I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The next day was Saturday, and Grey said she wanted to have sandwiches with him on a park bench.

Richard initially thought it was a joke, but she earnestly gave him the address over the phone:

The wooden benches along the bend in the road near the east gate of Kensington Gardens, close to Long Snake Lake.

When he arrived, the girl was already sitting there.

The person was wrapped up tightly, and a strand of hair was blown by the wind and fell across the side of their face.

An oil paper package lay on her lap, next to a tin cup and a thermos.

"Should we find an indoor place?" Richard sat down next to her.

"No need, this place is fine."

Grey pushed the oil paper package toward him.

"The butcher said this is the last piece of ham he has, and he can't guarantee whether he'll get any next week."

"His ham always sells really well, how come it's out of stock now?"

"The Quartermaster General requisitioned all the meat curing factories near my school to supply the front lines."

Grey unscrewed the lid of the thermos and poured hot tea into a tin cup.

Richard took the tin cup, brought it to his lips, and blew on it.

A few withered leaves floated on the surface of Long Snake Lake, and water birds perched on the rocks on the shore, their necks tucked in.

There weren't many people in the park, except for the occasional old lady wrapped in a scarf walking by with a short-legged dog.

The dog was also wearing warm clothes. It would take a couple of steps, then turn back to look at its owner, then take a couple more steps and turn back again to make sure the old lady was still following.

Grey handed the sandwich to Richard.

The bread slices were a bit hard, and the edges weren't pressed very evenly, but the cut surfaces were very clean.

Ham is sandwiched between lettuce and half a tomato, with a thin layer of butter spread on it.

Richard took a bite.

"tasty."

Grey also took a bite of her own portion, chewed it a couple of times, and looked towards the lake.

The days in December are short; by three in the afternoon, the sun is already beginning to sink below the treetops.

Sunlight filtered through the branches and fell on the lake's surface, shattering into a golden hue.

The two of them sat on the bench and ate sandwiches.

Grey eats very ladylike, chewing with her lips closed, and you can hardly see her cheeks moving.

"Actually, when I first wrote that letter..."

The girl added another half cup of tea to the tin cup.

"The part about park benches and sandwiches was a joke."

"Then what...?"

"Thinking about it later," she said, screwing the lid back on the thermos.

"It seems like there's nothing wrong with park benches."

"The restaurant has reduced its menu. I called to ask, and the chef said that the dessert has been reduced to only one item, and the roast beef shank is made with frozen meat."

She stuffed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth, puffed out her cheeks, and waited until she swallowed before continuing.

"It's better to sit outside."

Richard placed the tin cup on the armrest of the bench.

"What happened to your boat afterwards?"

Grey lowered her head.

"Dad went to the Navy Department twice more, but he couldn't even get inside the door the second time."

"Our family now only has two small boats left, which we use for short trips along the coast."

"The ocean shipping route is broken; all the spices imported from the Eastern Continent are stuck in transit ports and can't be retrieved."

As she spoke, her hand unconsciously tugged at the loose thread at the hem of her dress.

"Let me show you the box of Divine Throne Frost Beans you gave me before."

Richard took the beans out of his coat's inner pocket. Although they were wrapped in several layers of paper, the frost on the bean shells hadn't melted at all.

"It's grown." He handed over the paper package: "It's the second generation, here you go."

Grey took the bean and held it between two fingers.

"Thank you, my parents might be interested."

The girl poured him the last half cup of tea.

What are your plans for the New Year?

"The whole family is coming to Beijing for Christmas, and my younger sister wants to enroll in a culinary school."

"I remember she brought you some scones to school before."

Grey recalled for a moment.

"I do remember it; they put in too much sugar, it was a bit too sweet."

Richard patted the bread crumbs off his hands, thinking about his sister's reaction after hearing the evaluation.

"If she knew what you said, she could make another batch tomorrow to shut you up."

The girl laughed when she heard this, a smile that showed her teeth and wasn't exactly ladylike.

As the two chatted, the sky gradually darkened.

Richard helped her put the thermos and tin cup into the canvas bag.

"Let's go, I'll take you to the station."

The two walked along the pebbled path by the lake for a while.

As I walked out of the park's east gate, the streetlights came on.

Grey walked half a step to his left, the canvas bag swaying on her shoulder and rhythmically bobbing against her side.

"Grey".

"Um?"

"If you're free next year, I'll treat you to a proper restaurant next time we eat."

Grey glanced at him.

"Restaurants these days are probably all very expensive..."

"I just received my scholarship, so I can afford to eat."

Grey turned her face toward the streetlight, and Richard couldn't see her expression.

"It's rare for you to take the initiative to ask me out, of course I'm free."

………………

Back at school, Richard went to the training room first.

As the humidity decreases and breathing stops, the ether in the microcirculation returns to standby mode.

The traditional method of observing the sun's corona is listed first.

The outline clearly states: use the heartbeat as the basic rhythm, and superimpose light and heat visualization on a fourfold breathing framework.

The object of visualization is the constellation of the sun itself, which you should regard as a star, radiating outward with each breath.

Richard closed his eyes and turned up his heartbeat to a level he could hear.

"Thump...thump...thump..."

He could build the framework of four layers of breathing even with his eyes closed.

The corona method adds another step to this framework:

During each exhalation phase, the ether in the Sun Constellation should be "pushed" outwards, and warmth should be incorporated into the pushing motion.

Imagine yourself as a sun, shining your rays outwards.

During the first exhalation cycle, he tried to push the ether outward a little.

The ether did indeed move, starting from the Sun Constellation and spreading along the main vein to the four walls of the chest cavity.

When it was applied to the inside of his ribs, he felt a burning sensation, much stronger than the feeling of "healing".

The problem is coming.

When he pushed to the second beat, the ether got stuck at the corner where the ribs and spine meet.

He tried to increase the push notification efforts.

After spinning twice, the etheric flow began to shift.

It should have radiated outwards evenly, but instead, it was stronger on the left and weaker on the right.

The muscles on my left side are burning hot and swollen, while the muscles on my right side are ice cold and nobody cares.

Richard withdrew his strength and completed two more full cycles.

The results were about the same.

Every time it was pushed to a corner, a small group of ether refused to follow the path prescribed by the corona law.

They would rather take a longer route than be compressed into a uniformly radiating fan shape.

Richard opened his eyes and wrote a line of text in pencil in the blank space next to the outline.

"It's passable, but there's resistance at the corners and the uniformity isn't good enough. Compatibility rating: Usable."

He flipped the outline of the corona law to the side and pulled out the middle copy.

Classical texts and traditions; in-depth reading.

My aunt's handwriting appeared in several places on this outline.

Some areas were circled in red, with signs saying "Easy to get lost here".

The approach to in-depth reading is completely different from that of the corona method.

It does not require the ether to be pushed outwards, but rather to be drawn inwards.

The first paragraph of the outline is written very simply:

"The practitioner gathers all the ether toward the Sun Seat during meditation until the ether density inside the Sun Seat reaches more than three times the normal level."

After gathering the energy, the cultivator enters a state of high-density "reading."

What to read?

"Read the vibration frequency of each vein within your own microcirculation."

Richard did as instructed, and the process of gathering the ether went smoothly.

The density is indeed increasing, by two times... two and a half times...

When it reaches three times its original size, the space inside the Sun Throne is almost completely filled with ether.

Richard steadied his breathing and began to "read".

He infused his inspiration into his microcirculation, with each vein pulsating at a different frequency.

The main pulse has the lowest frequency, like the open string of a cello;

The veins are slightly higher, like a viola;

The highest frequency is found in the capillaries at the extremities, creating a dense, buzzing sound like the flapping of mosquito wings.

He "listened" for about thirty seconds.

In those thirty seconds, the synergistic effect of his extensive knowledge and erudition automatically began to take effect.

The compatibility is much better than the corona method, the ether gathering process is unimpeded, and the "reading" state can be maintained.

But he vaguely felt that something was missing.

Well... I was wearing shoes that were a bit too small. I could walk without any problems, but my toes were pressed against the bottom and it hurt a lot.

Deep reading is like wearing a pair of shoes that fit perfectly—they fit and are comfortable.

Richard wanted to wear a pair of... well, skateboard shoes that would help him walk.

He wrote a second line next to the outline.

"It fits well, collapses smoothly, and maintains a good reading experience. Fit rating: Suitable."

The last one, and the one he was most looking forward to, was the traditional mirror technique, the condensation method.

The outline is very thin, with very few words and extremely sparse layout; only one line of text is printed at the top of the first page:

"Speculation: Use stillness as a mirror, and breath as water."

The way to get started is even simpler, so simple that Richard initially thought he had missed something.

The outline only has three steps.

Step 1: Continue with the original breathing method as usual.

The second step: During the breath-holding phase, gradually reduce your own ether fluctuations to near zero.

Step 3: When the etheric fluctuations drop below the threshold, a layer of "still water" will naturally form on the practitioner's body surface.

Any external etheric fluctuations that fall upon this still water will produce a reflection.

That's all, and there's only one requirement—quiet.

Richard resumed breathing.

The wave-like rhythm rises and falls in the chest cavity, rising with inhalation and descending with exhalation.

When it came to the breath-holding phase, he began to suppress it.

Ethereum volatility decreased from normal levels, down to 80%... then 70%...

When he was about 60% full, his chest calmed down a bit, and the volume in the whole room was turned down for him.

Once the line for 30% was crossed, all the information in the training room flooded in at that moment.

The way it came in is completely different from clairvoyance.

He didn't need to look for them; they lined up to come to him.

The fine silver coating on the bronze target was reflected on his chest, and the seal inscription was reflected on his back.

Richard opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.

My fingertips were trembling slightly; the reflections that had flooded in hadn't completely faded away yet.

His breathing was very loud in his own ears.

The wind blew half a page of the paper over.

He pressed the paper down and wrote a third line next to it.

"..."

The pen hangs suspended on the paper.

After thinking for a long time, he finally wrote: "Perfect fit".