I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The next day, Richard had just sat down in the classroom when Catherine came over.

She yawned all day in class, and the dark circles under her eyes were even more pronounced than yesterday.

"for you."

The girl put the roll of stuff she was holding on the table.

It was a handwritten copy, neatly folded, with the ink still wet at the corners.

Richard unfolded it and took a look.

The surface is covered with densely packed inscriptions, and each group is annotated with its interpretation and usage in tiny Latin letters.

Turning the page reveals several ancient Celtic incantations, along with a complete set of ritual steps.

The dual structure, the double-sided writing of the true name, the recurring cycles of "seven forward, three backward, then one forward" in rituals...

The weak points north of the front-line high ground were gradually "hidden" and exposed; these kinds of things are hard to buy even if you have money.

"Why are you giving me this?" Richard looked up.

"Professor McFee gave it to me yesterday," Catherine said quickly.

"The interpretation of the inscriptions on branches near the ancient battlefield, standing stones, and sacred well on the north side of the highlands... as well as several incantations and ritual cases."

It turns out that Professor McFee called her away from the editing group yesterday and gave her this.

The scroll in Catherine's hand... is probably the professor's personal possession.

Richard suddenly recalled the Q&A session in the auditorium during his training.

Professor McFee did say that it wasn't easy for Highlanders to live away from home, and that they should come to him if they needed anything.

In retrospect, that wasn't just a polite remark.

The Highlanders were a marginalized group within the Empire.

It is extremely rare for a girl to be able to enter this prestigious university step by step on her own.

Professor McFee probably genuinely wanted to help Catherine.

"Catherine." Richard pushed the roll of parchment toward her.

"I can't accept this."

"Why?" Catherine's face stiffened.

"This is from the professor," Richard said, looking at her.

"Things from the highlands should be given to the highlands; it's not right for me to keep them."

Catherine's gaze lingered on the rolled parchment for a long time.

"...Originally, I didn't move," she whispered.

"original?"

"I've kept the original the professor gave me," Catherine explained.

"This volume is what I copied myself last night."

Richard then realized what was happening.

Only lecturers and above can use the copier in the department; students can only copy the text themselves.

The red-haired girl's brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were struggling with something.

"If you don't accept it, I'll feel uneasy about the debt."

The mask was gnawing at her.

Even if she owes someone a small favor, it's still a kind of imbalance where "the debt isn't settled," forcing her to repay it.

Even if it's very awkward to go back and forth like this, it's unnecessary.

Richard slowly put the roll of parchment away.

"...Thanks."

Catherine nodded and let out a long sigh of relief.

She turned to leave.

"Catherine," Richard called out to her.

The red-haired girl turned around.

Richard looked at her, wanting to say something.

But the words stuck in his throat.

Mention that mask? Mention that line, "You are being devoured by that name"?

No matter how you put it, it's not appropriate.

Catherine was looking at him too.

"...I didn't want it to be like this either."

She added in a low voice.

"Don't treat me to meat pies anymore," Richard suddenly said.

"Why?" Catherine was taken aback.

"If you feel indebted to me, just treat me to a big meal and that will be the end of it."

Richard sighed, "You have to pay back the money one meat pie at a time, and you still have to work through the night to make up for the debt."

Catherine stared at him for two seconds.

"...A meal can't make up for the favor I owe you."

………………

As the second weekend of September ended, a new course appeared on the preparatory students' schedules: Inscription Studies - The Alexandrian School.

The lecturer's name is Isabella Ashford; my aunt is back.

Richard was about to go, but he needed his aunt's help with too many things.

It's a bit unreasonable to show up empty-handed.

As it happened, Grey had mentioned it when she was on the phone with him.

The most popular pastry shop in Beijing is "Baihua Pastry Workshop" on St. James Street.

But she also said that once the war started, the supply of pastries became difficult.

Before leaving, Richard made a phone call back to Briston.

After a long wait, my mother's voice finally came through.

"Feed?" Margaret's voice was chilling, tinged by the electric current. "Is that Richard?"

"It's me, Mom."

"What happened?" That was the first thing her mother asked.

"It's nothing." Richard smiled.

"I'm going to visit my aunt and bring her some food."

But I don't know what flavors she likes to eat, so I'm asking you.

Upon hearing this, Margaret chuckled softly.

"Your aunt... she likes other things too, but her favorite is still that sickeningly sweet toffee."

"Toffee?"

"Iris toffee," the mother said with certainty. "When she was little, she would get scolded by your grandfather for this."

Richard became interested. "What did Grandpa say?"

"She was only eleven or twelve years old at the time..."

The mother's voice carried a warmth reminiscent of bygone days:

I secretly saved up my allowance to buy iris toffee, and hid a whole jar under my pillow to eat it one piece at a time.

Your grandfather once found it; it was a whole jar.

When her father asked her where she came from, she stubbornly said she didn't know.

He still had one in his mouth, his cheeks puffed out, and candy crumbs stuck to his front teeth.

Richard was amused.

"If you buy it for her, she'll definitely be happy," the mother added.

"But she'll definitely talk back to you and complain that you're wasting money."

She's the kind of person who never openly expresses what she likes.

"I see."

"Have you been busy lately?" the mother asked softly.

"Busy," Richard replied lightly. "Lots of work in the department."

The mother didn't ask any further questions.

"Tell her for me... It's getting cold, remind her to eat on time, and not to take advantage of her youth to overwork herself."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Richard took a bus to the store on St. James Street, where there was a long line outside.

He stood at the back of the line and slowly moved forward.

The group consisted mostly of ladies and young women, with a few older gentlemen as well.

The lady in front of me was haggling with the shop assistant.

"Last time it was almond cookies for seven pence, how come the price has increased to one shilling?"

"Madam, the sugar price has gone up." The female shop assistant said with a smile.

"White sugar is now sold by weight, and only a limited amount arrives each day."

"We've already added half beet sugar to this batch."

The lady muttered a couple of things, but in the end she still bought it.

Richard listened and knew that the sea routes were now tight, sugar could not be transported in, and the price of sugar was changing every day.

Snacks that were once taken for granted have now become precious items.

When it was his turn, most of the glass covers under the counter were already empty.

"Do you still have Iris brand toffee?"

The female shop assistant's eyes lit up.

"Sir, you have a good eye." She pulled out a gilded iron box from under the counter.

"These are the last two boxes, with imported sugar cores. This stuff has been out of stock for a long time now."

"I want both boxes," Richard said.

He picked out a few more items to match, and the female shop assistant packed them up for him one by one.

Richard paid the money.

Two boxes of toffee and several freshly made pastries cost him a total of three shillings.

Before the war, this amount of money could have bought a whole lot of things, and the variety would have been much more complete.

He picked up the paper bag and walked out of the store.

Just as I arrived at the door, I ran into an acquaintance.

It was a girl, dressed simply, carrying a paper bag in her hand.

"...Williams?"

Richard recognized him.

"Edith, are you here to buy some snacks too?"

"Hmm." Edith lifted the paper bag upwards.

"I plan to send it back to my hometown so my family can try it."

She explained, her voice very soft.

"My younger siblings have never tasted Beijing's pastries."

"I saved up some money to buy a box and send it back so they can try something new too."

Richard nodded.

A light drizzle began to fall, and the two quickly stood under the eaves.

"You've been very busy lately, haven't you?" Edith asked.

"good."

"I heard... you joined that editing group."

"Yes."

An indescribable emotion surfaced in Edith's quiet eyes.

"That project seems to be led by a full professor, and only top students can get into that room."

Richard didn't say much:

"We students also did odd jobs, helping to unpack the seals, copy them, and categorize them."

"Even odd jobs are fine." Edith lowered her head.

"Now I check the most basic rubbings for people in my spare time. Others find it boring and don't want to do it, so they push all the work onto us."

"What book are you reading this time?" Richard changed the subject.

Edith held up the book in her arms: "Illustrated Flora of the Albion Islands".

Richard recognized this book; Lillian used to have a nearly identical one.

"Natural history." Edith's face showed a rare gleam.

"I recognize everything that grows on the mountains back in my hometown."

"Once I arrived in the capital, I felt that the plants and trees were quite different."

The two chatted casually for a few more minutes.

Edith was very careful with the small box of pastries she sent back; she wouldn't spend an extra penny.

Richard listened without saying much.

As she was leaving, Edith held the paper bag to her chest to keep it dry.

"Keep it up, there aren't many of us in this year whose names the professors will remember."

She waved to Richard and quickly blended into the crowd of people coming and going on the street.

………………

Richard arrived at room 314 with the snacks in the evening; the lights were already on.

When he knocked on the door and went in, all three people were inside.

My aunt sat behind the writing desk, while Sofia squatted on the floor packing a large suitcase, and Clara silently handed her things.

As soon as Richard entered, he felt that the house looked even messier than when he visited during the summer vacation.

A huge map has been nailed to the wall.

The map was covered with red lines, marking the positions of the western front.

Mons, the canal, the line retreating south... each place was circled in red.

As Clara closed the drawer, Richard's gaze inadvertently swept over her.

There was a stack of documents in the drawer.

The heading reads "Ministry of the Interior" and "Compilation of Frontline Abnormal Reports".

"They're here." Auntie looked up.

"Hmm." Richard placed the boxes of pastries on the table.

"This is for you."

My aunt's gaze fell on the topmost gilded iron box, on which was a golden iris.

"Wasting money." She put down the red pen.

"Students should save their money for books and materials, not for useless things."

"It didn't cost much money."

"Iris stuff, cheap?" Isabella snorted and pushed the box away.

"Take it back."

Richard opened the box.

Inside, there were compartments filled with things: lemon tarts, almond paste birds, and layers of puff pastry.

And the very middle compartment is overflowing with toffee.

Isabella's gaze lingered on the toffee section.

She lowered her head and picked up the red pen again to draw a line on the manuscript.

"...Did your sister tell you that?"

"Yes." Richard nodded honestly: "Mom said that when you were a child, you were scolded by your maternal grandfather for this."

Upon hearing this, the two female seniors next to him covered their mouths and chuckled.

My aunt slammed the red pen onto the table with a "thud".

"Why does she always say these useless things to you?" Isabella said, somewhat embarrassed and annoyed.

"It's just a jar of sugar, your grandfather is making a mountain out of a molehill."

Isabella glared at the two students, then gave up pretending, unwrapped the candy, and popped it into her mouth.

"What's wrong with a jar of sugar? I was growing back then."

"Don't buy it again."

"Um."

"...I'll take this box."

She took the tin box to the very back of the writing desk.

She placed it closest to herself and furthest from others.

My mother was absolutely right.

"Teacher, you're doing this again." Sophia raised her head from the ground, her eyes crinkling.

They complain about others wasting money, but they're quick to collect it themselves.

"...Sophia." Aunt's face darkened.

"Is all the luggage packed?"

"Almost there, almost there." Sophia quickly lowered her head to collect it.

Richard then noticed another item on the table.

A tin box with a big, fat cat drawn on the lid in marker.

That was a gift from Sofia to her aunt.

Now my aunt took it out again and filled a whole box with dry food.

"Give this to your senior to eat on the way." Aunt patted the food box.

"The things in the car are not clean."

The still water that Richard had spread out with "contemplation" quietly flowed over.

Sofia was still her usual carefree self.

But the strands of ether on her body were very taut.

Richard couldn't hide her nervousness.

Isabella's cold face softened involuntarily as she sucked on the candy.

She realized it herself and quickly straightened her face.

"Sit down." She gestured with her chin toward the chair opposite her.

"Speak, what do you need my help with this time?"

Upon hearing this, Clara, with her keen eye, gestured for Sophia to go to the outer room with her.