I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The butler opened the doors to the three guest rooms one by one.

"The gentleman and lady are in this room, Miss Evelyn is next door, and young master Richard is in the innermost room."

He handed the keys to each person:

"If you need anything, just ring the bell to call someone. Someone will come to guide you before the dinner."

Before turning to leave, the butler noticed Evelyn's obviously ill-fitting little leather shoes and secretly took notice.

Richard walked down the corridor to the end.

Pushing open the door, the room was at least three times the size of his own bedroom.

The interior furnishings do not include gilded ornaments or crystal chandeliers, which would immediately make you think they are expensive.

But the materials, workmanship, and age of each item are there for all to see.

The essence of old money lies here; Grey's family car gave him the same feeling.

He took off his sweaty coat and hung it on a hook, then picked out a vest from his spare clothes and put it on.

A shirt and vest is not considered impolite at a dinner party, but it's much more relaxed than a three-piece suit.

After changing his clothes, Richard collapsed onto the bed and began to sort out what had just happened.

My maternal grandfather was also a member of the mystical side; this is no longer a matter of speculation.

His use of the etheric field to crush his own microcirculation was clean, efficient, and perfectly controlled.

It was released only on Richard; those around him were completely unaware.

Practitioners cannot achieve this level of precision.

Practitioners' use of Ethereum is still in the active stage, which is equivalent to picking up tools and doing work, requiring full concentration at every step.

My grandfather's move just now made it seem as if he himself was the ether, able to control the etheric field with a mere thought.

The difference between these two actually represents a qualitative change at different levels.

According to the hierarchy deciphered in that "Flora of the Western Continent":

Newcomer, Practitioner, Minor Expert, Major Expert, Expert, Master, Hidden Talent.

The other person is probably at least a minor expert, and could possibly be a major expert.

The book is almost entirely blank regarding the fifth level of mastery and those above.

However, judging from the scattered wording, those in high positions have already deviated from the category of "human".

My maternal grandfather probably hadn't reached that level yet.

Between minor expertise and major expertise, this is the most reasonable judgment Richard can make at present.

But regardless of the specific level, it is an unparalleled power for him.

Judging from the change in the other party's attitude after the test, I should be considered to have passed.

Richard didn't know whether passing the test was good or bad, but no matter what the other party was planning, he couldn't let his rhythm be disrupted.

He stood up, ready to open the door and go out to check the floor plan.

The moment my finger touched the doorknob, a muffled thud came from the next room.

It seems that something hit the wall, a chair, or a stool.

The sound was already quite muffled when it reached us; these kinds of high-end residences have very good sound insulation.

Evelyn lives next door.

Richard's hand paused on the doorknob, and he waited a few seconds.

That's all.

Maybe she kicked some furniture? Or maybe she knocked something over while changing clothes?

He frowned. In unfamiliar places, it's never a bad thing to be a little more cautious.

Richard turned back to the side against the wall and focused his attention on the Sun Throne.

A strand of ether is separated from the microcirculation and guided upwards along the side of the neck to the ear canal.

The cochlea became exceptionally sensitive under the lubrication of ether, and the sounds in the next room suddenly became clear.

"No, no need, really no need!"

My younger sister seemed very flustered.

"Miss, the butler has instructed that you try on these shoes and see which one fits you best."

The other voice was that of an older woman, probably a maid in the mansion.

"I'll change it myself! Just leave it by the door, leave it by the door!"

"Miss, we need to measure your foot shape to change your shoes. I need to check if the size is correct..."

"No need to measure! My foot... I... I'm having some inconvenience right now!"

"Miss?" The maid was clearly confused.

Richard already knew what had happened.

He gave his socks to his sister before leaving home today; those socks were a whole size too big for her.

I squeezed my already tight little leather shoes into my shoes, walked for ages, and then, with the temperature in Beijing higher than in Bristol...

You can imagine what the condition of your feet must be after being covered up all day.

"Miss, are you feeling unwell? Should we call a doctor?"

"No, no, no! You go out first, I'll change myself!"

Richard heard the entire acoustic performance through the wall.

First came a series of hurried footsteps, probably Evelyn retreating quickly in the room;

The chair made another thud, probably because my sister bumped into the back of the chair;

The maid followed the footsteps, and the two of them circled the room at least halfway around.

It seems like nothing serious has happened.

He pulled the ether away from his hearing, his shoulders shaking as he barely managed to suppress a laugh.

A few minutes later, a door next door opened and closed.

Soon, there was a knock on Richard's door.

"The door isn't locked," he replied.

Evelyn peeked half her head out from behind the door: "Brother?"

"What's wrong?"

The girl stood on the carpet with her hands hidden behind her back.

Her face turned red from the base of her ears all the way down to her neck.

"Did you... hear anything?"

"What?"

"It's... the sound from next door."

"The wall is very soundproof; I didn't hear anything," Richard said calmly.

Evelyn stared at him suspiciously for several seconds before finally letting out a slow breath.

"The maid insisted on helping me change my shoes."

"Let's change it then."

"I wore your socks today! I walked all day!"

When she said this, her expression was somewhere between collapse and exasperation.

"It's just changing shoes, you're not changing your feet."

"You don't understand!" Evelyn's voice rose a notch:

"She knelt down in front of me to help me take off my shoes... I... I didn't dare to stick my feet out."

The girl's face was so red it looked like it was about to smoke.

"What if she gets out... saying it's Ashford's granddaughter..."

"No, the maid wouldn't spread rumors."

"How did you know?!"

"Because in a family like this, anyone who can't keep their mouth shut will be fired long ago."

Evelyn opened her mouth, thinking it made sense, but she was still feeling uneasy.

"Did you change it or not?"

"It's changed." She stuck her foot out from behind to show him.

She was wearing a pair of dark brown, soft-soled sheepskin shoes that fit perfectly.

"These shoes are more comfortable than my own."

She couldn't help but stomp on the carpet twice, her expression changing from embarrassment to satisfaction.

"That'll do."

"But my socks..." She shrank back again:

"I've tucked it under my pillow. Don't forget to take it when you go back."

"You should find a place to wash and dry it."

"What if someone sees me washing them? Hanging a pair of oversized, smelly socks out to dry in Ashford?"

"...That makes sense."

"So I put it under my pillow."

Are you planning to ruin the pillow too?

Evelyn glared at him, then turned and slammed the door shut.

Two seconds later, the door opened a crack again:

"Come knock on my door before the dinner party, and we'll go downstairs together."

"it is good."

"besides."

"Um?"

"If you dare mention socks to anyone, I'll disown you as my sister."