understand" look: "But I can't exactly act as a go-between for you asking this in front of the teacher, can I?"

Richard was somewhat helpless; the old gentleman had steered the conversation off-topic so neatly and efficiently.

But precisely because the deviation was so smooth, he became certain that the other party did not intend to reveal any information about this matter.

Of course, this in itself is a piece of information.

He abandoned his probing and turned to the question he truly wanted to ask: "Sir, I have finished reading Appendix C."

"Three days, including deciphering the code."

Mr. Hutton became serious: "Three days?"

Richard didn't deliberately hide his abilities; only by letting the other party know his true level could he get guidance for the next step.

"The second part mentions the classification of breathing techniques, but does not provide specific methods of practice. I want to find those methods."

The old man stared at him:

"Do you know why I went through all this trouble to make you decipher it yourself, instead of just telling you the content directly?"

"Screening," Richard said.

"Explain in more detail."

You need to confirm two things.

First, do I have enough knowledge to understand that content?

Second, did I handle those contents with sufficient care?

"Not entirely right, but enough." Mr. Hutton stood up and pushed his chair back under the table.

"There's a third thing. I need to make sure you have enough sense of propriety to know what questions you can ask and what questions you have to find the answers to yourself."

He walked to the window and closed it tightly.

"Williams, the reason why some knowledge is encrypted, written in code, and hidden in the appendix of obscure books is not because the writer likes to be mysterious."

"It's because that knowledge itself carries a certain... pollution."

"Mystical knowledge written in plain language can be very burdensome for people who do not have a basic understanding of it."

Mild headaches with hallucinations, severe... you probably wouldn't want to know.

"The encryption of coded messages is a protection mechanism, and those who can decipher it usually have the ability to handle the content."

Richard mentally marked this message as the highest priority.

Knowledge pollution, combined with the word "wandering spirit" in the warning at the end of Part Three of Appendix C, shows that the world behind the veil is indeed very dangerous.

"So, the specific details of the breathing technique..."

Mr. Hutton interrupted him:

"Have you counted how many books are in that row of bookshelves you saw on the third floor?"

Richard recalled: "About twenty books."

"Yes, what you can decipher from it depends on your own abilities."

The old man picked up a red pen and began to annotate the lesson plan.

"Some books contain nothing at all; they are just proper academic documents."

Some books have appendices hidden inside, some within the main text, and some only contain half a sentence.

Without even looking up, he said, "I've shown you where the bookshelf is; the rest is up to you."

"Furthermore, I suggest you cultivate text deciphering as a long-term skill."

The pen tip drew a red line on the paper.

"If you want to go further in this industry, you will encounter more and more encrypted texts, and they will become more and more complex. If you can't understand them, you won't be able to move on to the next level."

Richard nodded. "I understand, thank you, sir."

He turned and walked towards the door.

"Williams".

"gentlemen?"

"The Cicero Cup is more important than you think. Prepare well and don't get distracted."

The door closed.

Mr. Hutton put down his red pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked at the old map on the opposite wall.

The map depicts the coastline of the New World, with curled edges and brown rust marks from the thumbtacks.

He mentally placed the two students on opposite ends of a scale.

Lillian is a quick learner and quite sensitive to steganography.

She took the book last month and spent two weeks deciphering the code words in the appendix, with an accuracy rate of about 70%.

This is already quite good for a student who has no background in codebreaking.

But Lillian never came to find him after that incident, whether she was afraid to ask or didn't want to delve deeper into the matter, he didn't know.

Richard Williams deciphered the entire code in three days, including the second layer of nested substitutions.

Now they're proactively asking about breathing techniques, asking with precision and restraint.

This child knows where he is and where he should go next, which shows that he has clear self-planning and sufficient initiative.

Mr. Hutton screwed on the red pen cap and put it in his coat pocket.

When he was young, he studied in the capital, where all the brightest people in the empire gathered. Geniuses were as common as pennies.

But the difference between people, besides talent itself, also lies in the drive to push forward.

Lillian pushed the door open a crack, peeked inside, and then retreated because it was too dark.

After Richard pushed the door open, he called out to the inside, listening to the echo to judge the size of the space before deciding whether to go in.

The latter is much more dangerous than the former, but it can also yield greater rewards.

The old man sighed and closed the lesson plan.

"This young man..." he muttered to himself.