I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 240 The Grand Exhibition of the Black Soil River

The weather cleared up in Briston on the day of departure.

The platform at Central Station was packed with people.

Richard and his family of four stood under the iron pillar at the end of platform three.

Evelyn was holding a food box, which contained the food she had baked overnight.

"Eat it on the way." She stuffed the food box into her brother's arms.

"Gingerbread can last for five days. I baked two 'Professor Rabbit' cookies, and the rest are regular cookies."

"Can I finish this all by myself?"

"If you can't finish it, share it with the people in your carriage," Evelyn said earnestly.

"Don't waste any. I didn't put the burnt one in; I'll keep it to figure out why it failed."

His mother, Margaret, moved a suitcase closer to his feet.

"Keep your change of clothes at the bottom. I've wrapped the suit your maternal grandfather ordered with cotton paper so it won't get wrinkled when we get to the capital."

"Okay, Mom."

Father Rogers was unusually absent from the factory today.

He stood to the side, saying very little.

Just before they got to the ticket check, he patted Richard hard on the shoulder.

"Do your best on the exam when you get there."

"Um."

"It's okay if you don't pass the exam." Rogers withdrew his hand.

"The door to our home will always be open for you."

I will pass the exam.

"Um."

The whistle sounded.

Richard picked up his suitcase and followed the flow of people checking tickets inside.

After taking a few steps, he turned back.

Evelyn stood on tiptoe and waved to him, her mother standing next to her sister.

The father was at the end, his figure somewhat hunched.

………………

Richard found the carriage, put his suitcase in the luggage rack, and sat down by the window.

He bought a second-class seat.

In fact, he had enough money in his pocket to buy a first-class seat.

Tutoring fees, field work subsidies, and income from selling techniques—the accumulated income from these sources is no longer what it was last year.

But he still bought a second-class seat.

Save the money, spend it.

Unless someone is willing to reimburse him, he probably won't choose to sit in first class anymore.

Richard took out the book "Divination and Vision: From Beginner to Expert" and slowly opened it.

The train swayed and rattled as it pulled out of the station, the tracks clanging and clattering beneath its wheels.

When discussing "the convergence of inspiration during long journeys," the main text is written in a neat and orderly manner, but a line of penmanship is squeezed into the margin.

"Don't do fortune telling on the train; there are more dead people under the tracks than you think."

Every time a section of railway is built, several people have to be buried inside.

The train carriage you're sitting in is rolling over a long row of unmarked graves.

Richard's hand stopped on the page.

[博闻] saved this annotation carefully.

Richard closed the book and did not read it again.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to rest.

The casual conversations in the carriage drifted into his ears intermittently.

Two middle-aged men sat opposite me, one wearing a top hat and the other carrying a briefcase.

"...The situation in Haimers is chaotic again."

"That's what the man with the briefcase said."

"I read in the newspaper that it was a border dispute between several small states."

"Friction?" The man in the top hat turned a page of the newspaper.

"My cousin, who works in foreign trade, said that the price of weapons shipped over there has tripled in the last six months."

"three times?"

"Hmm, I heard that several large banks are secretly investing in military factories, in Germania..."

"Shh." The man in the top hat lowered his voice: "Don't say things like that in the car."

Neither of them said a word.

Richard opened his eyes.

The newspaper only published the surface.

Colonial interests, Germania's late rise, and centuries-old grievances between France and Albion.

The deeper part is hidden behind the curtain.

The man in the top hat turned to the front page of the newspaper.

Richard's gaze fell on the bold headline on the front page.

He sat up straight.

That headline took up almost half the front page.

The largest collection of Pharaonic artifacts in history has arrived in the capital, and the "Black Earth River Exhibition" at the Albion Museum will officially open next month.

The man in the top hat followed his gaze and tilted the newspaper toward him.

"Is the young man also interested in this?"

"...Just browsing," Richard replied casually. "I heard they brought back quite a bit of stuff."

"More than a lot," the man in the top hat said, intrigued.

"The newspaper said that more than a dozen boats were loaded onto the ship and transported all the way from the mouth of the Heitu River to the capital's dock."

A bronze altar, funerary bronze artifacts, jade figurines… the most precious item is a remarkably well-preserved priest's scepter, said to have been unearthed from a thousand-year-old tomb.

Richard mentally matched each of these items with another list.

Prometheus presented this intelligence at the second meeting of the Theogony Salon.

Prometheus added that the scepter was a superior artifact, stored in the innermost sealed warehouse of the Imperial Museum.

The "Black Soil River Grand Exhibition" on the front page of the newspaper should be the same batch of strange items in the sealed warehouse.

In the physical world, these are artifacts from the Pharaonic era that citizens can visit by purchasing tickets.

Behind the curtain, they were a warehouse full of valuable and unusual items.

The one in the top hat is still talking.

"...I plan to take my son to see it and broaden his horizons."

"We should go and take a look," Richard agreed.

"Is the young man going to study in the capital?"

"Yes, go take the college entrance exam."

Which one?

"Teito University."

The man in the top hat put down his newspaper, looked Richard over again, and was filled with respect.

"Imperial Capital University... It's remarkable; it's a place that produces great people."

Richard smiled but didn't reply.

The train headed south, and the scenery outside the window gradually changed from the black smoke from chimneys of industrial cities to fields and hills.

Unfortunately, the dog from last time isn't here.

Richard opened the food box, took out a gingerbread rabbit wearing a sugar-frosted top hat, and took a bite.

The spiciness of ginger, the sweetness of sugar, and the aroma of butter melt in your mouth.

"This... was it homemade?" The man with the briefcase leaned over.

My sister baked it.

"It looks quite unique."

Richard ate silently, not thinking of sharing with the two of them; he couldn't bear to part with it.

"Of course, my sister's hands are the second most skillful in the world."

"Who is the first to be clever?" the man in the top hat asked curiously.

"That must be my mom."

The train arrived in the capital in the afternoon.

Richard, carrying his suitcase, followed the flow of people out of the station.

When we came here last year, the whole family of four got off at the station.

My father picked the cheapest carriage from the row of carriages waiting for passengers outside the station, and after haggling over the price for a long time, he finally got on.

This year was different. As soon as Richard stepped out of the ticket gate, a person in a dark uniform came up to him.

"Young Master Richard?"

Richard recognized the man; he was Ashford's coachman.

"it's me."

"My master instructed me to fetch you." The coachman reached for his suitcase: "The carriage is parked outside."

The coachman led the way, guiding him all the way to the front of the row of carriages outside the station.

A black four-wheeled carriage was parked there.

The car body was painted jet black and glossy, without a speck of dust on it.

The wooden doors of the carriage are engraved with the family crest of an oak tree and a standing lion, and two chestnut horses are tied to the shafts, their coats glossy and smooth.

This is a completely different vehicle from the small Hansom that my father picked out last year.

The driver put the suitcase in the luggage compartment, walked around to the front, and opened the carriage door.

"Please, young master."

Richard got into the car.

The moment he stepped onto the pedal, his enhanced senses allowed him to hear whispers behind him.

The two middle-aged men who had just gotten out of the same carriage as him were standing not far away.

The man in the top hat stared wide-eyed at the black four-wheeled carriage.

"Wow," he whispered to his companion, "that guy was actually really rich?"

"Look at this carriage, look at this family crest." The man with the briefcase stared wide-eyed. "A wealthy family indeed."

"But wasn't he in the same carriage as us just now?"

"Second class seat."

"A family like that, traveling in second class?"

The two men looked at each other in bewilderment.

Richard got into the carriage, and the driver closed the door.

Through the car window, he could still see the confusion on the faces of the two men.

The carriage started moving, its wheels making a steady, rumbling sound on the stone pavement.

………………

Ashford House is still the same as it was last year.

An imposing iron gate, a neatly manicured garden, and two pillars on the porch.

As soon as the carriage entered the courtyard, the steward came out to greet it.

When the housekeeper first visited them last year, he could only be polite on the surface.

The butler's attitude only changed after Gerrard confirmed that he had microcirculation in his body.

My attitude has changed again this year.

As soon as Richard stepped off the carriage, the steward came forward and bowed slightly.

"Young Master Richard, you must be tired from your journey."

"Mr. Butler."

"Master is waiting for you in the study. Please rest for a while and have a cup of tea."

As soon as I sat down, a maid brought me a cup of tea.

Compensation is never something that comes out of thin air.

After resting for a while, the butler came to invite him to the study.

Gerald Ashford was still sitting behind that huge desk.

My maternal grandfather has aged a bit more since last year; his hair is whiter, but his eyes are still just as sharp.

"They're here."

"Grandfather," Richard bowed.

"sit."

Richard sat down.

Gerald didn't speak at first, he just looked at him.

After watching for a while, he raised one hand.

"Same as always, extend it here."

Richard knew what he was going to do and reached out his hand.

Gerald's ether seeped through the point of contact.

This time, Richard didn't experience the same suffocating feeling of being gripped like he did last year.

The etheric microcirculation within his body is no longer the rudimentary form that was easily disrupted at the slightest touch last year.

The Sun Constellation was operating steadily, and the roots of the inverted tree of light directly behind the sternum were deeply embedded.

Gerald withdrew his ether: "It's surprisingly stable."

He pulled his hand back onto the table.

"How long has it been? In just over half a year, you've gone from an unstable newcomer to someone who's almost ready to sign their name."

Richard did not respond.

Half of this "stability" comes from the support of skills such as breathing, eating, and sleeping.

The other half is the result of his own hard work and dedication.

"Your great-grandmother often said something to me when she was alive."

Gerrard suddenly changed the subject:

She said the Ashford family's lampstand was already on the decline.

Richard listened quietly.

His mother, Margaret, had told him about the Ashford family's situation.

"I've been hoping for another person in my family to be able to hold up the family name for decades, but that hasn't happened."

Gerald's voice lowered.

"Vincent is a hard worker, but his talent is average. Whether he can reach the level of minor proficiency in this lifetime depends on luck."

Isabella was very academically accomplished, but she was always unwilling to get married.

Unless one can achieve mastery, they won't be able to support the family.

Gerald looked at him and slowly nodded.

"Alright, you must be tired from the journey. Go back to your room and rest."

The butler led Richard to the guest room.

The room I stayed in last year was already luxurious enough.

This year, it was upgraded to the next level.

The room was larger, with a dedicated desk by the window, fully equipped with stationery.

A silver table lamp sits on the bedside table.

The bookshelf was neatly stacked with several rows of books, all of them Latin and ancient Greek originals, as well as a dozen or so textbooks from the Department of Classics at Imperial University.

"These books were placed here at Miss Isabella's request."

The housekeeper explained, "She said the young master needs to prepare for his exams, and staying here will make it convenient for him to study."

Richard felt a warmth in his heart.

His aunt had even prepared the books he needed for his exams in advance.

The butler left and closed the door behind him.

Richard opened his suitcase and began unpacking.

Tomorrow morning, he's going to Beijing University to visit his aunt.