I loaded the Mysticism panel.

His mother draped the dishcloth over her shoulder, walked over, and touched Richard's forehead.

Have you eaten yet?

"not yet."

"I've left some soup in the pot for you; it's still warm. The bread is on the grill."

"Thank you, Mom."

He went to the kitchen, brought out a bowl of soup and bread, and sat down at the table to eat.

Evelyn sat opposite him, elbows propped on the table, staring at him with the air of someone interrogating a criminal.

"So who is that female classmate?"

"Grey, she's in my class."

"Grey? What Grey? What's her full name?"

"Eileen Grey"

The girl searched her mind for a few seconds, her lips moved slightly, as if silently repeating a certain message.

"Grey...the Grey family in the South End?"

"I guess so."

"Brother!" Evelyn slammed her hand on the table, causing the liquid in the soup bowl to slosh.

She leaned forward, with a sense of urgency that something terrible was about to happen:

"You're not being...kept by someone, are you?"

Richard almost spat out the soup in his mouth.

What extracurricular books do you usually read?

"In the books I read, there's a scene in eight out of ten where a poor boy is picked up in a luxurious carriage by a rich young lady!"

"What about the other two?"

"The other two were picked up by wealthy ladies."

"..."

The father folded the newspaper, placed it on the table, and stood up.

He went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water and stopped as he passed the dining table.

"Eat breakfast and get some rest," he said to Richard in a casual tone.

But after taking two steps, he stopped and, with his back to the siblings, added:

"Making friends is a good thing, but you should be mindful of boundaries."

After saying that, he went upstairs.

Evelyn watched her father's departing figure, then turned to Richard and nodded.

"Did you hear that? Dad said so."

"I heard you." Richard finished his soup and used bread to clean the bottom of the bowl.

"My classmate just gave me a ride, you guys are being too anxious."

He stood up to collect the dishes, and as he passed Evelyn, he took the paper package out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

"Grey gave me these scones, do you want to try them?"

Evelyn looked down at the paper package, hesitated for about half a second, and then couldn't resist her curiosity.

Upon opening the paper package, a sweet aroma wafted out. The scones were baked to a golden brown and fluffy perfection, made with ingredients several levels better than those she made in her own home economics class.

She took a bite, her expression becoming even more conflicted: "...It's really delicious."

"It's not as good as what you make," Richard joked with a laugh from the side.

"I don't need you to tell me!" Evelyn said, blushing as she nudged him with her elbow.

That night, Richard waited until all the lights downstairs were off before drawing the curtains and turning on the table lamp.

Having learned his lesson from his sister breaking down the door last time, he faced the door this time so he could listen to any sounds outside.

He copied down the two pages of handwritten content he had seen in the library from memory.

The memory enhancement of [knowledge] made this task easy; each Latin word was clear.

After finishing the dictation, he translated it again, referring to the original text.

The steps of breathing exercises are not complicated; the core consists of only three elements: rhythm, visualization, and anchor point.

The first step is to find your own heartbeat.

Place your fingertips on the artery on the side of your neck or the inside of your wrist and silently count your pulse until you can clearly feel the heartbeat rhythm without touching your skin.

From then on, all counts were in units of heartbeats, not clock time, a point specifically emphasized in the text:

"Clocks are external objects, heartbeats are internal. The foundation of the Way of Gold lies in introspection; all rhythms must originate from within oneself."

The second step is to enter the "fourfold breathing" phase.

Inhale for four counts, hold your breath for four counts, exhale for four counts, and then hold your breath for four counts again, thus completing a full cycle.

The four stages are of equal length and symmetrical to each other, like the four sides of a square.

It is neither too fast nor too slow, neither too biased nor too impartial, with no distinction between the two ends of the four beats, like the two ends of a balance scale. This is why it is called the "Golden Way".

In alchemy, gold does not refer to the metal itself, but to the state of balance in all things: Aurum Philosophicum, the gold of philosophers.

The four stages of breathing are evenly divided, and the practitioner's body and spirit tend to be in harmony in the rhythm. Ether is naturally deposited in this harmony, without the need for force.

The third step is to incorporate visualization into each breath-holding moment.

When you hold your breath for the first time, focus your attention on the area directly behind your sternum, between your two lungs.

It is referred to in the text as the "Seat of the Sun," written in Latin as Sedes Solis.

That is the dwelling place of the "inner sun" in the Hermetic tradition, and also the place where ether is most easily intercepted.

The text specifically reminds readers that visualization does not require seeing anything, nor does it require experiencing real light or heat.

Over time, what is invisible will become visible.

He carefully put away the translated manuscript, sat on the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes.

Air enters through the nasal cavity, passes through the bifurcation of the trachea, and fills both lobes of the lungs.

The bonus of [Breathing Lv.2] makes this process smoother than usual, with lower airway resistance and more full alveolar expansion.

Holding your breath and focusing your attention entirely on the back of your sternum is the most difficult part.

"Focusing your attention on a place that you can't see or touch" sounds simple, but it's extremely easy to get distracted in practice.

Various random thoughts would pop into his mind: tomorrow's class, the Cicero Cup, Grey's car, Evelyn's outrageous speculations... He suppressed these thoughts and refocused.

Hold your breath for one and a half seconds.

Exhale... one, two, exhale evenly from your lungs, controlling the speed so as not to rush.

The first complete cycle ended without me feeling anything.

He continued making the second, the third, and the fourth.

By the fifth cycle, there was a very faint warmth deep in my chest.

It was even fainter than the time he experienced an escalation in his breathing, so faint that he could hardly tell whether it was a real feeling or a psychological suggestion.

But the panel changed.

[Breathing] Experience: +2 (Cultivation Bonus)

The experience points jumped from single digits to two points.

He made a comparison in his mind.

During normal breathing, the experience gained from each breath is almost negligible; it requires accumulating tens of thousands of breaths.

In a meditative state, breathing increases by two points in just a few cycles; the efficiency difference is not even in the same order of magnitude.

If you consistently practice breathing exercises every day, you will reach Level 3 much sooner.

He controlled his excitement and continued with his daily practice.

The numbers on the panel lit up quietly.

[Breathing] Lv.2 Experience: 21/500

He gained nearly ten points in one cultivation session, more than he had anticipated.

At this rate, it could reach Lv.3 in about two months.

Level 3 Breathing Healing brings another qualitative change, resulting in an all-round improvement.

He turned off the desk lamp and lay down on the bed.

Cold air blew in through the cracks in the window, causing the edges of the curtains to flutter slightly.

He didn't close the window, and the air seemed especially sweet tonight.

………………

The pace of campus life continued in a similar manner to before, but there were some subtle shifts in interpersonal relationships.

First, Grey.

After that "on the way" on Wednesday night, she moved her seat from next to Warren to next to Richard during lunchtime tutoring.

They moved several body lengths closer, and the laptop was moved from his lap to the table.

Then there's Lillian.

In the morning, Lillian stopped as she passed Richard in the hallway.

"Williams".

"Um?"

She opened her mouth briefly, then closed it again.

After a silence of about two seconds, she pulled a page from under her textbook and handed it to me.

"The suggestion Mr. West gave you last week."

I found a passage from Cicero's "A Defense of Murena," with a similar structure to the one you used; you can refer to it.

A passage of Latin was copied onto the paper, with accents and pauses marked next to it; the notes were meticulously taken.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Lillian hugged her textbook tighter, turned and left quickly, her braid swaying behind her shoulder.

Richard glanced down at the paper; the handwriting was completely different from Grey's elaborate script, which she had been trained in since childhood.

Lillian's handwriting was small and dense, like it was typed on a typewriter, with each letter neatly placed in its own grid.

The students in the class saw this.

By lunchtime, the news had already spread: Lillian handed Richard a small note.