I loaded the Mysticism panel.

"No."

"Your Mightiness."

Mercury smiled, showing no remorse whatsoever.

"You yourself have already said whose seat this is tonight."

Minerva froze.

Richard realized what was going on in that instant.

The phrase "The Roman envoy is Mercury" was uttered by her own lips. Since she used that phrase to remove Richard from his position, she also handed over the final interpretation of this position to Mercury.

Mercury said very politely.

"I will smash this messenger's post tonight, burn it, and throw it into the Tiber, and the curtain will not stop me."

"Besides, I'm just reselling; that's my job."

He turned around and faced Richard.

"Lord Hermes."

"I present this name to you, Mr. Mercury, the messenger of Rome."

As those words were spoken, every stone slab in the City of Seven Hills resounded simultaneously.

Minerva was helpless.

"...I said something wrong tonight."

Richard stood in the very center of the city.

The double serpent staff, the flying shoes, the gate of extradition... too many have returned, too hastily.

"Cheer".

A thin slit starts from the brow bone, runs along the left half of the mask all the way to the jaw.

The instant it cracked open, he saw the inner layer through the crack.

He had just made a note of it and discovered that the gap was still there, but the inner layer was no longer visible.

Richard put that aside for now; the night wasn't over yet.

A line lit up on the panel in his field of vision.

[The envoy is inviolable - now upgraded]

[Nemo prohibet: Those who carry a staff but do not extend their hands, and whose boundaries are recognized by this rule, shall not be refused passage.]

This is a shift from "No one can touch me" to "No door can stop me".

In the darkness at the end of the Tiber River outside the city, Matthew was still standing outside the furrow, waiting.

Mercury walked to the half-collapsed colonnade and sat down on a broken section of the pillar.

"Your Mightiness."

"Please speak, sir."

"I'll give you a free piece of advice."

He twirled his hat halfway around his lap.

"The more divine names you accumulate, the more valuable they become."

"Your Excellency now has two on you: Hermes and Mercury."

"Sounds impressive, two canes, two pairs of shoes, two doors."

He looked up.

"My greatest skill in life is knowing when to sell."

"It was easy for you to accept it tonight, but it won't be so easy in the future."

Richard stood there, mentally going over the words in his mind.

"Thank you, sir."

You're welcome.

Mercury stood up from the pillar, put his wide-brimmed hat back on, and walked out of the city.

He paused at the edge of the furrow, turned around, and bowed again to the dark expanse outside the city wall.

Outside the city wall, someone scratched their head.

"...This kid does know how to be polite."

Mercury is gone.

The furrow lifted him up a little, like a doorman lifting a curtain for a regular guest.

Below the seven hills, Hercules hoisted his giant club onto his shoulder and turned to look at Dionysus.

"He just left like that?"

"I'm gone."

"You don't want the money back?"

"His money is in the bag." Dionysus held up his empty glass and waved it in that direction.

"He's here tonight to unload the cargo."

"So we win?"

"Take a look at your arm first."

The big guy glanced down at the stone chips that hadn't completely fallen off his right arm and shut up.

At the same moment, the wheel of fate began to turn again.

Fortuna's hand spun faster on the rim of the wheel than before.

After the line broke, she couldn't read anything anymore.

Remember the only official website for "Deqi Novels": www.deqixs.org. This is the only official website; other websites may be discontinued at any time.

If she can't read the data, she can't retrieve the numbers; if she can't retrieve the numbers, she's nothing.

So she started taking other people's luck.

Move a little from Venus, a little from the goddess of the hunt who fell on the stone steps, a little from the man who knelt in the stone slab and could never get up again.

The loads that had been moved were piled up on her own wheel, so much so that the spokes were rattling.

Catherine untied the whip from her forearm.

She tried to strike three times that night, but each time the whip failed mid-air. The scales couldn't find a balance, so the whip wouldn't fall.

Now things are not right; the left pan of the balance scale slumped to the bottom with a "thud."

"...those who transgress the rules."

Her voice was so hoarse it was almost incoherent.

"They must be punished."

The whip tip stretched out in mid-air, and the wheel of fate split open from the middle.

Fortuna was pulled down from the hilltop, and the items she had moved there scattered along the way, drifting back to their original owners one by one.

Catherine paused for a moment as she put away the whip.

In the instant that whip was lashed out, the scales weighed the entire city of Seven Hills.

She looked up and glanced towards the center of the circle.

The red-haired girl took out the notebook, opened it, and then closed it again.

Some scores shouldn't be settled tonight.

Hecate came over, holding the torch all night.

"You can't open it."

Richard did not turn around.

"I know."

He had seen the bottom of the ether. The column for the spirit was empty, and the inverted tree of light in the Sun's Seat had its leaves clinging to the trunk, one by one.

He needs a cane to stand up now.

Envoys are allowed to pass through as per the rules, and once the rules are accepted, someone still has to push open the door.

"I have a key here," Hecate said.

She raised her right hand.

The brass key was slightly longer than a palm, and its teeth were polished to a shine.

Richard steadied his double-serpent staff and pushed it forward.

The furrow lifted slightly.

In the darkness outside the city, someone sighed.

"...Finally."

Matthew walked along, hands in his pockets, surveying the city.

"It looks pretty good, but there aren't enough roads."

The one in the ditch remained silent.

Matthew walked to the center of the open space below the Seven Hills and looked around.

The goddess of the hunt sat leaning against a pillar, the spear still stuck in her body.

The female stove goddess guarded that small pot of fire, which was only as tall as a finger.

Mars knelt on the stone slab, leaning on his bent spear, while Venus leaned against a pillar, blood trickling from her chin down to her clothes.

Minerva sat on the steps of the highest hill, his hands clasped on his knees.

Matthew suddenly spoke up.

"When people outside hear about my maze tradition, their first thought is that it's something that makes people get lost."

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and drew a large circle in the air.

"There is only one path from beginning to end in the maze."

"No matter which entrance you enter from, whether you turn left or right, you will eventually have to reach the middle."

He put his hand down.

"The place where you are standing tonight is the middle."

"...So what do you want to do?"

Mars raised his head, his eyes, hidden behind the iron mask, were terrifyingly red: "Kill us all?"

"Kill you?" Matthew retorted.

He looked up, glanced deeper into the curtained space, and spread his hands.

"I'm not one to cause trouble."

Hercules chimed in sullenly from the side, "That slap you gave him when you came in really cracked his face."

"That's not called causing trouble," Ma Xiuli said confidently. "That's called teaching people a lesson."

He took two steps forward.

"Alright, you can all go back to where you are."

Several new roads have appeared on the clearing that was turned upside down at the foot of Qiqiu.

The first one reached Mars' feet.

He landed in a room with things that had been collected by three generations hanging on the wall: his grandfather's short sword, his father's wrist guard, and the bronze medal he brought back from his first field mission when he was sixteen.

An empty box sat in the center of the room.

A man stood next to the box, holding a list in his hand; he was the one sent to collect his belongings.

The second path was paved for Venus.

She stood up, holding onto a pillar. There were lights on the street, and rows of seats on both sides faced her.

She walked up to it, and the light came.

Wherever she goes, light shines.

She walked about twenty steps before realizing that everyone in every row of seats had their backs to her.

She spoke, and those people laughed.

She walked a little further, and applause broke out. She felt as if she were being carried forward by the sound.

The applause is for others.

She raised her hand to touch her face and felt the crack.

The third road smelled of furnace ash.

The female Kitchen Goddess held a ceramic basin, and the small flame inside was only as tall as a finger.

At the end of the road, a fire was burning fiercely in a stove; you could practically scorch your face through the door.

She squatted down and added her little bit of fire to the fire, but didn't want the flame.

There were two sets of knives and forks in the room, but no one came back for dinner until dawn.

There are hoof prints on the fourth road.

Diana pulled the spear that had pierced her out, clutched her ribs, and stood up.

The hoof prints were fresh, the soil was still wet, and a deer had just passed by.

She followed them for half the night, and as dawn broke, she looked down and saw the marks clearly.

Hooves lined up in front and behind, all the way to where she was standing.

There were dogs barking behind me, barking urgently and happily.

Those were the group of children she had raised from childhood; she could recognize their voices even with her eyes closed.

She opened her mouth to say her name, but what came out of her throat was the cry of a deer.

The fifth path was short. After Fortuna was lashed down by that whip, she couldn't get up. The wheel of fate split in the middle, its spokes scattered all over the ground.

The road stretched out in front of her, and at the end of it was only a table.

She landed in front of a table with two dice on it.

She sat down, picked up the dice, and tossed them once; it was one.

Toss again, one.

She placed both hands on the table, held them for a long time, and then tossed the toss again, and got a score of one.

She is the auditor of the Naples Lottery Authority and the referee of the largest lottery in the country.

My favorite thing in life is sitting in the last row of the lottery drawing hall and watching those people tremble as they hold their lottery tickets.

When she rolled the dice seventeenth time, she held the two dice in her hand, and when she opened her hand, it was still a single.

The last one extends to the steps of the first hill.

Minerva stood up by herself, dusted the dust off her skirt, and leaned against the wall with the shield of the Gorgon hanging from it, without letting anyone help her up from beginning to end.

"I know the way."

She landed in the domed room of the Turin Observatory, where a cabinet contained old star charts from the entire peninsula.

She was the observatory director and the youngest full professor, in charge of all the star catalogs on the peninsula.

She walked to the control panel, habitually reaching out to turn the crank, wanting to open the dome to see the night sky.

The crank turned half a circle, the dome opened, and the night sky was fully visible.

On his shoulder, the owl's eyes could no longer open.

………………

Richard sat down on a flipped-up stone slab.

Sitting down is easy, but standing up is difficult.

He tried once, but his knee wouldn't obey him.

"Shall I carry you?" the big guy asked, leaning closer.

"……No."

"There are still stone chips in your arm," Richard said, leaning on his cane.

"Carry me on your back; we need to call an orthopedic specialist tomorrow."

Hercules thought for a moment, then nodded sincerely: "That's true."

Demeter squatted by the furrow where soil was falling down and dug her hand into the freshly turned earth.

"This soil was turned over really well," she said, sounding rather regretful.

"It's a pity it's someone else's land."

A scraping sound came from the fifth hill.

Everyone looked up and saw Dionysus squatting next to the discarded earthenware basin, scraping the bottom of the basin with the rim of a cup.

"What are you doing?"

"Do any of you know the market price of Roman hearth ash?"

"You said yesterday that you lost the money for two drinks."

"So now I have to make up for it."

The Prometheus doll knelt on one knee beside him, its left arm hanging completely down, and its right arm split open from the elbow down.

He stood next to the doll for a long time, then let out a long sigh.

"My master saw this arm..."

"What will happen?"

"It will force me to work for free for another three years."

Hecate placed the torch, now burning only a sliver of flame, on the stone slab.

She held it up all night, and only now is she slowly lowering her hand.

"Gentlemen, please stop picking up the things."

"Why?" Dionysus raised his head.

"Because we'll have to walk out on our own two legs later, whoever picks up the most will have to carry it themselves."

Dionysus looked down at the small clump of ash in the cup, reluctantly shaving it twice more before standing up.

The voice from the furrow didn't speak until this moment.

"...Kid."

Matthew turned around: "Senior."

"You sent them on their way."

"They've been delivered. Don't worry, none of them are dead."

Mars still has a debt to pay for this, and Minerva knows two experts, so it's too lazy to really make things difficult for them.

The ditch gradually disappeared, and Li sensed that something had walked over him.

An old craftsman squatted down and glanced at him.

[Perception] That layer of water reflected back what should have been reflected: an ordinary college student with mediocre talent, finished.

The one in the ditch finished reading.

"Child, you..."

"What did you read?" Richard asked.

"What I read doesn't match what I saw tonight."

The old craftsman reached out to touch it again, but a path suddenly appeared across his path.

Matthew had somehow shifted half a step and was now standing between the other man and Richard, looking completely relaxed, almost like someone trying to stop a dog from running into their neighbor's vegetable garden.

"Senior, have you seen enough?"

The expert in the ditch stopped, and the etheric field of the entire city of seven hills tensed. Hercules subconsciously gripped his giant club tighter.

The old craftsman snorted.

"……mean."

"I've always been stingy," Matthew said matter-of-factly.

"I've come all this way from the New World, I can't just hand people over."

The person in the ditch didn't measure any further; they tried a different method.

"You have frost on you."

Richard ran his fingers over the outside of the inner pocket.

The antlers are pressed against his ribs, and he's almost gotten used to it.

"Frozen soil, horse sweat." The voice chuckled, seemingly relieved to have finally figured something out.

"And the grass trampled by tens of thousands of hooves, was that given to you by the one from the north?"

Richard did not deny it.

"It rarely gives anything to people." The expert in the ditch also knew the hunter's miserly nature.

"Don't be fooled by the fact that it leads such a large army; it has to keep track of every single horsehair in its mind."

If it's willing to let you shed a horn from its mount, it means it really likes you.

The broken sections of the city wall began to fade, and a layer of reed debris floated on the surface of the Tiber River.

"Son, you did a good job avoiding my trap tonight."

Richard bowed slightly.

This expert extended an invitation.

"The weak points beneath the Apennine Peninsula are much older than the ruins of your empire."

"If you ever want to see the real thing, you don't need to bring a letter of introduction."

"Stand at the city gate and announce: I'm here to see the monument."

"Wherever there is a place that recognizes this old fellow, the door will be open to you."

Richard stood on the fading stone pavement and bowed solemnly.

"Thank you, senior."

"Don't thank me." The voice had faded. "I lost a game tonight, I'm just saving face."

"...Senior," Matthew interjected leisurely from the side.

"The way you're trying to make amends is even more like a business transaction than Mercury's."

"Shut up, kid."

The furrow has been leveled.

As the last stone slab of the Seven Hills City crumbled, Li realized that his feet had slipped into the void.

Xinghai surrounded them again, with seven stone chairs around the round table.

As soon as Richard sat down, he didn't really want to stand up anymore.

The amphora in Dionysus's hand had a crack on its rim.

He poured some wine into the container, took a sip, and frowned.

"...It's bitter."

It was still bitter when he poured it again. He held the cup up to the light and looked at it for a long time before finally sighing.

"Alright, even bitterness has its own flavor; it's bitter before it's sweet."

"To your liking," Demeter said from the side.

She sat in her chair, a sickle resting across her lap.

"How's the field?" Hecate asked.

"There will be no harvest this year; we'll have to start from scratch."

She spread her hands on her knees, her hands trembling.

Nemesis remained silent as her uncle lay before her.

The man had one hand hanging by his side, and the other hand had been pried open at some point, his palm filled with stone chips.

Richard stood up, propped himself up on the back of the chair, and walked over to pour the still water over the person.

After taking the photo, he didn't say anything.

"He..." Catherine looked up.

Richard shook his head.

The red-haired girl lowered her head.

She opened her mouth.

Those three sounds lingered in her throat for a long time before finally emerging, hoarse and weak.

"...Don't die."

After saying that, she put the back of her hand to her mouth and coughed.

The coughed-up substance landed on the back of my hand, leaving a small dark red patch.

Richard squatted down next to her.

"When we get back, I'll find a way to make things easier for him."

Catherine looked up at him.

"I remember!" After she finished writing, she tore off the page and stuffed it into his hand. It was a familiar IOU.

Hecate sat in the main seat, tucking her left hand into her sleeve.

"Let's divide the things."

"The group at the Rome table has dispersed; those who remain will be distributed according to their contributions."

"Mars's legacy of hunting the moon is passed on to Nemesis."

The red-haired girl did not look up.

"The embers left by the goddess of the hearth were given to Prometheus."

"I'll keep the entire set of observations from Minerva tonight for myself."

The golden mask tilted to one side.

"Of the remaining ones, Hermes is first."

No one in the temple voiced any objection.

Hercules pushed his portion onto the center of the table.

"I do not want."

"You don't want it?" Dionysus's eyes widened.

"If he hadn't given me that name tonight, I would have been pierced by that spear long ago."

The big, simple-minded man said matter-of-factly, "This portion belongs to him."

He turned to watch Richard pound his chest, making loud thuds, and then winced in pain.

"Call me if you need anything from now on, I'll be there anytime."

Prometheus also took a step forward.

"From today onwards, Hermes will be the top priority for orders in my workshop."

Demeter said nothing.

She took a small cloth bag out of her bosom and pushed it across the table.

Richard untied the bag and took a look inside; it contained seeds, each one plump and full.

"It's the only one in the field that wasn't contaminated this year," she said.

"I can't accept this."

"You can have it." She took her hand back. "I still need to till the land. It's just sitting there doing nothing."

Hecate spoke at this point.

Hermes.

Richard raised his head.

"I'd like to set up a secondary seat at this table starting tonight."

The temple fell silent.

"The second seat is to my right. From now on, when I'm not around, you'll be in charge of what's happening at the table."

Richard pretended to think for a moment.

"Thank you, Chief, but it's not necessary for now."

"I'm just a practitioner. Although I made a small contribution tonight, I haven't reached the required level."

He put away the double-serpent staff: "I'll just sit in my own."

Hecate stared intently at the young man.

She must be happy after tonight; this table is really good, much better than she expected.

Along with the joy came surprise and hesitation; the probing just now was a product of that hesitation.

"……good."

Hermes isn't sitting in the second seat tonight, perhaps because he feels it's useless to him, but where does he want to sit in the future?

But what's done is done, and after tonight, the cohesion around this table has increased like never before.

If she were to say anything that could disrupt the harmony at this moment, not only would the atmosphere be ruined, but she herself would also gain nothing.

So she said nothing and hung the missing tooth of the brass key back on her waist.

Matthew's road was still open, stretching from the Star Sea to the temple gate.

"Alright." Matthew stood on the road.

"I should go too."

Hercules immediately stood up, but then bent over in pain.

"senior!"

"what."

"Could you...?"

"No," Matthew interrupted preemptively.

"I don't take on apprentices or mentor younger generations; I'm the kind of person who only makes transactions."

He gestured with his chin toward Richard.

"I'm satisfied with the price this kid offered."

"What did he give you?" Dionysus couldn't help but ask.

Matthew thought about it.

"A short story."

The entire table was stunned.

"...What?"

"A novel," Matthew said casually.

"There's also a ghost story every two months, and a Christmas postcard."

Hercules opened his mouth and couldn't close it for a long time.

"That's all?"

That's all.

The big guy turned his head and looked at Richard with a completely new look.

"...Is this how you scholars negotiate prices?"

Richard didn't respond to that.

Matthew turned to leave, but found something approaching from the other end of the road.

It walked slowly, and its four paws made no sound when they touched the ground.

It was a cat that was entirely black and shiny, with a red ribbon around its neck and golden eyes.

Hecate stood up, frozen in place.

The black cat didn't look at her and walked straight to Matthew's feet.

"...Come back for dinner."

The woman's husky voice, coming from the cat's mouth, touched everyone's heart.

Matthew didn't move, but the carefree smile on his face slowly faded.

"……teacher."

"The soup needs to cool down."

"I'll be right back."

The black cat then turned its head and glanced at the main seat.

Hecate stood there, her hands tucked into her sleeves, without uttering a single word.

A figure stood in the shadows on the outermost edge of the temple, unnoticed by anyone.

That person stood there from the moment the show ended, without saying a word.

The black cat walked in that direction.

"Hey, give me back what you threw out tonight."

Richard saw it in his own still waters.

When the city of the Seven Hills dispersed, the other party deliberately threw out an eye to lure him away, preventing it from dispersing.

"No."

The person, who was wrapped up tightly, spoke for the first time, and his voice did not sound human, but echoed heavily.

What falls to the ground belongs to whoever finds it.

"It didn't land on the ground." The cat-like figure suddenly bristled. "It was plucked off someone's forehead."

"Once it's picked, it's mine."

"It saw someone tonight."

The Abyss's traditional master remained silent.

"So what?"

"Some people will have trouble sleeping at night."

Richard realized that Mrs. Mary wasn't there to see her students tonight; she was there to collect something.

Hercules stepped back, Dionysus held the cracked cup in his arms, and Prometheus's ball of crimson flame shrank to a single point.

Hecate stood motionless before the main seat.

"...Come here." The black cat took a step forward.

The two fought for a very short time; the one who stood there, Mrs. Mary, like a mirror, only reflected a well.

The well flipped upwards, hit the mirror, and bounced back as before, causing the other party to retreat.

The two were so skilled that Richard was reminded of sparring with Montagu in the training room.

They both knew exactly which way to move their hand, even with their eyes closed.

However, he and Montagu trained for half a year.

He couldn't even imagine how many years these two had practiced.

Matthew stood on that road, watching silently.

In a brief exchange, the person, who was wrapped up tightly, sighed and began to dissipate.

Before she disappeared, she pointed at Richard, then at herself.

"What does this mean?" Hercules asked, leaning on the table.

"She means, I've remembered." The black cat picked up the eye.

The moment he picked it up, Richard felt as if the entire starry sea had been cleaned up.

The black cat, carrying the eyeball in its mouth, walked up to Matthew.

"I'm gone."

"Here it comes, here it comes."

Matthew followed.

"We're leaving now."

After Hecate finished speaking, the Star Sea began to shrink upwards.

Richard closed his eyes and began to count.

First, before me was the furrow that had been raised an inch.

Second, there is Mars kneeling in front of the empty box.

Third, the owl that closed its eyes and never opened them again.

Four, five... a cup of bitter wine, and a sickle that severed his own field.

Sixth, the IOU that the girl slipped into his hand.

7... Richard was awakened by the sound of his own breathing.

The curtains were left a crack; it was still dark.

【Lingrong 0/20.】

Richard raised his hand; the reed pen was still in his palm, but the handle was completely cold.

………………

Richard pushed open the door and went in; Mortimer was sitting in that old armchair.

A copper plate lay on his lap, but there was nothing on the water.

The teacup with the chipped rim had dried tea leaves at the bottom.

"professor."

Richard took two steps closer and saw a dark bluish-black patch beneath the half-open, half-closed eyes.

"...You're back," the old professor said.

"I'm back."

"Where's the pen?"

Richard took out the reed pen and handed it over with both hands.

Mortimer took it, looked at it for a while, and then nodded and put it away.

The old professor didn't ask anything, put the wrapped pen into the drawer and locked it.

"Help me up."

Richard walked over and extended his arm, and the two of them walked downstairs side by side.

He stopped and caught his breath when he reached the corner on the second floor.

"Professor, what did you see last night?" Richard asked casually.

"Yeah, I saw a kid catch a seven-pound bass in the canal last night."

The two went downstairs, where a carriage was waiting on Wutong Road.

Richard opened the car door and helped him into the car.

The old professor settled into his seat in the car.

"You don't need to copy books today."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Not even tomorrow."

The old professor pulled his hat down a little.

"You don't need to retake the exam, have a good rest during the summer vacation, you won't be so free next semester."

"Are you going to assign me a task?"

"Hmm... Go ask your aunt."

The curtains were drawn, and the carriage departed.

After seeing the professor off, Richard arrived at his aunt's dormitory with some confusion and took out his key.

The key was given to him last autumn, and Richard hasn't used it since; I guess even his aunt has forgotten about it.

He inserted the key and turned it halfway; the door opened and the lights inside were still on.

A person is hunched over in front of the writing desk.

Isabella had one arm resting on the scroll and the other hand on the edge of the small copper plate.

The red pen slipped from her fingers, rolled to the edge of the table, and got stuck without falling.

Half of her hair was loose, with a strand clinging to her face and moving with her breath.

There was a glass on the corner of the table. Richard approached and could smell the aroma; it was wine.

"The professor refuses to go back to bed."

A familiar, cold female voice rang out in the room.

Richard turned around and saw Clara sitting in the chair by the window, holding an open book in her arms.

"Senior..."

"Shh!"

Clara stood up and gently placed the book on the windowsill.

"She has been sitting in the chair without moving since yesterday afternoon."

"When I arrived at seven o'clock, the papers had already been graded, and the tutor took out a stack from last year to grade again."

"Why change last year's?"

"Find something to do."

Clara walked over to the writing desk and moved her wine glass a little away.

"I tried to persuade her to go to sleep at 10 o'clock, but she said she wasn't sleepy."

"I tried to persuade her again at midnight, and she said she would wait for you to come back."

Richard stood there, unsure of what to say.

"Help us, let's get her to bed," Clara said.

The two stood on opposite sides, Richard supporting her shoulder and Clara supporting her mentor's legs.

My aunt was even lighter than Richard had imagined; when she lifted her up, the hair that was sticking to her face slid down.

Isabella groggily opened her eyes and saw the familiar ceiling first.

Then she turned her face and saw her nephew.

Those eyes lingered on his face, their surprise quickly turning back into the listless, weary look of someone who had been drinking.

Isabella didn't struggle; instead, she leaned her head against Richard's arm again.

"...I'm back."

"Um."

She closed her eyes and mumbled something else.

"...the third declension...singular ablative...that batch ending in i..."

"Okay," Clara said helplessly.

"Don't think I'm asleep... I'm perfectly awake." Auntie kept talking.

The two men helped her onto the bed, and Clara took off her shoes and socks, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders.

Richard turned off the table lamp, leaving only a sliver of light from the window in the room.

He walked to the writing desk, picked up the wine glass, and looked at it.

"...This is the bottle I sent back from my fieldwork earlier this year." Clara glanced at him. "She didn't open it until last night."

At 7:40, Richard and Clara came out of the cafeteria, each carrying a tray.

Four servings of oatmeal porridge, four servings of bread, a small dish of pickled cucumbers, and a pitcher of fresh milk.

As I walked into the teachers' dormitory building, I bumped into a girl running from the other end of the corridor.

With her light blonde hair, she carried a paper bag in her arms, her two braids swinging behind her as she ran.

"Richard! Clara!"

"Keep your voice down," Clara said.

Sofia immediately lowered her voice.

"...The mentor hasn't woken up yet?"

"Not awake."

"She last night..."

"I lay on the table until 2 a.m.

Sofia exclaimed "Ah!" and hugged the paper package in her arms even tighter.

"I bought my advisor some new candy today."

She tore open a corner of the paper package to show them: a whole jar of toffee and a small bag of hard candy, the wrapper printed with irises.

"I waited in line for twenty minutes at that one in the western part of the capital."

"Are you still able to buy this this year?" Richard was a little surprised.

"They seem to have improved the recipe; I heard it's not as sweet as before."

The three of them walked through the corridor, opened the dormitory door a crack, and carefully went inside. The person on the bed was still asleep.

Clara placed the tray on the writing table and laid out the bowls one by one.

Sofia placed the jar of candy in the most conspicuous spot on the corner of the table, then moved it to the left, placing it where her mentor could easily reach it from his chair.

The three of them sat there silently, starving, waiting.

At exactly eight o'clock, a soft groan came from the other side of the bed.

Isabella lay motionless for about ten seconds before suddenly sitting up.

When I sat up, my head buzzed for a moment, and I held onto the edge of the bed for a while to recover.

She looked down at herself... her clothes were the same as yesterday's, and her shoes were neatly arranged by the bed, with the toes pointing outwards.

She never arranges her shoes with the toes pointing outwards.

She looked up and saw that the three people sitting at the writing desk were all looking at her.

"..."

Isabella's face slowly turned red.

"Good morning, mentor," Sophia said.

"……you."

"The porridge is still warm," Clara said.

"...When did you arrive?"

"I arrived at seven o'clock." Sophia blinked. "Clara was here last night."

Isabella saw the clean cup that was placed upside down on the windowsill.

"I didn't drink much!"

"You only took a small sip."

"...Yes, just a small sip!"

"The rest of the mouthful is in your stomach," Clara said.

Sofia burst out laughing, but covered her mouth halfway through.

Isabella turned and glared at her.

"What are you laughing at?"

I didn't laugh.

You smiled.

"I'm thinking about something."

The other two people obediently lowered their heads to drink their porridge.

After washing up, Isabella picked up the bowl of porridge, took a sip, and secretly glanced at her nephew as she drank.

Richard knew what his aunt was looking at.

"The matter is settled," he said proactively.

"Is it clean or not?"

"Clean".

Isabella took another sip of porridge.

"Then come to room 314 again this afternoon."

"What are you doing?"

"Do your homework. You still owe me two problems from last month."

"...Auntie."

"If you dare say you're tired..."

"I'll do it."

"That's more like it."

Sofia laughed gleefully from the side, but was called out halfway through her laughter.

"Sophia".

"……exist."

"Go and get the summer fieldwork roster from the department office."

Why?

I'm going to cross your name out.

"tutor!"

The faint laughter from inside the room drifted out and into the hallway.

Halfway through her porridge, Isabella suddenly remembered something.

She put down the bowl, took a document from the writing desk, and pushed it across the table.

Richard opened it.

Notification of Academic Review Results for the First Year of Preparatory Course.

He glanced at the bottom column: general courses, major courses, supplementary topics, and Associate Professor Croft's folklore course that no one wanted to take.

The bottom line:

"After deliberation by the department meeting, it was determined that the student has completed all the required credits for the preparatory stage and has achieved excellent academic results. Therefore, the student is permitted to apply for early graduation and directly enter the undergraduate program in the fall semester."

Richard raised his head.

"It came down last week," Isabella said.

"I've been holding back for a week, knowing you've been busy with other things these past few days."

She picked up the bowl.

"You're not busy now."

Sofia jumped up from her chair.

"Graduating early?!"

"sit down."

"Mentor, this is... the first one in recent years, right?"

"There was one two years ago," Clara said.

"That one transferred to the seminary, so it doesn't count," Sophia insisted. "This is the first one."

She turned to look at Richard, her eyes flashing with an alarming light.

"So you'll be taking classes with the undergraduate cohort in the fall?"

"...probably."

"Then you're finished," Sofia continued, gloating.

"In the first year of undergraduate studies, students in the field of epigraphy are required to write empirical manuscripts, and they are required to memorize the entire commentary on ritual texts."

And then there's Associate Professor Greer's course on Industry and Weaknesses; a third of the students failed it last year.

"I know."

"You don't know," Isabella said.

Richard raised his head.

"It's much harder than preparatory courses; you'll have to continue with Croft's course."

"...Why?"

"Because he talked about your pamphlet with someone in the department office last week."

Isabella took a sip of porridge.

"I told him, 'Aren't you looking for the co-signers of that booklet lately?'"

If several of us associate professors put our names on the list together, it should help alleviate some of the pressure on you.

Richard folded the document again, put it in his inner pocket, and finished the remaining half bowl of porridge.

"Sign it next Monday," Isabella said.

"I've already spoken to the academic affairs office."

"it is good."

"After we sign, we'll go home."

Richard raised his head.

"Your sister has been waiting for you to come home all week."

After she finished speaking, she reached out and took the jar of candy.

I opened the package, poured out one, peeled off the paper, and put it in my mouth.

"...The taste has changed a bit, but it's still okay."

"Mentor," Sophia said.

"what?"

"You haven't finished your breakfast yet."

"I know."

"Then why did you eat the candy first?"

Isabella took out another one and put it in her mouth.

"I'm happy today."