I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Richard took the business card and glanced at it.

Thick cardstock, simple layout, similar in style to my aunt Isabella's.

The front is printed with: Albert Clement, Independent Antiquities Authenticator.

Below is the store address and a phone number.

The back is blank, except for a simple line drawing of a copper kettle printed in the lower right corner, exactly the same as the one on the wooden sign at the entrance.

He flipped through the business cards: "Mr. Clement, it is customary for me to return one to you."

"But I don't have any business cards yet."

Clement paused for a moment, then found it somewhat amusing:

"You can give me your business cards when you're qualified to print them."

"Then you might have to wait several years."

"I can wait, old man." The old man folded the oilcloth twice and placed it in the corner of the counter.

"I've been sitting in this alley for years, and I haven't even changed the wooden sign at the entrance. Look how peeling the paint is."

"I noticed that," Richard nodded.

"When I came here last time, I thought to myself, if that sign isn't repainted soon, people passing by won't even be able to recognize the words."

"It's good that they can't recognize it." The old man snorted. "It saves those clueless people from barging in and asking me if I buy old bed frames."

"Last time, someone brought me a rusty coal shovel, saying it was an antique passed down from their ancestors, and asked me to appraise it."

I looked at it for a long time and told him that it was just a coal shovel.

He still didn't believe it, insisting that the patterns on the shovel handle were ancient inscriptions.

"Is it an inscription?"

"It's because the flash left by the mold wasn't properly sanded off." The old man laughed in exasperation.

Richard couldn't help but chuckle.

The atmosphere, which had been solemn just moments before, suddenly relaxed, returning to the tone it had been when he first stepped into the shop.

An old man and a young man sized each other up across the counter, neither taking the other too seriously.

Richard picked up the oil lamp and put the business card into his inside pocket.

"Mr. Clement, once I have my own business cards, I will definitely send them to you as soon as possible."

The old man responded and went back to his own business.

………………

Stepping out of the antique shop, Li felt much more relaxed after joking around with the old man.

The oil lamp was wrapped in two layers of oil paper and weighed heavily on the bottom of the bag, making the center of gravity slightly off when walking.

As he walked, he processed the conversation he had just had in his mind.

Once Clement's channel is established, his efficiency in acquiring rare items will increase several orders of magnitude compared to trying his luck on the streets.

In fact, from the explanations in his grandfather's study to the scattered hints in "On Ascents Through the Curtain," and combined with Clement's suggestion just now, he had gained a basic understanding of the strange objects.

The reason this Sphinx oil lamp failed to sell at auction was ostensibly due to its unclear function, excessively long appraisal period, and the client's inability to wait.

But the underlying reason is that no one dares to open the seal on it rashly.

He mentally reclassified the known uses of strange objects.

The first type is used to store ether to aid in cultivation.

The second category is the carrier of signature. Although signature is not a ritual, it is the foundation of all subsequent rituals.

The third category is spellcasting materials.

The crystal ball of a medium, the tarot cards of a fortune teller, the crucible and still of an alchemist... tools are elevated to mediums, and mediums are elevated to wondrous objects.

After a sufficiently long period of time and a sufficiently deep immersion, strange objects may even develop semi-autonomous functions.

This is probably why the silver coin Mr. Hutton gave himself could have points absorbed by the panel.

The fourth category is sealing devices.

A scene suddenly flashed into Richard's mind.

Divination disc.

Looking back now, why did the candle go out back then?

His scientific explanation at the time temporarily fooled Warren and his classmates, but it couldn't fool himself.

Ether is deposited deep within the wood fibers, like layers of silt and sand accumulating on a riverbed, always carrying some unclean things along with it.

The panel appears to have been converted into usable points, without any side effects or residue.

But then again, what if this strange object has a trigger trap?

I need to be more careful in the future and not reach out to touch everything I see. I need to focus on developing my sensory abilities.

As he was thinking, he had already walked to the department store branch on Grafton Street.

Richard paused in front of the shop window.

Last time Evelyn and I went to look at gloves, my sister stared at the window for a long time, but in the end she could only look and not buy.

He remembered that the sleeves of her coat were too short, and her exposed wrists were red from the cold wind.

And those tight little leather shoes, after that trip to Beijing, the inside of the heels were already worn with white marks.

As I pushed open the door, the copper bell rang.

The shop was warm, with coal burning in the fireplace, and the air smelled of fabric and mothballs mixed together.

A female shop assistant in an apron peeked out from behind the counter: "What would you like to buy, sir?"

"Shoes and coats for teenage girls."

"How old exactly?"

"Fifteen years old."

"What's your height? How big are your feet?"

Richard mentally visualized his sister's figure and recalled how tight her socks were when she wore them.

"It's about up to my ears, and the feet... are a size smaller than mine."

The shop assistant took several pairs of shoes from the rack and placed them on the counter.

Bristol is not the capital city, and the department stores have a limited selection of goods, but the basic styles are all available.

Richard's gaze swept back and forth between the pairs of shoes twice.

Too flashy is no good. Evelyn goes to school and does housework every day, and her shoes have to be replaced every three months when the soles become too thin.

Too plain a dress won't do either. That girl says she doesn't care what she wears, but she always takes a second look whenever she passes by a shop window.

Finally, he chose a pair of dark chestnut lace-up ankle boots with cowhide uppers and soles that were about two centimeters thicker than typical women's shoes, with a thin layer of wool sewn on the inside.

"How much are these?"

"Three shillings and sixpence."

It's a bit pricey, but the quality is undeniable, and it'll last for at least several winters.

Richard turned the shoes over and examined the stitching on the sole. The stitches were even, and there was no excess glue at the joints.

"Okay, I'll take it."

The coat took longer to make.

Girls' autumn and winter coats come in several price ranges, with the most expensive fur coats costing several pounds and the cheapest cotton-lined coats costing just over three shillings.

He flipped through five or six items on the middle shelf.

"How about this one?" The sales clerk took a gray-blue tweed short coat off the hanger and unfolded it on the counter.

The coat is tailored to fit the waist, has four black toggle buttons on the front, and the collar can be turned up to block the wind.

The inner lining is cotton fleece, the shoulder line is very straight, and the cuffs have enough room to fit, so even if you grow a year older, you can still wear it.

"This one costs five shillings."

"How about four shillings?" he asked habitually, starting to haggle.

"Sir, this item cost more than three shillings... four shillings and sixpence, let's round it up with the shoes."

Richard calculated that the shoes and coat together cost eight shillings.

In the past, he would have chatted with the shop assistant for ages.

First, find fault with the product, then compare it with similar products, and finally use "I'll go check out the store next door" as the trump card.

However, the pricing system of department stores is different from that of street shops.

The price tags are printed and pasted on. The staff has limited authority, and after a lot of haggling, they might only be able to give you a penny or two at most.

Besides, after what happened this morning, he wasn't in the mood to go back and forth over two copper coins.

"Okay, wrap it up for me."