I loaded the Mysticism panel.

During the third period in the afternoon, Richard bypassed the holly hedge and, as usual, went to the abandoned house behind the main building.

The door to the abandoned house was closed, with a sliver of light shining through from under the door.

Richard knocked on the door in the agreed-upon rhythm: two short knocks followed by one long one.

There was a soft click of the door being locked from the inside, and it opened a crack.

Lillian stood behind the door.

Richard glanced at the table behind her.

The first titmouse she ever made was soaking in the jar.

The one with its head slightly tilted to one side, standing on a withered branch, was listening to something.

She took the jar out of the wooden box in the corner and placed it in the center of the table.

"You today..."

"I've brought it out." Lillian closed the door.

Her tone was colder than usual, so cold that Richard sensed something was wrong.

"Why did you bring him out?"

"I want to take it home."

Richard remained silent.

He sat down in the chair first.

Lillian walked around to the other side of the table, stretched out her finger, and gently touched the titmouse inside the jar through the glass.

"...I might have to go," the girl said.

Richard frowned: "Where to?"

"I'm going back to the capital with my uncle, and we'll stay there for a while."

"……Then what?"

"Then we'll see."

"So, are you going to take the college entrance exam?" He asked the question he most wanted to ask.

"...Richard."

Lillian looked up at him.

"Which university do you think a girl living with her uncle, whose mother lives in a nursing home, and who has no family assets could possibly apply to?"

Richard opened his mouth.

It's impossible to get into those top universities in Beijing; they all require recommendation letters.

Edinburgh? Or those old colleges in the north?

Even these schools each require a considerable amount of tuition fees.

According to what Lillian had mentioned in a casual conversation, her uncle had two other children.

The two children were three years older than her and two years younger than her.

"you……"

Lillian finished the sentence for him.

"I don't want my uncle to have to look at my aunt first and then at me every time he wants to get money."

"My mother's side of the business is my own."

"I'll figure out the cost of the sanatorium myself."

"...What method are you thinking of?"

The girl looked down at the titmouse in the glass jar.

"...I have a foundation."

She spoke very softly, almost as if she were speaking to the titmouse.

"I have read those twenty-six books."

"I stopped reading because I hadn't figured out what to do after finishing reading it."

"I've thought it through now."

"...What?"

"Those patients in the sanatorium, there are people on the mystical side who can treat them."

Richard's breathing slowed down.

"Who can cure this?"

I can't tell you.

Richard stared at her.

The girl lowered her head even further.

"...Richard, aren't you doing things you can't tell me too?"

Richard's lips moved slightly, then closed again.

"Have you ever heard the word 'abyss'?" the girl suddenly asked.

Richard's nerves immediately tightened.

"Of course I've heard of it, but don't touch it."

Why?

"Because you can't afford the price."

Lillian looked up.

The girl's grey-blue eyes gleamed faintly in the lamplight.

How do you know I can't afford it?

"..."

How do you know that everyone has to pay the same price?

Richard was speechless for a moment.

He wanted to refute, but couldn't find any words to say.

The book "Secrets of the Abyss" uses three different narrative styles, all of which depict the price that is "unaffordable".

The child who "breathes fast," the hunter who thinks the axe is too slow to descend, the taciturnists, and the burnt offerings.

Those three costs are written for "people who want to do things".

This is written for someone who wants to gain power, someone who wants to change the world.

But it wasn't written for "a girl who wanted to keep her mother."

She was already standing at the edge of the curtain, and didn't even need anyone to "seduce" her.

She glanced down and understood.

Richard was sitting on the right half of that table. What could he possibly say?

"Lillian, don't rush into a decision."

"...I'm not in a hurry."

"After you and your uncle return to the capital, give yourself some time to think it over."

"it is good."

She answered very readily.

Richard knew in his heart that the faster she agreed, the less seriously she took it.

She has made up her mind.

The girl turned her gaze back to the titmouse in the glass jar.

She picked up the glass jar and held it to her chest.

"I'll take this one back with me, and leave the rest here for you."

"Give me?"

"Yes, they're in the wooden crates."

Lillian hugged the titmouse even tighter:

"The recipe is on the bottom sheet of paper."

"Three parts naphtha, one part lime water; for birds with a lot of oil, distilled water should be added to dilute it."

"If you ever come across a dead bird in the future, you can make one for me, just one."

Richard stood next to the girl, his throat feeling tight.

"...I might not do a good job."

"It's okay."

Lillian smiled.

"Even if you were the one who messed it up, it was still you who did it."

The girl hugged the glass jar and walked out of the hut.

Richard followed behind her.

When they reached the fork in the gravel path, Lillian stopped and looked back at him.

Richard extended his hand.

"goodbye."

"goodbye."

Hands clasped together, then separated at the slightest touch.

………………

The last day before the Easter holiday.

After the third period in the afternoon, the whole school was dismissed at Greenwood.

The road near the school gate is two to three times more congested than usual.

Richard stood under the old elm tree at the school gate.

The elm tree's new buds have just sprouted, a tender green, as if they've been dotted with a paintbrush.

When Xiu came to say goodbye, he took the sketchbook out of his bag.

"Let me show you."

"Um?"

Don't turn to the last page of the sketchbook.

The last page depicts a table full of people.

Grey was in the very center of the table, holding a dinner knife;

Warren was on the right side of the table, holding a double-entry book in his hand;

On the left side of the table is Mason, wearing a foreman's hat with a crooked drawing;

At the far end of the table was Hugh himself, with a chicken wearing a baseball cap perched on his shoulder;

There's a drawing of a person on the side of the table closest to this side.

That person was only depicted from behind.

"...What is this?" Richard asked.

"This is you."

Why only a view of their backs?

I can't draw your face.

"Um?"

"You look different every day lately."

Xiu smiled.

"I drew it several times, but it still doesn't look right."

"If it doesn't look right, then I can only draw the back view. At least the back view won't be drawn wrong."

Richard took the sketchbook and returned it to Hugh.

"It's very well drawn."

When school was over, the rain started to pour again.

At the school gate, one by one, the school buses started up, their engines belching black smoke.

Richard walked to the school bus stop with his umbrella.

Grey was standing on the opposite side.

She was holding a dark blue umbrella, and logically she should have turned left after exiting the school gate.

Her family's car was parked over there, and the driver would come to pick her up on time every day.

But today she came towards Richard's side.

Several students at the school bus stop were very perceptive and gave up their seats.

Richard.

"Grey".

She stood beside Richard, the tip of her umbrella pointing outwards, drawing the rainwater outside.

"You're going to university in Beijing?"

"Yes," Richard replied, "Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I'll be starting school in the fall."

Which one?

"Teito University."

"...The Department of Classics?"

"Yes, my aunt teaches there."

Grey nodded.

She lowered her eyes and looked at the tips of her shoes.

There were still a few students at the school bus stop, and the rain was pattering against the roof.

Grey stretched out her other hand from under the umbrella, holding a small paper package wrapped in brown paper.

She handed over the paper package.

"This is the last time."

Richard paused for a moment.

"...What do you mean, the last time?"

"The last time I baked in Briston."

Grey's voice was muffled by the sound of the rain.

"I'm going to the capital city too, to attend an all-girls school there."

Richard took the paper package from her hand.

The paper package was still warm.

The aroma of scones seeped through the kraft paper, carrying the scents of butter and fine sugar.

There's also a tiny bit of cardamom, a spice that Grey imports from the East.

Raindrops fell on the kraft paper, blurring into several small dots.

Grey turned her head to look at the boy in front of her: "I'll be leaving at the end of April."

"My family hired a private tutor in Beijing for me to catch up on lessons for a few months before I officially enroll in school."

As she said this, the rain suddenly intensified.

"Well..." Richard carefully put the paper package into his bag, "Will I still be able to get your baked scones in the capital?"

Grey's blue eyes looked at him through the shade of the umbrella, and the corners of her lips turned up.

"We'll see how you perform then."

Richard wanted to say something, but the girl had already turned away.

"The school bus is here." She didn't even turn her head.

She walked to the left side of the school gate, holding the dark blue umbrella; her family's car was already parked there.

The umbrella receded further and further into the gray rain, its deep blue color darkened by the rain, eventually becoming a blurry little dot.

Richard stood at the station for a while.

He was still in a daze when the school bus pulled into the station.

Hugh poked his head out of the car: "Are you getting in or not?"

"superior."

Richard got into the car and found a window seat.

The schoolbag rested on my lap, and the warmth inside the paper bag seeped through the canvas.

The car started, and the windshield wipers swept back and forth across the windshield.

He glanced out the window; the Grey family's car had already driven away.

When he got home, Richard first washed his face.

Evelyn had set up a table in the living room.

There was a new, still-warm gingerbread rabbit on the table.

The rabbit is wearing a small top hat drawn with icing on its head.

"My new research," Evelyn said proudly, "Sir Rabbit has been promoted; he's now Professor Rabbit."

"...Why a professor?"

"Because it's going to get into Beijing University."

Evelyn pushed the rabbit professor in front of her brother.