I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 170 Everything is fine at home

The campsite for the night is about a mile north of St. Anne's Spring.

It was a flat meadow surrounded by hillsides on three sides, with a fire pit made of stones in the center.

Jenkins teaches everyone how to set up a tent.

Richard set up his tent quickly and steadily. Jenkins walked over, glanced at it, and nodded.

"Have you ridden in it before?"

"I've ridden it a few times."

"good."

After settling into the camp, Jenkins took a shotgun out of his backpack.

"Who wants to hunt rabbits?"

Richard raised his hand, and the wool merchant also raised his hand.

The three men walked east along the hillside for about half a mile until they came to a patch of low bushes.

"The rabbits are in the bushes," Jenkins said in a low voice. "They don't come out much this time of year; we'll have to use special hunting shells to blast them out."

He took out several bullets from his ammunition pouch. The bullets were much smaller than ordinary hunting bullets and had a layer of red paint on their outer shells.

"A detonating grenade," he explained. "It makes a loud noise when it explodes in the bushes, but it's almost harmless. After the rabbit is scared out, you can use a regular grenade."

He handed the shotgun to Richard.

"Come here."

"I?"

"Your tent-pitching technique is very steady; you need to be steady when hunting too."

Richard took the hunting rifle.

The gun was heavier than he had imagined, and the feeling of the butt against his shoulder was unfamiliar.

"Aim at the middle of the bushes, don't aim too low, the grenades need to explode in mid-air to be effective."

Richard adjusted his posture, aiming the gun at a point about two feet above the bushes.

Pull the trigger.

boom!

The stun grenades struck the bushes and exploded among the branches and leaves half a second later, emitting a sharp whistling sound.

A commotion suddenly broke out in the bushes.

Three gray rabbits darted out of the bushes and ran away.

Jenkins had already prepared a second gun.

"Bang!"

A rabbit did a somersault and fell onto the grass.

"Bang!"

The second one fell down too.

The third one ran too fast and disappeared into another thicket.

"Two are enough." Jenkins put the gun away. "We can roast them tonight."

The wool merchant went to collect rabbits, and Jenkins taught Richard how to unload and safety onto a shotgun.

"How does it feel?"

"The recoil is greater than I expected." Richard stretched his right shoulder.

"That's how it is the first time," Jenkins patted him on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it after a few more games."

By the time we got back to camp, it was almost dark.

Jenkins skinned the two rabbits, skewered them on iron skewers, and roasted them over the fire.

The firelight illuminated everyone's faces, and the air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat.

"Flip it over, flip it over," Jenkins directed the wool merchant as he turned the iron skewer. "Don't let one side burn."

Richard sat by the fire pit with a notebook spread out on his lap, but he didn't really read much of it.

My body is relaxed, and my mind is relaxed too.

The tension that had built up over the past few days gradually dissipated amidst the warmth of the campfire and the laughter of those around me.

There were no seals, no evil spirits, and no veils.

There was only fire, wind, stars, and a group of ordinary people.

"The meat's ready!" Jenkins took the skewers off the fire. "Come on, one leg each."

Richard took a rabbit leg and took a bite.

The outside was crispy and golden brown, while the inside was still steaming with juicy meat.

He took another bite.

After chewing a few times, he frowned; the center of the meat was still pink.

"Mr. Jenkins," he held up the rabbit leg to examine it, "is this...cooked?"

Jenkins leaned over and took a look.

"..."

"It should be ripe by now."

Are you sure?

"It's cooked through, it's definitely done." Jenkins nodded confidently.

Richard looked again at the pink meat.

After thinking about it, he finished the rest of the rabbit legs. They weren't fully cooked, which was just enough to meet the requirements for advancing to level 3 of the "Eating" skill.

Moreover, the current sleeping environment is still a bit too safe; I need to add some "unsafe" factors.

Tonight, he plans to complete the [Sleep] unlock condition in his tent.

The next morning, Richard suddenly opened his eyes in his sleeping bag; he was awakened by a stomachache.

Once he was fully conscious, he kicked open his sleeping bag, put one hand on his stomach, and touched his shoes with the other.

I didn't even have time to put on my coat when I rushed out of the tent.

At 5:45 a.m. on a winter morning, the temperature in the Osborne Hills was around minus three degrees Celsius.

He crouched behind a dead tree at the edge of the camp, his face pale.

When I returned, some people in the camp had already woken up.

A middle school teacher poked half his head out of his tent.

"Young man, are you alright?"

"……fine."

Even after completely emptying his stomach and intestines, Richard's face was still a little pale.

Jenkins, looking guilty, brewed him a pot of ginger soup.

"Drink this to warm your stomach."

"Thanks."

"I'll waive the activity fee and tent rental fees for you," Jenkins said, rubbing his hands together. "Consider it my apology."

"Need not."

"No thanks, no thanks," Jenkins insisted. "I've been a guide for so many years, and this is the first time I've made someone get food poisoning. It's embarrassing."

The middle school teacher next to them laughed so hard he almost fell over.

"Jenkins, I'll never forget that 'it's definitely ripe' look on your face."

"Shut up."

The three retired railway workers were also laughing.

"Young man, how many trips did you make this morning?"

"Four trips," Richard said weakly.

"Hahahaha..."

"Stop laughing!" Jenkins' face flushed red. "It's all my fault!"

Richard felt better after drinking the ginger soup.

He silently opened the panel and glanced at it.

The conditions for unlocking the [Eating] activity have been met.

He closed the panel, unsure whether to thank Jenkins or scold him.

The condition for unlocking the "sleep" feature was met during a night of tossing and turning due to a slight stomach ache.

Reading Shi Fa's words, "There will be friction in the relationship between colleagues," I can confirm that there will indeed be friction.

The second day's journey was shorter than the first, and the group took a different route back to Osborne.

Jenkins walked beside Richard the whole way.

I would ask him from time to time, "Are you okay?", "Do you want to take a break?", "Do you want to drink some more water?"

Li sensed that the other person's guilt might be even more painful than her own stomachache.

"Mr. Jenkins, I'm really alright."

"You still don't look too good."

"It's from walking, not a stomach problem."

"real?"

"real."

Jenkins then relaxed a little.

At 2 p.m., the team returned to Osborne.

The panel shows that the conditions for advancing to the [Walking] skill have also been met.

As they dispersed at the club's entrance, Jenkins shook Richard's hand vigorously.

"Young man, come find me next time you come to Osborne, and I'll take you there for free."

"it is good."

"I will definitely not roast rabbit again next time."

"……good."

The middle school teachers also came over and shook hands with Richard.

"Young man, you're very interesting."

He pulled a business card from his pocket: "My name is Joseph. I teach history at St. John's School in Manchester. Come to Manchester sometime and have some tea with me."

"Thank you, Mr. Joseph."

Three retired railway workers came over together and each patted Richard on the shoulder.

"Young man, get fully recovered before you go out for walks again."

"Jenkins is actually a good guy, except his barbecue is terrible."

"I'm a great griller! You all ate it all!" Jenkins shouted from behind.

"Only that one had an accident last night!"

Richard waved goodbye to everyone.

When he returned to the hotel and was packing his things, he opened the control panel and took a look.

[Walking] - Completed.

[Sleeping] - Completed.

[Eating] - Completed.

He solved the advancement requirements for all three [Body] skills within two days.

On the afternoon of January 5, Richard returned to Briston.

He walked along the familiar street with his backpack, flanked by rows of red brick houses and small gardens enclosed by iron railings.

In winter, there are no flowers in the garden, only a few bare rose branches and a few clumps of holly.

When we got near the slag alley, the air smelled of coal smoke, along with the aroma of yeast wafting from the bakery next door.

Standing at his front door, before he could even take out his keys, the door opened from the inside.

Evelyn emerged from behind the door.

She was wearing a checkered apron, which was covered in flour, and her hands were also white.

The younger sister's gaze started from the top of Richard's head and swept down... hair, face, neck, shoulders, arms, hands, legs, shoes, checking him from head to toe.

"You've lost weight."

"I haven't lost weight."

"You've lost weight," she said confidently. "Your cheeks are sunken here."

"That's a lighting issue."

The mother's voice also came from the kitchen.

"Is Richard back?"

"You're back!" Evelyn called out into the house, stepping aside to make way for the doorway.

She took the suitcase and placed it by the stairs.

Richard walked into the house.

The room was warm and cozy, and the fireplace was burning brightly.

The air smelled of stew, onions, carrots, and a touch of thyme.

My mother came out of the kitchen, carrying a steaming ceramic bowl.

"Have some soup first." She shoved the bowl into Richard's hands. "Were you cold on the way?"

"fine."

"What do you mean 'it's alright'? Your lips are all white." His mother looked him up and down. "You've definitely lost weight."

Richard decided to stop arguing about the issue.

He sat down at the table with his soup bowl and took a sip.

The thick mushroom stew contains diced potatoes and carrots, along with a few slices of tender lamb.

It was hot, salty, and fragrant; he drank half a bowl in one go.

The father came out of the study.

Rogers was wearing his old wool vest and holding a newspaper.

He glanced at Richard and nodded.

"I'm back."

"I'm back."

The father didn't say anything more and turned back to his study.

Evelyn had already moved closer to the dining table, her two flour-covered hands resting on the edge of the table.

"Brother, what gift did you bring me?"

"What's the rush?" Richard put down the soup bowl and slowly wiped his mouth. "Let me put my bag down first."

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Richard lifted his backpack onto the chair, but didn't rush to unbutton it.

He first took off the scarf, folded it twice, and placed it on the back of the chair;

He took off his coat, shook off the snow that had melted into water droplets on his shoulders, and hung it on the coat rack.

When hanging it up, I made sure to flatten the collar.

"Brother..." Evelyn's voice trailed off.

"Why are you dawdling like that!"

"I've been away for over a week, can't I at least catch my breath?"

"...Okay." The girl bit her lip, turned around and went to the kitchen to get a rag, then wiped the two white handprints she had left on the edge of the table clean.

After wiping, it obediently sidled up to the table and continued waiting.

Richard glanced at her, a slight smile playing on his lips, but he didn't let his sister see it.

He finally unbuttoned his backpack.

He reached in and touched it for a while, then his brows slowly furrowed.

Evelyn's eyes immediately locked onto his hand.

Richard switched to the other side of the interlayer, touched it for a while, and his expression became increasingly serious.

Finally, he simply turned the entire backpack upside down and laid it on the chair.

What fell out were a few changes of clothes, a notebook with frayed edges, a tin lunchbox, and half a chewed-up pencil stub.

Gone.

Evelyn's eager anticipation completely crumbled.

"elder brother!"

"Where's my gift?"

Richard slowly raised his head, looking somewhat troubled.

"...Oh no."

"What's wrong?"

"I think I... forgot it at the hotel."

The entire living room fell silent.

The mother peeked out from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, glanced at the glass, and then silently withdrew.

Evelyn blinked twice.

"Which hotel did you forget it at?" Her voice was noticeably softer.

"The Osborne family," Richard said sincerely.

"On my last night, as I was packing, I put the gift on the bedside table, thinking I wouldn't forget it the next morning."

The next morning, I woke up with a stomachache and had to go to the bathroom four times. I was rushing to catch my train and completely forgot about it.

"..."

Evelyn's mouth slowly pursed.

I don't really want to cry, but I do feel wronged. Okay, maybe even more wronged than if I were to actually cry.

She pulled her hands back from the edge of the table, but didn't know where to put them, so she simply draped them back over her apron.

"Then... how long will it take to ship it back?"

"From Osborne to Briston, a parcel usually takes a week to arrive."

"And I didn't write down the hotel's address."

"elder brother!"

Evelyn straightened up from the table and put her hands on her hips.

"When I packed your luggage before you left, I even counted your socks! And you come back and tell me you forgot?"

"There's nothing I can do about it."

"That thing..." She reached out and poked the notebook she'd pulled out of her backpack. "You wrote all over it, how come you haven't forgotten?"

"This is work, it's quite important."

"My gift isn't important?"

Richard stared at his sister for a while.

The little girl's face turned red with anger, from the top of her head to the tips of her ears.

Two gray eyes stared at him, but then deflated halfway through.

"I thought..." she muttered softly, "I thought you'd give me a present as soon as I opened the door."

Richard couldn't bear to look at his sister's pitiful appearance.

But he couldn't help wanting to watch a little longer.

"However..." he said, pretending to have just remembered something.

"I managed to snag a copy of the Daily Mail supplement from the transit point. Do you want it? The front page is about the Sheffield steelworkers strike..."

"I don't want to watch the strike!"

"What about the horse racing results in the capital?"

"I don't want it either!"

"That……"

Richard looked at his sister's puffed-up face.

"Okay." He finally smiled.

Evelyn was stunned.

"...Okay what?"

"Just kidding."

Richard walked to the suitcase, opened it, and pulled out a small cloth bag.

"……you!"

Evelyn's eyes widened first, then her mouth opened, and finally she froze on the spot.

She went from hope to despair, and from despair to resentment.

Just when I thought that the thing I was most looking forward to at the beginning of the year had been ruined, the little cloth bag was taken out perfectly fine the next second.

Evelyn rushed over and raised her hand to pinch his arm.

But then she suddenly remembered that she had flour in her hand, her palm trembled twice in mid-air, and finally managed to stammer out:

"I'm almost in tears!"

"Then I'm sorry."

Richard held the small cloth bag up to her with both hands.

"Apologize."

Evelyn snorted, vigorously rubbed her hands clean on her apron, and reluctantly took the bag.

Untie the string, and inside is a booklet with a picture of a chubby Yorkshire pudding on the cover.

"A traditional Yorkshire pastry recipe, bought at the town's bookstore."

Evelyn turned to the first page, her eyes glued to it.

When she turned to the second page, she whispered, "...I haven't forgiven you yet."

"Um."

"I'm not letting you have the pie I made tonight." She turned to the third page.

Richard waited for her to turn a couple of pages, then pulled a small sachet tied with a silver ribbon from her suitcase.

I bought this on a whim when I passed by the entrance to Osborne town.

"Here you go." He stuffed the sachet into Evelyn's hand.

"What is this now?"

"It's made from wildflowers from around Maiden's Spring in Osborne," Richard explained. "Legend has it that it brings peace and is especially effective for unmarried girls."

"Really?"

"...It's just a legend."

Evelyn turned the sachet over to look at it, then stuffed it directly into her apron pocket.

The gift for my mother was a small bouquet of dried flowers wrapped in cotton paper.

"The lavender from the Gaelic Heights, handmade by the local hostel owner, smells better than the lavender in the flower shops."

The mother took the dried flowers and brought them to her nose to smell them.

"Hmm...it really smells good."

She planned to put it in the bedroom.

Richard walked to the study door and knocked.

"dad."

He handed in a tin can.

"Tobacco cans from the Sheffield steel mill."

This was recommended by Captain Field; it can be bought near the transfer station.

The father took the can, turned it over, and looked at the steel mill markings on the bottom.

"Sheffield steel is indeed of good quality."

Richard returned to the table, where Evelyn had already turned to page five of the recipe and was muttering to herself.

"Hmm... Yorkshire 'Flormeon' pastries are made with a thin pastry crust. The flour should be sifted twice, and the temperature shouldn't be too high when adding the butter..."

She buried herself in her baking journal.

"This Flormon pastry requires molasses. Do you have any at home?" she asked her mother, looking up at her.

There should still be half a can left in the cabinet.

"Is half a can enough for two batches?"

"That's enough, that's enough."

"I'll try it tomorrow." Evelyn lowered her head again. "And this 'Paking Gum' requires oatmeal and ginger powder..."

The mother tidied the table, took away the empty bowls, and brought back a cup of hot tea.

She placed the teacup in front of Richard: "Dinner won't be for another hour."

"it is good."

The fire crackled in the fireplace.

The sky outside the window had darkened, and the streetlights were on.

He is back.

Everything is fine at home.