I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 250 The Kitchen Woman's Transformation

In the following period, we attended several more classes on folk customs.

Croft did not follow the traditional school format when lecturing.

He did not establish an outline or set up categories.

They talk about one thing today and another thing tomorrow.

What he teaches depends entirely on the order in which he keeps track of his past mistakes.

After "Changing Lives," he told the story of the bride in the mirror.

She lives inside the mirror of an old-fashioned dressing mirror.

They specifically targeted girls who were about to get married.

Before getting married, a bride always has to repeatedly do her makeup in front of the mirror.

So, she could take advantage of this time to gradually internalize the idea that the bride was going to "get married".

On her wedding day, she will walk out of the mirror.

As for the original bride, she will remain in the mirror.

Someone asked, "Is there a way to tell the difference?"

"It's very simple, the old method will do."

Croft: "Place a shallow dish of water on the bride's dressing table, and then place a piece of wrought iron around the edge of the dish."

Then someone asked, "Why wrought iron?"

"Because the bride in the mirror can't touch the wrought iron."

After telling this story, Croft then told a very old story about Zhenni and the Imperial garrison on the south coast.

Legend has it that two hundred years ago, a small team was sent to a desert post station in the Mediterranean.

The entire team, along with their camels, vanished from the sand overnight.

Two weeks later, the team reappeared in full force and returned.

Not a single hair was missing.

But for more than a decade after that, it continued.

Each of the seven soldiers was accompanied by an unseen comrade.

"This is called a 'companion spirit,' and you should distinguish it from a 'life-changing spirit.'"

Croft wrote the word on the blackboard as he spoke:

"The difference between them and the creatures that have been replaced is that they don't harm people; they just stay by your side."

Some people joked, "Isn't that great?"

Croft glanced at him. "Really? But those seven soldiers all died later."

The man shrank his neck.

Croft put down the chalk: "But it dies very slowly. The companion spirit doesn't harm people, but once it sticks to a living person, it stays there forever."

After being attached, they will absorb the "tones" of living people. Once the tone is exhausted, it will be replaced with a tone that does not belong to humans.

Once the transformation is complete, the physical body can no longer support it, and naturally, death ensues.

Richard listened to everything he said from beginning to end.

In his mind, he categorized these things into one group.

The Bride in the Mirror, the Companion Spirit, the Replaced Spirit...

Although the methods are different, the core is the same.

That is, the right to define.

"My child," "My bride," "My companion"...

They don't recognize faces, they only recognize titles.

Croft spent the next few lessons discussing these topics.

Every single story is a frightening ghost story told by an old woman in the eyes of ordinary people.

And these ghost stories have been passed down for hundreds of years.

There's a kind of "evil eye" in fishing villages along the Mediterranean coast.

The evil eye specifically targets those who have good fortune at the docks.

Those who made a fortune nearby, those who just had their first child, those who had just finalized a business deal...

These people all have to wear a piece of red coral with a hole in their collar, otherwise those unseen "evil eyes" will suck away their good luck.

Near the Spice Islands, there is also a group of creatures called "Noble Corpse Spirits".

They were hidden under sacks of cardamom and cinnamon, drifting across the sea with the ship.

As soon as the boat docks, it sneaks into the spice shops in the city and targets the most discerning cooks when it comes to spices.

When the cook simmered a pot of strangely flavored soup, the whole family drank it.

It began to undergo a bone regeneration process.

On the east coast of the New World, "Longfinger" waits in the town's tavern, selecting men who are drunk and wandering home alone in the dark.

The flying ghosts from the islands of the South China Sea will seek out women who have lost blood after childbirth and have not recovered properly.

Anyone who gets targeted will never have a peaceful life.

After telling many stories, Croft stopped talking and took out a neatly copied sheet of paper from under the podium.

"This is your homework for today."

The papers were placed in front, one for each person, and passed down to the next.

Richard picked it up and took a look.

It's a children's song.

The handwriting was neatly copied with a fountain pen.

The collection location was also indicated under the title.

A small town in the northern part of Albion Island.

The samples were collected decades ago.

The lyrics are short, only twelve lines long.

Little baby, close your eyes, I'm singing by your bedside.

The lights are off, the door is closed, go and have a good dream.

Sweetie, be good, someone is calling you in the night.

Don't answer, don't answer, Mom is still making tea.

Little darling, remember clearly, it's not me, it's me.

A gentle breeze was blowing outside the window, and Mom's hands felt cool.

My little one, keep dreaming. I'll come and wake you when it's light.

After Richard finished reading it, he felt that it looked somewhat familiar.

It was similar in spirit to the taboo song I had read while I was in the well.

After Croft and everyone else finished reading it, they said, "The literal meaning of this song is something that anyone who can read knows."

Something will impersonate your mother at night and call your name, but don't answer.

Even a three-year-old in the countryside would be frightened by this implication.

He paused, then continued, "But what I want you to see is not this layer of things."

You must let me know how much meaning you have gleaned from these eight sentences.

That is, those meanings that aren't explicitly stated.

Croft waved his hand: "Leave it to me this Friday."

…………

Imperial University assigns single rooms to recommended students.

Back in his dorm, Richard placed the homework sheet on the table.

Before he began, he deliberately placed the Sphinx lamp at the very back of the wardrobe.

Try to stay as far away from the table as possible.

Unsigned artifacts are highly sensitive to even the slightest flow of ether around them.

Therefore, they must be separated.

After doing all this, Richard finally sat down at the table.

Looking at the homework, he went through the literal meaning in his mind.

If you hear a voice calling your name at night, don't answer. That's a dirty thing pretending to be your mother.

Most students in the class submit their assignments with roughly the same meaning.

Richard didn't linger on this floor; he spread out his "Extensive Knowledge."

This wasn't the first time he'd encountered this kind of taboo regarding "responding to one's name at midnight."

I've encountered this before, back in the mine.

Although the small town in the north was hundreds of miles away from him.

But the taboos are the same.

However, this is still just the literal meaning.

Richard turned on the sidelight of "Speculation" and searched for the load-bearing beam in these eight sentences.

The second line is "I'm singing by the bedside".

It should be understood that the "I" singing is by the bedside.

The fifth sentence is, "Don't answer, don't answer, Mom is still brewing tea."

Here, "Mom" is brewing tea on the stove.

Richard paused briefly at this point.

Whether it's the "me" singing, or the person by the bedside.

It's still that "mother" who brews tea, on the stove.

This lullaby is sung entirely in a mother's voice.

If the person singing is the mother, why does she call herself "Mom" while also saying that "Mom" is on the stove?

The person is either by the bedside or on the stove.

It's impossible to sing in bed while simultaneously brewing tea on the stove.

Unless the "me" by the bedside and the "mom" in the morning are not the same person.

A chill ran down Richard's spine.

He continued reading.

The sixth inning.

"Little darling, remember clearly, it's not me, it's me."

Most people in the class would interpret this sentence as "The imposter looks just like me".

But Richard was not like that.

His gaze, passing through the assignment, fell upon the "right to define".

"It's not just me, it's also me..."

"Not me" means referring to its origin.

She wasn't your mother originally.

"It's also me" refers to my official status.

If you call it "Mom," it will become your mother.

Richard wrote down his interpretation.

They all used the language of the Folklore Academy.

Logically speaking, this is enough.

This already meets the assessment standards for folklore courses.

If we were to continue writing, that would be a professional model for the mystical side.

Or it could be something that can't be written on the homework sheet.

Richard put down his pen and leaned back in his chair.

The evening breeze rustled the leaves of the sycamore trees.

…………

On Friday morning, all the students handed in their homework.

A thick stack of manuscript paper lay on the podium.

Croft started reading from the top one.

Each one takes about half a minute to read. Once you're done, put it on the right and move on to the next one.

He didn't comment, he just read through them one after another.

He stopped when he was about halfway through, looked up, and placed his right hand on the page he had already read:

"Let me start with these points."

The stack on the right is two-thirds of the total.

"The assignments you all submitted are basically the same."

It simply means that this is a sermon, and that at night there are seductive voices pretending to be the mother, which should not be answered.

That makes sense.

Several people in the class breathed a sigh of relief.

"but."

Croft then changed the subject: "I told you this from the very beginning."

The literal meaning of this song is so clear that even a three-year-old could understand it after hearing it.

And what you've submitted is exactly what a three-year-old would say after hearing that!

Croft's lips curled into a sneer: "Not a word more, not a word less..."

It said, "Wait until dawn to respond," and you believed it would respond at dawn.

You're not reading it, you're listening to it.

The students who had just breathed a sigh of relief immediately tensed up again.

Richard secretly shook his head.

The work of scholars has never been reading calligraphy and paintings.

Croft flipped through the right side and found an assignment.

"Phillips".

He frowned and called out names.

Phillips slowly stood up.

"You're the most efficient person among these people."

Croft turned the manuscript over and showed it to the whole class.

Of course, there weren't many words on it.

"This is a lullaby to soothe a child to sleep, encouraging them to go to bed early at night and not to respond to noises outside the window to avoid catching a cold."

Croft slammed the manuscript on the table: "Others will still be able to tell that this is filthy."

You're good at it all, you even skipped the dirty stuff.

You're full of Ovid, and your eyes light up when you read The Metamorphosis.

But when it comes to serious work, you can't even be bothered to glance at the words "someone is calling in the middle of the night".

Mr. Phillips, are you here for training or to retire?

"Yes……"

Phillips sat back down: "But at least what I wrote is true, and my mom always tells me to go to bed early..."

Someone in the classroom couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Croft pushed all the things on his right aside.

The remaining amount is less than ten percent.

"These at least dig a little deeper into the literal meaning."

He picked and chose, until only three portions remained, then picked up the top one:

"Montagu".

The blond youth stood up, his posture composed.

"This is yours..."

Croft unfolded the manuscript: "I can't find any fault with it."

You recognized "The Kitchen Woman's Transformation" too, and you can even tell me from which sentence you read it.

The mother tucking the blanket in had warm hands in the front and cold hands in the back.

A mother who keeps hands warm is a real mother; a mother who keeps hands cold is a fake.

Then...you went on to clarify the whole thing, making sure not to answer at night, staying up until dawn, staying up until that warm hand returned—that's what a true mother does.

"You have everything: wounds, mechanisms, and prevention methods."

Croft put down his manuscript: "It's a standard answer."

Montagu nodded slightly and sat down.

Croft: "Williams".

Richard stood up.

Several students in the class turned their gazes over.

They were curious about what this person, who was constantly singled out and nitpicked by the associate professor, had written.

Croft also elaborated on his manuscript: "Your manuscript is similar to Montagu's; he did it, and so did you."

You even pronounced "warm" and "cool" correctly.

However, you wrote one more paragraph than him, and you said you were called out at dawn, and your hands were cold.

That's right, Richard believes the person who came at night was an imposter.

However, the person who arrives at daybreak is most likely an imposter.

The sounds of the night cannot be answered, nor can the sounds of dawn.

Time is unreliable, voice is unreliable, and so are warm and cold hands.

In the end, nothing could be trusted.

Croft's gaze lingered on Richard for a long time:

"The core of this song is 'No name without verification'."

It's about the right to define, and that's the point of my folklore class, the core message I want to convey to you.

Please sit down.

Croft picked up the last manuscript: "Carter."

Richard glanced back.

It was a girl in the back row wearing simple clothes.

Croft: "On the level of 'keeping one's name,' you and Williams read the same thing."

But you peeled away an extra layer compared to him.

Upon hearing this, Richard was somewhat taken aback.

His version has already pushed the boundaries of what the folklore academy system can say.

After that, it's no longer considered folk custom.

How did Edith peel off another layer?

Croft continued, "The kind of transformation you're talking about, the kind of transformation of the kitchen maid, is not about learning 'motherhood'."

Rather, it's "the first person in the family to get up and boil water."

Seeing the students' confused expressions, he explained in more detail:

"In the countryside, the first person to get up and boil water in the house is usually the woman in charge."

The kitchen maid is borrowing that position, not necessarily the mother.

It could be her grandmother, her sister-in-law, or even her eldest sister.

It recognizes the location, not a particular face.

Carter mentioned in her article that there was a custom in her hometown.

Every year on the first night of spring, the person who gets up first to boil water is replaced.

As for who to replace? Anyone is fine, as long as they are the head of the household.

This rule cannot be found in the guesthouse brochure; it is only passed down among local elders.

The reason for changing it was to make that thing go to the wrong place and be mistaken for the wrong person.

If it mistakes someone for someone else, it naturally won't be able to call any of the children in the family by their names correctly.

At this point, Richard understood.

What he read was "keeping one's name".

The right to name something should be in your own hands.

Names will not be granted unless verified.

Edith, however, approaches the issue from a different perspective.

The kitchen maid has changed to guarding a position.

The country folk's way of dealing with it is to replace it with someone else.

Even if Richard thoroughly examined the case file, he would never have been able to decipher this detail.

Because this belongs to Edith, not to the book.

She grew up to be sixteen in a house where water was boiled in the middle of the night and the staff were replaced in the spring.

Croft closed his manuscript, his gaze lingering on the girl in the back row for a long time.

But he didn't say anything.

The bell rang, signaling the end of get out of class.

Students began to leave the classroom one after another.

As Richard was about to leave, he glanced back at Croft.

He was still standing behind the podium, holding Edith's manuscript in his hands, slowly flipping through it.