I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The answer is no.

I've read through the book; it's all about what a seal is, why it's designed this way, and comparisons of the advantages and disadvantages of various structures.

As for how to resolve it, not a word was mentioned.

Richard leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

The principle is actually very simple: teaching how to recognize a seal is to prevent disaster, while teaching how to remove a seal is to give someone a handle to use against you.

Teaching how to break the seal in introductory materials is like writing in a fire safety manual how to commit arson with maximum destructive power.

Among the identifiable knowledge on this bookshelf, finding even the introductory breathing method of the Golden Path is already an immense generosity.

Don't even think about finding the procedure to break the seal here.

He had considered asking Mr. Hutton, but the thought was quickly dismissed.

There are two reasons.

The first is that the motive doesn't make sense.

Why would a poor student save up two pounds to buy an ancient bronze vessel from the Black Earth River Basin?

Collection? Decoration? Mr. Hutton has seen it all; such a reason won't fool him.

If only the old gentleman had asked one more question, "What do you intend to use this lamp for?"

He would then have to choose between "partially revealing some secrets" and "losing trust after being caught lying."

Both options are dead ends, so it's better not to bring it up in the first place.

The second reason is more fundamental.

Even if you ask how to break the seal, the other party may not actually tell you the answer.

Mr. Hutton's attitude from beginning to end was: I've shown you the way; how far you go is up to you.

The bookshelf locations are accurate to the row and shelf number. This is the only copy of the reference table; please keep it safe after reading.

You can visit the sealed area in person if you want, and learn as much as you can from it.

Every step is about "giving you the opportunity to make contact, but not doing it for you."

He uses a passive approach to filtering: leave the door open, whether you push it or not is up to you.

Those who can push themselves away are qualified to go in;

Those who retreat when they can't push away don't suffer any loss.

After organizing his notes for the day, Richard clipped them into his notebook in chronological order.

The notebook was more than half full, with dense pencil writing extending from the first page to the third-to-last page, and it was all locked in the drawer.

The table lamp was turned off, and the room became dark.

The curtains weren't fully drawn, and moonlight leaked in through the gaps, falling just on the edge of the desk.

Richard sat in the darkness for a while.

So far, I've actually been living off free lunches.

Mr. Hutton provided everything: a occult bookshelf, a reference chart, a sealing practice, silver coins, gray stamens... without ever taking a single copper coin from him.

That's the extent to which you can get a free lunch.

He has already reached the ceiling of twenty-six books.

The theoretical framework is in place, the terminology system is in place, the three career paths are in place, and the seven ranks are in place.

From here on, he needs to use his abilities to acquire resources.

In the world of table tennis, the Cicero Cup is the first ticket he can grasp.

The bonus solves immediate financial problems, the referral list provides a continuous income stream, and it serves as a stepping stone to higher education institutions.

In the world behind the curtain, he also needs a ticket to enter.

But he still couldn't see what the coupon looked like.

The only certainty is that, whichever path he chooses, he needs to first become a valuable person.

He is so valuable that others are willing to share deeper insights with him.

He stood up, walked to the window, and drew the curtains tightly.

Sit back down on the edge of the bed, close your eyes, and begin today's breathing practice.

Inhale for four counts, hold your breath for four counts, exhale for four counts, hold your breath for four counts.

The warmth emanated from the Sun's Seat and lingered steadily during the exhalation phase without dissipating.

………………

That morning, Evelyn fried an egg in the kitchen.

Strictly speaking, she fried two, one for Richard and one for herself.

The oil in the pan sizzled, the edges of the egg whites developed a crisp, lace-like trim, and the yolks rose plumply in the center, perfectly cooked in a runny yolk.

"The one I fried for you last time was overcooked; the yolk was hard."

She placed the plate on the table: "It's much better this time."

"When did you start paying attention to the cooking temperature when frying eggs?"

"I've always cared," Evelyn said, taking off her apron and hanging it on a hook behind the door. "You just couldn't tell the difference before."

Richard dipped a breadcrumb into the runny egg yolk and put it in his mouth.

"Yes, it's definitely better than last time."

"Of course."

Evelyn sat down opposite her and scooped a spoonful of marmalade from the dish onto her bread.

While her mouth was busy, her eyes were not idle; she kept observing the older brother opposite her.

Lately, she has gotten used to this kind of observation.

Richard's complexion improved day by day.

Unlike those who wear makeup or have slept for twelve hours, this is good in every way.

Her cheeks regained color, her eye sockets were no longer so sunken, and her lips changed from dry, chapped, grayish-pink to a normal pale red.

Even their eating speed has changed.

He used to have a very poor appetite, and it would take him ten minutes to eat half a slice of bread; now he can finish two slices of bread and an egg in less than five minutes.

"elder brother."

"Um?"

"How have you been taking care of yourself lately? I haven't seen you doing any exercise."

"Go to bed early and get up early, and eat more."

"this one?"

"That's it."

Evelyn used a fork to cut off the burnt edge of the egg white, put it in her mouth and chewed it.

She felt that her brother was just giving her the runaround, but she couldn't find a way to refute him.

They do indeed go to bed early, get up early, and eat more; the undeniable facts are right in front of us.

"Alright then." She pushed the plate away and wiped her mouth. "Anyway, it's a good thing you're healthy."

The conversation shifted from casual chatter to her real concern: "Mom said that we need to start preparing for our trip to Beijing in the next few days."

"Um."

Are you nervous?

"fine."

"I'm a little nervous."

Richard glanced at her.

Evelyn wrapped her braid around her finger twice.

"The way those relatives looked at us at the last gathering..."

The feeling of being scrutinized from head to toe and receiving only a polite smile when a peripheral member of the family attends a gathering is something you can remember for a lifetime without ever having to experience it a second time.

"This time is different." Richard finished his tea. "This time, my grandfather specifically asked to see me."

That's why I'm nervous.

"Don't be nervous, just follow me."

The girl stared at him for a while, then untied her braid.

"You talk like you have a lot of experience."

"Although I haven't been there many times, I've been reading a lot of books lately."

Can reading solve problems related to temperament and demeanor?

"...It really is true. Haven't you heard the saying: 'Books are the tools for shaping the soul'?"

Evelyn felt she was losing the argument, so she pouted and stood up to clear the dishes.

As she reached the kitchen doorway, she habitually turned back to give him a few words of advice:

"Come home early tonight, don't stay out too late."

"understood."

"Don't get into other people's cars."

"understood."

"Don't join a gang."

"……Um."

Evelyn turned and went into the kitchen with satisfaction.

The clinking of dishes and bowls, along with the sunlight streaming through the window, added a touch of warmth to the otherwise gray morning.