I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 450 New Channels for Rare Items

Richard walked toward that pillar.

Five steps, four steps, three steps.

By the third step, my chest started to feel hot.

The warmth surged from the Sun Throne to his limbs, only to abruptly recede halfway through.

He stopped, suppressed the Mirror Condensation Technique, and when it reached that line, information from the entire backyard flooded in.

With the enhancement of level 5 [Perception], the etheric field of the pillar showed layers in the water on his side.

The outermost layer is made up of debris that has been rubbed off from incense, prayers, and the breath of passersby over the past 1,500 years, which is caught by the relief of flames and wings on the pillar.

This layer is very loose; it will disintegrate on its own if the wind is strong.

The next layer is where the ritual is repeatedly infused; this layer cannot be touched, or the pillars will be ruined.

He narrowed the scope back to the outermost layer.

This layer of debris hangs in the gullies and will automatically flow away once it's full; there's no harm in picking it up.

Richard glanced back twice to make sure Donald was busy cleaning up the mess and had no time to pay attention to him.

He then stretched out his hand, his palm almost touching the pillar.

Available points: 1.17

Available points: 1.31...1.58...

The fragment of the poison gas expert, signed by the strange object, gave three points.

I used two points to advance to level 5 [Perception], leaving only a little over one point. This is a good opportunity to replenish those points.

Available points: 1.94...2.21...

The colors in the grooves of the relief carving on the pillar are gradually brightening again.

Those dark, accumulated grime were originally from centuries of incense and candle smoke.

What's revealed beneath the grime is the original stone color, a yellowish-gray.

Available points: 2.47...2.63.

He stopped there.

Further absorption will cause problems; it's best to stop while you're ahead.

Richard retreated ten paces away, collected the still water, and stood there for a long time before he felt the warmth in his chest return.

Available points: 2.63

Donald made a "Huh" sound behind him.

"This pillar... is clean now."

The short man looked at Richard with some suspicion:

"You little brat, didn't I tell you not to touch it! This is no joke..."

Richard raised his hands to show him that they were spotless, without a speck of dust on them.

"I didn't touch it!"

"It's probably due to the heat distribution that the pillar was damaged. You'll need to take better care of it."

Upon hearing this, Donald exclaimed "Ah!" and hurriedly ran to the side to rummage for a magnifying glass and maintenance tools.

When he was finally persuaded to get to work, Richard mentally reviewed the entire night from beginning to end.

The second divinely crafted weapon, the "flying shoes," has landed. It remains to be seen how Hecate will view the progress of his mask's resonance.

Finally, I "touched" the pillar of the fire god temple that I had been longing for, and my score was over 2.5.

When he ran out of the dormitory last night, he really wasn't thinking about anything.

Now that we've taken stock, the books look pretty good on paper.

Richard couldn't help but chuckle.

He did a lot of things that year, and looking back, none of them were actually a complete loss.

"What are you laughing at?" Donald asked, turning around.

"It's nothing."

"Manager Richard." Richard turned around.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Donna laid her newly wrapped hands flat on her knees.

"speak."

"I'd like to work part-time here."

The courtyard was silent for three seconds.

Mrs. McNeill's roll of cloth slipped halfway and rolled two feet away.

"What did you say?" Donald squinted.

"Part-time," Richard said.

"Wipe the goods, apply oil, arrange them on shelves, write cards, and learn to look at things from you."

"Your hands won't be able to hold a magnifying glass for three months; someone has to open the shop."

"The Ashford family's grandson," Donald said slowly.

"Second place in the summer research program at the Department of Classical Studies, Imperial Capital University; second place in the Cicero Cup."

"It was published in the newspaper."

"You're still reading the newspaper?"

"On my street, who doesn't read the newspaper?"

Donald leaned forward slightly.

"Such a bright student, coming to my shabby shop to wipe candlesticks."

Why?

Richard had already thought about how to answer.

"My connection with Mr. Clement broke."

"Clement of Briston?"

"I bought a lot of things from his shop. He's getting old, and last autumn he handed the shop over to his nephew."

"I have my own antiques channel in Beijing."

Donald didn't say anything.

Richard continued, "When I do appraisals, every item that comes to me has already been sorted through. The good ones are kept elsewhere, and only the rest are left for me."

"I want to see ones that haven't been picked out by anyone."

"I want to start by looking at the steps of sourcing, unpacking, and getting started."

In fact, the shops in this special location on Huayue Street have seen countless items pass through their hands in a year, ranging from those under a hundred years old to those over a thousand years old.

He doesn't need to buy or take any of these items with him.

Wipe it once, apply oil once, and write a card.

No one would notice this tiny amount of ether seeping out, and it wouldn't affect the selling price of any item.

Donna stared at him for a long time.

"What about the wages?" he finally asked.

"don't want."

"don't want?"

"don't want."

Donald's eyebrows shot up immediately.

"Young man, the most expensive jobs are the ones that don't charge wages."

"I need to hire a proper worker for this shop, and it will cost me one shilling a week."

I knew he was worth one shilling, and he knew he was worth one shilling; we were both perfectly clear about it.

"If you don't want wages, then what do you want?"

"I want three things," Richard said, holding up his finger.

"I was there when the goods were unpacked; you taught me how to identify them step by step."

"Also, for any items that haven't sold in the shop and that you're unsure about, let me take them back to get an appraisal report. You can keep the report, and we can share the conclusions."

Donner mentally reviewed these three things.

"You wish for the third one."

"Then change the third clause to 30% for you."

"Take 50%."

"Take 35%."

"Forty percent."

"make a deal."

Donner slapped his knee, then winced in pain.

"...Your whole family."

He muttered something and blew on his bandaged hand.

"Not a single one of them is easy to talk to."

Mrs. McNeil picked up the roll of cloth from the side, suppressing a laugh.

"Donald, you've just picked up a future great scholar for free."

"What do you mean by getting something for free?" Donald said irritably.

"He definitely won't be able to come more than a few times."

"I'll come on Wednesday afternoon and Saturday afternoon," Richard said.

"Then you're not even as frequent as a stray cat."

Richard walked out of the shop, and the copper bell behind him jingled again.

"Feed..."

Donald peeked halfway out from the door of number seven.

"Don't be late, Wednesday at 3 PM."

"understood."

"Wipe the shelves first when you enter. You are not allowed to touch the row of stone bowls on the second shelf. If you break one, you will have to pay for it until you graduate."

Richard raised his hand in agreement.

He walked to the outer street corner, where Clara was reaching up to tuck a strand of hair that was sticking to her face behind her ear.

After trying to hold it in place twice without success, I simply untied the entire ribbon and held it between my teeth.

She raised her hands and tied them up again, her brown hair being lifted by the wind, revealing her fair neck.

The girl tilted her chin slightly, her eyes half-closed, her mind completely focused on her hands, unaware of her own appearance.

Richard stopped two steps away and waited for her to finish tying her hair.

"Senior, you haven't gone back yet?"

After tying the ribbon, Clara didn't answer his question; instead, she asked him a question in return.

"What exactly did your uncle say to you before?"

"Speaking of fire." Richard blinked.

"Williams!"

The senior student calling him by his full name like that seemed to have never done it before.

Richard had no choice but to repeat what the other person had said: "He said he didn't approve of our relationship."

Upon hearing this, Clara's face flushed red.

She raised the back of her hand and pressed it against her face, but found it was even hotter, so she quickly put it down.

"I should have guessed it."

She lowered her head, and the tip of her shoe crushed the glass on the stone slab.

"sorry."

"Senior, what's there to apologize for?"

"Why not?" She looked up.

"My uncle had a really sour face when he opened the door last night. I thought he was upset because I was making noise at night, but now that I think about it..."

She paused halfway through her sentence, pursing her lips: "I should have made things clear to him sooner!"

"Did he never know that I was the one who cured your ear?"

"I didn't dare to say it."

Clara sat down on the steps beside her, her hands folded and resting on her knees.

"If I said that a pre-college student cured me, he would have to send me back to the sanatorium on the spot and take you there for questioning as well."

"Is he the one in charge of your family?"

Clara hummed in agreement.

"He is the only skilled craftsman in our family in this generation."

My parents are rarely in the capital; they're often away on business trips for years at a time, and they don't send letters very often.

After I started school, I would go to my uncle for everything, big or small.

Clara lowered her head.

"So I'm really sorry this time."

Richard suddenly changed the subject:

"Senior, I'm quite comfortable using the rubbing machine you gave me."

The feel of the joystick is better than the others in the department.

Clara bit her lip and suddenly said:

"That was modified by my uncle. He said the original was too tight and the girl couldn't shake it."