I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 493 Sphinx Camera

Evelyn started acting strange the night before the exam.

She laid out her gear several times in the guest room of Ashford House: an apron, two towels, the silver baking tool set her aunt had given her, a heart-shaped mold, and a notebook with a cake drawn on the cover in colored pencils.

As Richard passed by the door, he saw her struggling with an egg beater.

"Why are you bringing this? There are some in the exam room."

"The one in the exam room didn't feel right."

Evelyn stuffed the whisk into her bag, then took it out again.

"...Brother, are you really going tomorrow?"

"go."

"Maybe we shouldn't go." She put the whisk on the table.

"I'm not a child anymore, I know the way myself."

"I know you know the way."

"Then what are you going to do?"

Richard thought about it.

"I'll wait for you at the door."

The next morning at 8:10, the entrance to the red brick building was crowded with people.

There were more parents accompanying students to the exam than students taking it.

A mother squatted on the steps to re-tie her daughter's apron straps, while a father stood silently beside her, crumpling his hat in his hand.

A few candidates came alone, standing silently in the outermost circle with their bags.

Evelyn stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"Let's go in," Richard said.

Evelyn turned and ran up the steps, her apron straps swaying behind her. When she reached the door, she turned back and waved to him.

Richard sat down on the stone steps across the street.

Three and a half hours later, people began to walk out of the red brick building.

Richard stood up from the stone steps, and the candidates came out one by one.

Some were crying, some were walking out arm in arm, some squatted on the steps and refused to get up, and one girl rushed into her mother's arms as soon as she stepped out.

Evelyn was the last one to come out.

She came out with her head down, her apron off and in her hand, her hair a mess, and a small red burn mark on the back of her right hand.

He stood in front of Richard and his lips moved slightly.

"I think I bombed the test."

"How did you smash it?"

"...What I make doesn't look like dessert," she said.

"Everyone else makes those beautifully plated dishes, with icing sugar and painted flowers on top, but all I made was a plate of rabbits."

Richard stopped asking questions and took the apron from her hand.

"Let's go."

The two had walked a few steps north when someone called out from behind them.

"Feed...the one in the checkered apron!"

Evelyn turned around.

A round-faced girl rushed down the steps, panting heavily as she supported herself on her knees.

"I've finally caught up with you."

"Who are you……"

"I'm at the table next to yours," the round-faced girl said, catching her breath.

Polly Whittaker.

She raised her hand and pointed forcefully at Evelyn.

"The examiner ate two of your rabbits!"

"...What?"

"He glanced at the soufflé I made but didn't even pick up a fork."

Polly looked particularly indignant: "The guy who drew a swan out of icing in front of me, he smelled it and put it down."

Richard glanced at his sister's expression and felt that her worries were completely unfounded.

"Oh, right," Polly suddenly remembered.

"If we both get accepted, we'll be classmates. What's your name?"

Evelyn Williams.

Polly was somewhat surprised.

"...Williams?"

"What's wrong?"

Polly lifted the cloth bag higher and took a half-step closer.

"My sister goes to St. Bridge, and there was a rumor at her school recently about someone who went crazy, also named Williams."

Polly asked tentatively.

"Richard Williams of Imperial University, are you related to him?"

Evelyn lifted her chin: "He's my brother."

The girl opposite him stood there for a moment, then shook her head vigorously.

"Impossible."

"How is that impossible!" Evelyn exclaimed anxiously.

"Why would Richard Williams' sister be applying to culinary school?" Polly said with utter nonchalance.

"The daughter of that kind of family is definitely in preparatory school, and she might even get into Beijing University next year."

"You just happen to share the same surname... Williams. You could throw a stone anywhere on the street and hit a whole bunch of people with that surname."

Polly looked at Evelyn with the expression one would give a vain, spoiled child, which made Evelyn's face turn red with anger.

Richard, who was standing to the side, almost couldn't help but laugh. He walked away and stopped bothering the two girls.

"Okay." Evelyn took off her headband and crossed her arms.

"Then tell me, what have you heard?"

Polly immediately perked up.

"He single-handedly defeated the entire Eton College!"

"..."

"On Debate Week, five people from Eton went, and he won all of them by himself."

"He didn't refute the whole of Eton," Evelyn began to correct.

"That guy from Eton is Montagu, he's number one in the game."

"Doesn't that mean he lost?"

"That's the Cicero Cup, even though my brother came in second..." Evelyn said indignantly.

"But he overtook them during debate week and came in first place in the pre-college group."

Polly wouldn't listen to her at all, and started counting on her second finger.

"He was admitted to Beijing University through a special admissions program, and the director of the admissions office personally took the train to pick him up."

"Nonsense!" Evelyn frowned again. "He took the exam during the summer program and came in second."

"Second time again?"

"Second among the top students nationwide!"

"And there's more!" Polly's voice rose even higher.

"The award for the article 'Our Island' was presented by the King himself; the two shook hands, and there was also a prize of five hundred pounds."

"...It's fifty pounds." Evelyn said somewhat helplessly, "The award was presented by the Imperial Cultural Promotion Committee, not the King."

"There's also a gilded badge, I've seen it before, it's about this size." She gestured with her finger to indicate the size of a copper coin.

"Fifty pounds is a lot!" Polly exclaimed. "My dad doesn't even earn fifty pounds a year."

She opened the cloth bag in her arms and took out a small booklet with curled corners.

"And this too."

Evelyn's eyes flickered slightly when she saw the book, "Tales of the Strange".

"My sister gave it to me, and I'm wearing it today as a talisman." Polly held up the booklet.

"I heard that every police officer in the entire capital city has a copy of this book, and those who can't memorize it will be fined."

"There was no fine," Evelyn corrected. "The Interior Ministry purchased five thousand copies."

Polly hugged the booklet back to her arms, as if it were a sacred object.

"That song the kid was singing while jumping rope was his too, wasn't it? The one where he doesn't respond the first time, and doesn't respond the second time."

"He wrote the lyrics, and his classmate named him," Evelyn snorted.

"He was ashamed of himself and even wanted people to cross his name out."

"Why cross it out! Everyone on our street knows it, and I heard the Ministry of Education is going to include it in textbooks!"

"That's just something they spread falsely."

"The last one," Polly leaned closer, "I heard he's related to the Ashford family, that he's their illegitimate son."

"...What did you say?!?"

Evelyn was furious.

"He's my mother's biological son! My mother is from the Ashford family..."

She swallowed the rest of her sentence, choking herself in the process.

"...In short, he is not an illegitimate child."

Polly stared at her for a long time, her suspicion undiminished.

"You even made up such detailed stories about his family."

"I didn't make this up!"

"So he eats ten sandwiches and drinks a whole tub of milk in one sitting?"

Evelyn hesitated for a moment.

"...Six," she said reluctantly, "and more than half a bucket of milk."

"It really is!" Polly jumped up excitedly.

Evelyn then realized what she was saying and cleared her throat again.

"He's not as amazing as you guys say. In high school, he couldn't even run halfway through the 1000 meters before he had to lean against the wall."

"……what?"

"His aunt is an associate professor at the Imperial University of Peking." Evelyn pouted.

"I tutor him every day, forcing him to do stacks of test papers. If you had an associate professor aunt, you could do that too."

"That coat of his was a gift from my maternal grandfather; he couldn't afford to buy one for himself."

"The wool socks on my feet were knitted by me."

"He would study Latin until midnight, and if you listened through the door, it sounded like he was chanting a spell. Even the cat next door was afraid to go up to the windowsill."

After hearing this, Polly shook her head vigorously: "You're not his sister at all."

"I am!"

"If you were really his sister, would you say that about him?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to say about him!" Evelyn was so angry she couldn't find the words to say it.

"And if I say one word, he has to come running!"

Polly laughed: "Then go ahead and shout."

Evelyn turned around, pointed across the street, and said, "He's right there..."

Polly looked over and saw three people sitting on the stone steps across the street: a fat man selling lemonade, an old lady carrying a basket, and a young man in a white shirt.

The young man had a girl's apron draped over his arm and was popping cherries into his mouth.

The cherry ball rolled around on the tip of the tongue, looking absolutely hilarious.

Polly watched for a while, then gave Evelyn a look that said, "I understand, you don't need to say anymore," and patted her on the shoulder understandingly.

"It's okay, my sister also likes to make up stories."

She told her class that she had seen Monsieur Montagu's carriage, but it was actually a coal wagon.

Evelyn clenched her fists at her sides.

Just then, someone shouted from the street corner.

"...Polly! Polly!"

A tall girl ran over.

"Sis!" Polly's face immediately fell. "You're twenty minutes late!"

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry," Marjorie Whittaker gasped, supporting herself on her knees.

"I promise I won't oversleep next time."

"You said the same thing last time!"

The two sisters argued for half a minute on the street.

Then Polly suddenly remembered something and shoved Evelyn forward.

"Sis, look at this... a friend I just met."

"What's wrong?"

"She said she was Richard Williams' sister."

Marjorie looked up and smiled politely at Evelyn.

"That's quite a coincidence."

"sister!"

"There are plenty of people with the surname Williams," Marjorie said, adjusting her hat. "There are several Williams students at our school."

Evelyn stood there, her chest heaving.

Then she turned around and shouted across the street, "Brother!"

The young man from across the street then strolled over leisurely.

"I saved some cherries for you, you can eat them when you get back."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and gave a slight bow to the two girls.

"My sister just finished her exams today, and she didn't speak very tactfully. Please don't take it to heart."

Polly was about to say, "See, what did I tell you?"

Before she could even finish speaking, all the textbooks in her sister's arms fell to the ground.

"!!!"

"sister?"

"The last debate week, the Iliad Building," Marjorie's voice trembled.

"Our class watched the entire third debate in the afternoon."

Richard raised an eyebrow: "...Thank you."

Marjorie bent down abruptly, picked up the textbook from the ground, and pulled out a clipping from the supplement of the "Capital Evening Post".

"This..." She held up the paper, her hand trembling so much that the paper made a rustling sound.

"Your article was read aloud in class by our literature teacher."

Polly stared at her sister, then at the young man in the white shirt, her mouth agape.

"……sister."

"Shut up."

"Sis, didn't you mention that person..."

"I told you to shut up."

Marjorie carefully tucked the clipping back into the book, then straightened her hat and gave Richard a proper ladylike bow.

Evelyn stood beside her, holding the bag of cherries, her chin held so high she could barely see the road ahead.

Before leaving, Polly chased after them, clutching the booklet.

"Sir! Could you... sign your name here?"

Richard glanced down at the booklet; the editor's name wasn't on the cover.

"There were no names on this, so I can't write them on it."

"That……"

He thought for a moment, then took out a pen and wrote a line on the blank space of the title page.

Polly looked down.

That line read: "Dawn breaks, the guest departs, then you can cry again."

There's only one letter at the bottom: "L."

Even after the two sisters had walked far south, Polly's voice still drifted back.

"Sis, why didn't you say so sooner!"

"I told you, but you wouldn't listen!"

"You overslept and you still have the nerve to complain!"

Richard stood there, watching the two figures turn the corner.

Before I knew it, I had become someone who could be talked about by word of mouth.

"See?" Evelyn said from the side.

"What did you see?"

"You'll come running the moment I call you."

That evening's dinner was served in the large dining room of Ashford House.

My aunt brought two students over, and Sophia hugged Evelyn as soon as she entered the door.

"How did you do on the exam? How did you do on the exam!"

"have no idea."

"How could I not know!"

"I really don't know." Evelyn didn't stand on ceremony and pressed her little head hard against Sophia's chest, causing Sophia to let go in pain.

"The examiner didn't say a single kind word from beginning to end!"

Clara chimed in from the side, "My advisor does the same thing when grading papers."

"Clara!" Auntie was a little annoyed.

"I'm telling the truth."

Halfway through the meal, the butler poured Gerald a glass of wine.

The old man rarely drank alcohol this year. After coughing up blood last winter, he locked up the wine cabinet at home.

Today he picked up that cup, and the butler beside him opened his mouth but said nothing.

Gerrard took a sip.

Evelyn.

"Grandpa?"

"What's the name of that thing you made today?"

Evelyn glanced at her brother.

"...Professor Rabbit."

………………

After finishing his meal, Richard went back to his room and retrieved the Sphinx lamp.

The lamp was scalding hot all day. Richard initially thought it was just because of the heat, but it almost made him look foolish when he ate dinner.

Richard placed the lamp on the tablecloth and stepped back a little.

The bronze mask had become smooth and lustrous from his handling over the past year, and the features of the Sphinx's face were clearly visible, with its eyes half-closed, giving the impression that it was too lazy to care about the world.

The three wavy lines above my forehead have closed up tonight.

Ether surged rapidly from the lamp, rushing up his right arm and crashing into the Sun Throne.

Richard's first reaction was to reject it, and he stopped just as he was about to start the breathing exercise.

This is not a foreign object; all the ether I nurtured in it day by day over this period has now returned.

[Spiritual Appearance] suddenly surged back to 50/50, and the micro-circulation of etheric circuits was also constantly being flushed and growing...

When all the changes stopped, the eyes of the human face in the center of the lamp opened.

Richard felt a tightness in his chest and had to lean on the edge of the table to catch his breath.

Once the stuffiness subsided, he looked up and realized something was wrong with the room.

The yellow stains from the moisture on the wallpaper were still there, as were the ink bottle, half a piece of scrap paper, and the bag of cherries Evelyn had given him back... all of them.

But it all looks like it was split in half and then rearranged, with an extra layer of shadow at the edges.

He tried blinking, and the double image in his vision blinked along with it.

Richard raised his hands, separating his index fingers and thumbs, and subconsciously made a square in front of his eyes... He couldn't explain why he made that gesture; his hands moved on their own.

"Crack!"

The crisp, clear sound was exactly the same as when Sofia pressed the shutter button on the Colton 120 that she had given herself.

A photograph has appeared next to the ink bottle on the table.

Richard picked it up, and on it was the scene he had just seen: an ink bottle, scrap paper, a cherry bag, two cherry stems sticking out of the bag's opening... too clear to be true.

Richard turned it over; there was a picture on the back as well.

The same scene, but everything had changed color.

The ink bottle was the brightest on this side, the cherry bag was empty, and the words on the scrap paper seemed to float on the surface.

This scene likely represents the side behind the curtain.

Richard held the photo, scratched his head, and didn't know what to say.

The Sphinx lamp has completed its second transformation, taking a big step towards mastery, which is a great thing.

But the many doubts in his heart made him unable to feel happy at the moment.

Logically, once a uniquely named object undergoes a transformation, it should move one step closer to its owner.

His first transformation gave him a wide-ranging mirror that could automatically reflect his image behind the curtain.

That ability is incredibly useful. Just by poking the shadow onto the shallows, it can capture a range of events dozens of times greater than normal perception, all without attracting any attention.

What did this transformation bring him?

Richard raised his hand and made a square shape with his fingers, pointing it at the curtains.

"Crack!"

The second one is on the table. The front shows the folds of the curtains, while the back, at the other end of the curtain, remains unchanged.

Curtains aren't anything special; there's not much to see on the other side anyway.

He compared his shoes to his own.

"Crack!"

He made another gesture towards the gargoyle on the bedside table.

This one is more interesting. The gargoyle on the back looks more honest and simple than the actual gargoyle, and its fangs have been retracted.

Just like the test I did when I named it, this is an honest gargoyle.

After taking three photographs, he discovered a pattern: taking photographs consumes ether, and the more ether is on the other side of the curtain, the more ether he needs to take a picture of it.

Richard laid the three photos in a row and stared at them for a long time, resting his chin on his hand.

"...So, I got a Polaroid camera?"

Even portable cameras are still relatively new to the market, let alone instant cameras.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong.

He does have a camera, though.

The Colton 120 that Sophia, a senior student, managed to scrape together from her research funds last year, was lying in the side pocket of her canvas bag.

I followed him through the western suburbs, through places like Yingkekeng and Heigou... That machine didn't need to burn ether; you could just load up the film and start shooting. After shooting, you could soak it in some chemicals and it would be ready.

On the other side of the curtain, senior Clara also gave her a rubbing machine.

This rubbing machine has also played an important role in several recent events.

But now, the key ability for this second transformation is only photography?

...Although it's a double-sided photo.

Richard sighed softly, folded his hands behind his head, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

The ceiling was clean and tidy, without the crack that usually appears in slag heaps.

"...It is indeed convenient." He looked at the ceiling and muttered to himself.

"No need for film or soaking in medicine, and no need for rubbing paper or ether condensate either. I can just point with my fingers and I have it all."

Richard sighed again. This crucial breakthrough had only resulted in a camera/rubbing machine that didn't require buying film. To be honest, he wasn't very satisfied.

The next morning, Richard was woken up by Evelyn banging on the door.

"Brother! You're still sleeping!"

"……What time is it."

"8:30!"

"Your exam results won't be available for three days, will they?"

"I don't care! I can't sleep!"

Richard opened the door a crack.

My younger sister stood in the corridor, holding a plate in her hand, her hair all sticking up.

"Try this."

"What is this?"

"I tried the new one this morning." She pushed the plate forward.

"Polly said the examiner ate two, and I want to know which one it was."

"You made a batch yesterday and numbered them all."

Evelyn was very serious: "I have to recreate them all, eating them one by one. When I find one that tastes the same as the one in the exam room, I'll know which one it is."

Richard looked down at the plate, in which lay a gingerbread rabbit, its hat askew and about to fall off.

"...If I eat this, you'll have one less sample, won't you?"

Evelyn paused for half a second, then decisively picked up the plate: "...Then I won't give it to you."

Sofia and Clara were at the breakfast table again.

Isabella was taking two students to the department to submit their fieldwork settlement forms today, and on the way, she casually slipped them into Ashford's restaurant.

Richard sat at the corner of the table, not saying much.

He put the three photos in his inner pocket; you could feel a small, stiff stack of them through his shirt.

Gerrard noticed it first and gave his grandson a wink.

After dinner, Margaret sensed that the group had something to say, so she pulled Evelyn away beforehand.

"There was some noise in your room last night." Gerald put down his knife and fork.

"...You felt it?"

"I get up at night to get a drink of water," Gerald nodded.

Richard showed the three photos to everyone.

Clara was the first to reach out.

She picked up the top one, flipped it over, looked at the front for two seconds, and then flipped it over to the back.

When I looked at the back, those deep brown eyes slowly widened.

"...Is this from the same moment?"

"At the same time".

"The front is the material world, the back is the veil side."

"right."

Clara put the photo down and took a very thin probe from her handbag, then touched it with the photograph.

"This is not paper."

"It's not copper either," Richard explained.

"I tried it last night. It wouldn't melt with fire, it wouldn't soften with water, and I could only scrape off a little bit of ash with a knife."

"However, its material is not very hard, and it disintegrates immediately when it encounters an attack involving ether, so it cannot be used as a weapon."

Isabella reached out and took the third picture, the one of the gargoyles.

"This side." She pointed to the back with her pen.

"The direction of the ether on this gargoyle does not match that in the rubbing."

"Why doesn't it match?"

Isabella explained, "The rubbing only captures the cross-section at that moment."

She held the sheet up to the light in the window.

"This... is still flowing; the density of this small piece of ether is changing."

Isabella squinted: "It's very slow, so slow that you wouldn't notice unless you stared at it for half a minute."

Richard also noticed it last night, but he wasn't sure if he was seeing things.

"So it's not a photograph," Clara said softly.

"This was a time that was blocked off and progressed very slowly."

No one spoke in the restaurant, and at that moment Sofia raised her hand.

"that……"

"What's wrong?"

Can it take pictures of people?

Richard raised his head.

"...I didn't try it last night."

Why not give it a try?

"Because I was the only one in the house last night."

Sofia said "Oh," then slumped onto the table, blinking her big eyes.

"There are several people here now."

At nine o'clock in the morning, the row of holly bushes in the backyard had already been set up.

The housekeeper had to move the chair three times.

Gerald sat in the center, his back straight, with Margaret to his right and Isabella to his left.

Evelyn stood behind her mother, still clutching a gingerbread rabbit she hadn't finished eating.

Sofia and Clara stood on the far right, with Sofia tugging at Clara's collar as she stood.

"Clara, your buttocks are sticking up."

"Don't worry about it."

"Mr. Butler," Evelyn turned around, "you come in too."

The butler hugged the tray to his chest and took a half step back.

"Miss, this is against the rules."

"You've been in this family for forty years."

The old man stood there for a long time before finally putting the tray on the stone bench and standing in the last row.

Richard took out the Colton 120 as a cover for its ability to be activated.

Evelyn immediately frowned: "Why don't you come in for a photo and have someone else take the picture for you?"

"This one won't do. Sophia changed the lens when she gave it to me." Richard lowered his head and pretended to twist the lens barrel. He could lie so easily these days.

"You have to manually control the aperture and hold down the shutter button for three counts; other people don't know how."

"What if you can't get the image in?" Evelyn asked.

"I'll print another one later. The butler will press the button for the second one. I'll stand in here."

"I'll take a picture of you guys first."

"Little Evelyn, stand still!" Sophia quickly helped Richard cover up his lie.

"This is really hard to press! I ruined an entire roll last time! All twelve sheets were wasted!"

Clara put her hand on Sophia's shoulder and chimed in, "I've repaired this machine before; only Richard knows how to use it."

Evelyn saw that they were all saying the same thing, so she shut her mouth.

Richard activated the Mirror Condensation Technique, and the ether in the backyard spread out along the still water.

Holly bushes, brick walls, geese refusing to go into the pond, clouds smeared with coal smoke from the sky... all fell in.

Lastly, it's about people.

"Don't move."

"Crack!"

The shutter really clicked.

At the same instant, all the ether within the microcirculation was emptied, and then the extraction from the spirit form immediately began.

[Spiritual Appearance 50/50] → [Spiritual Appearance 1/50]

Everything in the backyard moved to the side, and Richard felt a buzzing in his ears.

He immediately realized that he had overestimated his own ether reserves by trying to incorporate Gerald's expertise into his own scheme, and had gone awry!

You can even feel the Sphinx lamp emitting heat, almost burning out.

"elder brother!"

Evelyn rushed out of the crowd and grabbed his arm.

"Your face has turned pale!"

"He didn't eat enough for breakfast." Margaret walked over, put her hand on her son's forehead and touched it, naturally helping to cover up the lie.

"Sunbathing so early in the morning can easily make you dizzy!" Sofia exclaimed.

"I was on the other side of the sea for a while too! There was this one time I was standing there and just..."

"Sophia".

"……sorry."

Evelyn didn't let go, and looked down at the camera still hanging around Richard's neck.

"The shutter clicked rather slowly just now."

"It's a slow shutter speed," Richard said with difficulty.

Evelyn stared at him for a moment, then released her grip: "Can we take a second picture?"

The second photo was taken by the butler. The old man's hands were shaking so badly that Sofia had to teach him how to do it several times.

"Snap!" This one was taken with real film.

"How long will it take to pick it up?"

"Take it to that photo studio on Central Street, it should take eleven days to develop the photos."

After the photos were taken, Margaret sent Evelyn upstairs to catch up on her sleep, leaving only those associated with the mystical side in the backyard.

Richard took the photo out of the inner pocket; the front of it showed the group of people from the courtyard.

Gerald stood ramrod straight, Margaret had her hand on her daughter, and Evelyn had crumbs on her lips.

Sofia's eyes disappeared from laughing, while Clara's collar was turned up to one side;

The butler stood in the last row, placed the tray down, and didn't know where to put his hands.

Richard flipped the photo over; the main event was about to begin.

When he saw the other side, his eyes widened.

The positions of the people in the courtyard on the other side haven't changed, but the living people on this side don't look quite human anymore.

Gerald's ethereal color was frighteningly thick, and his body was covered with marks from being carved and cleaved.

Although Isabella was far inferior, there were also read texts and ancient books floating around her;

Margaret's area went completely dark, and a broken line spun in place.

Clara is clearly a bit better than Sofia, but she hasn't shown much in the practitioner stage.

Evelyn, on the other hand, was completely clean and had nothing on her.

In the photo, there were actually several more people in the back row.