I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The old man turned his attention back to the magnifying glass in his hand.

"Goods from the Eastern Continent are hard to source; shipping costs are high, genuine products are scarce, and counterfeit products are plentiful."

Besides the lamp, there were only a few old coins and a pair of earrings left.

"Can I take a look?"

"Find it yourself on the shelf, don't squeeze it too hard."

Richard walked around the store and found the old coins and earrings.

Three old coins, the panel doesn't respond at all.

The earrings, shaped like two coiled snakes, were crudely made and resembled tourist souvenirs; the panels were also unresponsive.

It's all scrap copper.

He then expanded the search area, scanning items in other areas of the store as well.

The porcelain, silverware, old clocks, old books, and other items native to the Western Continent showed absolutely no reaction.

The only "alive" thing in the whole shop was the Sphinx oil lamp; everything else was inanimate.

The old man's voice came from behind the counter:

"Why are you touching me so enthusiastically today? Are you treating this spot like a photo op?

"No, I just like the design of this lamp."

"If you like it, buy it. It hurts me to see it sitting in your hands every day."

"Not a penny less than two pounds?"

Not a single cent can be missing.

"I'm still a bit short, I'll come back in a while."

The old man snorted, took out a velvet cloth from the drawer, and walked over to carefully wipe the lamp body.

"Are you here to see antiques or to cause damage? You've been covering this lamp for so long, the rust on the wings has deepened."

He straightened the lamp and glared at Richard.

"You weren't sent by a competitor, were you? Did you deliberately damage my stuff to lower the price?"

"Mr. Clement, I am a student."

"Students don't cause trouble? I've seen more bad students than you've eaten bread."

Li realized he couldn't explain things to the old man, so he quickly excused himself.

The copper bell jingled again, and he sighed as he stood in the alley.

It seems that the path of getting something for free is no longer viable.

As the absorption of points became slower each time he came, the old man began to become wary of his frequent visits.

To get the lamp, you still have to spend real money.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked towards home.

………………

When he got home, there was a bicycle parked at the gate of the yard; it didn't belong to him.

Richard pushed open the door, and there was a postman in the living room.

The mother sat on the sofa, clutching a letter in her hand, which she unfolded and placed on her lap.

My father stood by the window, his back to the door, his hands in his pockets.

Evelyn peeked out from the stairwell and, seeing Richard return, winked at him.

The meaning behind that look was clear: something had happened.

"What's wrong?" Richard closed the door.

His mother handed him the letter.

The letter paper was of good quality, thick and with subtle patterns, and the handwriting on it was neat and beautiful, using expensive indigo ink.

The letterhead bears a family crest: an oak tree and a standing lion on a shield-shaped base.

This is my mother's family—the Ashford family.

The letter was very brief:

"A family dinner is scheduled to be held at the Imperial Capital Residence on the 15th of next month."

Margaret Williams (formerly Ashford) and her family were specially invited to attend.

The letter was signed with the butler's name, but a line was handwritten at the end, the handwriting different from the main text, making it more forceful:

"I especially long to see Margaret's eldest son."

My mother looked worse than usual today, and her lips were pursed.

"At the last family gathering, everyone who could go attended," she said softly. "This time, only our family was there."

The kettle in the kitchen boiled, and the steam made the lid rattle loudly, but no one paid any attention to it.

"I have to go, I can't not go."

The mother bent down and folded the letter, the creases pressing down heavily.

Evelyn came down the stairs and sat down next to Richard.

"It was your maternal grandfather who specifically asked to see you," she whispered. "Your mother didn't look too good when she received the letter."

Richard looked at the folded letter on the coffee table and began to organize the information in his mind.

The Ashford family clearly holds a high position in the capital.

My mother's position in that family was probably that of a collateral relative or an illegitimate child; in any case, she didn't have much say in the family.

She met her father at university.

Actually, my father is also very accomplished. He worked hard to finish university and found a relatively high-paying job, making him a typical middle-class person.

Because he had to pay for his mother's medical treatment and medicine, and also support his and his sister's education in good schools, they had always lived a very tight life.

But marrying a middle-class man like her father was considered marrying down in the eyes of that family.

At the last gathering, his cousin Vincent gave him a brass pendant.

The residual supernatural power sealed within the ornament caused the person to suffer from a persistent high fever, ultimately leading to their death.

Did Vincent know that there was something wrong with that thing? That question remains unanswered to this day.

Now, just a month after the last gathering, his maternal grandfather has specifically asked to see him again.

The time interval is too short.

A normal family gathering is considered quite rare, perhaps once a year.

Sending two invitations in such a short time, and even handwriting "I especially hope to meet my eldest son" at the end of the letter, is probably not just a polite gesture.

He boldly speculated that the Ashford family might have connections to the mystical side.

This speculation is not unfounded.

A prominent family in the capital city, with members who possessed ancient artifacts that contained supernatural powers, and who then gave them away as gifts.

Moreover, after Richard recovered from his serious illness, his maternal grandfather wanted to see him immediately.

The mother's reaction after receiving the letter also suggests that she probably knew something.

Richard went to the kitchen and removed the kettle, which was half-boiled dry, from the stove.

The steam dissipated, and the kitchen became quiet.

He made a cup of tea for his mother and brought it out, and then poured a cup for his father.

His mother took the teacup and ran her fingers over his fingertips.

"Richard," she whispered her son's name.

"Um?"

"Don't wander off when you get there."

When his mother said this, she didn't look at him; instead, she stared at the gray sky outside the window.

"understood."

Dinner was the same as usual: soup, bread, and a dish of pickled cucumbers.

The father ate silently, while the mother occasionally exchanged a few words with Evelyn about household chores.

The Ashford family's letter was never mentioned again; it lay on the living room coffee table, weighed down by an empty teacup.

After dinner, Richard went upstairs, closed the door, drew the curtains, and opened the window a crack.

But today he didn't rush to flip through the book or decipher the code.

He sat in the chair for a long time, sorting out the information in his mind.

Family dinner on the 15th of next month.

This weekend is over, and next week will be the last week of the month, so there are about twenty days left from now until that day.

What can he do in just over three weeks?

[Breathing] Based on the current progress of my cultivation, the chances of reaching Lv.3 are slim.

Furthermore, the healing effect of Lv.3 is merely "wherever the energy flows, the body undergoes minor self-repair, and chronic illnesses gradually subside."

He's more than capable of dealing with everyday ailments, but he's unsure if he'll be able to use it when facing a real threat.

[Knowledge] He has just reached Lv.2, and it is not realistic for him to level up again within three weeks, but he can absorb as much mystical knowledge as possible during this period.

The more you know, the more accurate your judgment, and the less likely you are to be led by the nose in unfamiliar environments.

The Cicero Cup is held about a week after the family dinner, leaving about a month to go.

The timing doesn't conflict with the family dinner; the two events can proceed in parallel.

Moreover, the prize money is his most realistic source of income right now: he can use the money to buy lights, earn points, and invest in his skills.

Richard lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and began his breathing exercise for the day.

Inhale, and let the ether flow into your chest along with your breath.

Hold your breath, anchor your attention to the Sun constellation, and visualize the stream of light converging into a point.

The warmth emanated from behind my sternum, more clearly than it had a few days ago, with more distinct boundaries.

The warmth had not completely subsided.

He could feel the lingering warmth throughout his four breaths.

That was the signal that ether was beginning to accumulate in the body, the first ray of dawn from the inner sun.

The first milestone is almost here.