I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The shop assistant packed the shoes into a cardboard box, folded them up with the coat, and put them in a paper bag.

Richard carried a paper bag in one hand and a satchel containing an oil lamp on his back in the other.

As I left the department store, a light drizzle began to fall.

The autumn rain in Briston was fine and dense, and the curtain of water stretched from the eaves, soaking the entire street.

He tucked the paper package inside his coat to protect it and walked quickly with his head down.

By the time I got to my doorstep, the rain had soaked my hair and seeped through the back of my shirt.

Pushing open the door, I heard the sizzling sound of a frying pan coming from the kitchen.

Evelyn, wearing an apron, stood in front of the stove, frying hash browns with practiced ease.

"You're back? Why are you so wet?" She turned her head to the side, the spatula still hanging in mid-air.

It's raining.

"Aren't you bringing an umbrella?"

It wasn't raining when I left home.

Evelyn pursed her lips and scooped the fried hash browns into a plate.

Richard placed his schoolbag on the low stool by the door.

The oil lamp was too heavy to be placed casually, so he bent down to steady his schoolbag before straightening up.

"What are you carrying?" His sister's gaze fell on the large paper bag in his hand.

"nice one."

"What good stuff?"

"For you."

Evelyn casually tossed the spatula into the pot and hurried over without even taking off her apron.

Richard placed the paper package on the table and untied the string.

The paper bag was opened, revealing a gray-blue tweed.

Evelyn's hand froze in mid-air; she didn't touch it immediately.

"This is……"

"Here's the coat I bought for you." Richard turned the box over as well. "And the shoes we agreed on before."

He opened the cardboard box, and the dark chestnut-colored ankle boots were neatly arranged inside the thin paper.

Evelyn stood by the table, clutching the hem of her apron in both hands.

The girl glanced at the coat and shoes, then turned to her brother: "Did you use the prize money from the competition?"

"Six shillings only." He winked, deliberately underreporting by two shillings.

"Six shillings is money too!" Evelyn's voice rose, the oil in the pan still sizzling.

She went around to the front of the stove and turned off the fire, then turned around and put her hands on her hips.

"Why are you buying me clothes? Your shirt collar is frayed and you haven't even replaced it."

"I don't care," Richard said casually.

Evelyn opened her mouth, but swallowed the words that were about to come out.

She looked back at the things on the table.

She can tell the quality of a coat at a glance: the shoulder line is straight, the cuff width is just right, and the fabric feels thick and solid.

Needless to say, the shoes are also very durable, with thick soles and wool linings, making them the kind of shoes that can be worn for several winters.

This guy definitely undervalued it; the jacket and shoes together are definitely not something you can buy for six shillings.

"How did you know what size I wear?" She didn't press the issue.

"When you wore my socks, they were a size too big, so I used the push-up method."

Evelyn took the boots out of the box, twirled them in her hand, and then put her right foot into the boots.

The toes weren't squeezed to the tip of the shoe, the arch of the foot fit perfectly, and the shoe opening was above the ankle, neither too loose nor too tight.

She took two steps, the soles of her shoes making a crisp tapping sound on the kitchen floor tiles.

"……just."

"That's good."

Evelyn changed into the other shoe and walked back and forth in the kitchen a few steps.

She picked up her coat from the table, shook it out, and put it on by the collar, then walked to the full-length mirror in the foyer.

In the mirror, the gray-blue tweed made the brown hair look very shiny.

The fitted waist makes the figure look neat and clean, and the stand-up collar just covers the back of the neck, the part most susceptible to cold.

Evelyn turned left and then right in front of the mirror.

"Brother, is it pretty?" she called out towards the kitchen.

"Look at yourself in the mirror."

"I'm watching! I'm asking you if you think it's good or not."

"Of course it looks good! How could it not look good when I bought it?"

"...Can you please stop being so perfunctory?"

Richard came out of the kitchen with a teacup in his hand, leaned against the door frame, and watched his sister compare herself to herself in the mirror.

Wearing a new coat and new ankle boots, Evelyn looked no different from the girls in fashion magazines.

Her fair skin, brown hair, and gray eyes were accentuated by the blue-gray fabric, making her breathtakingly beautiful.

Looking at his sister's smiling face, Richard felt all the lingering gloom in his heart completely dissipate.

"You can fold the collar down." He took a sip of tea. "It looks better when it's not too cold."

Evelyn turned her collar up and then turned it back up.

Flip it down, then stand it up again. Flip it down, then stand it up again.

"Stop flipping it, you'll tear the collar if you keep doing that."

Evelyn finally stopped and took one last look at herself in the mirror.

Slowly unbutton the four toggle buttons, take off the coat and fold it neatly.

"elder brother."

"Um?"

"Thank you."

"But could you please let me know before you spend any money in the future?"

Richard chuckled and put the teacup back in the kitchen.

Evelyn carried the folded coat upstairs, but turned back at the corner of the stairs.

"elder brother."

"What's wrong now?"

"You really need to change your shirt. I'll get it ready for you tomorrow."

"Need not."

"You have to change. You're someone of importance now."

"The Cicero Cup runner-up, who's going to be a tutor, dressed in such shabby clothes."

Richard instinctively wanted to say, "What I wear is none of your business."

But after a moment's thought, I swallowed back those hurtful words.

Moreover, the younger sister's logic is also sound.

He was about to get tutoring jobs through the Classical Society's recommendation list, and dressing presentably was a basic requirement when dealing with wealthy families.

"...Then can you take a look for me?"

Evelyn nodded in satisfaction, then took her coat and went upstairs.

Footsteps thumped on the floor for a while, followed by the sound of a wardrobe door being opened and closed.

It's probably about finding a good place to hang up the new coat.

Richard heated up the remaining potato cakes in the kitchen and ate them with tea.

After a while, footsteps sounded again, and the girl came downstairs wearing her new shoes.

The "tap-tap-tap" sound came from the stairs all the way to the kitchen door.

"Why are you wearing it again?"

"Try wearing it to see if it's suitable for doing housework."

"Washing dishes while wearing new shoes?"

"Shoes are meant to be worn; putting them in a box won't magically make them fit."

As she spoke, she tied her apron back around her waist and walked to the sink to start washing the pot.

The soles of the new ankle boots made a rhythmic thud on the wet kitchen floor tiles.

Richard watched his sister put on an apron and new boots as she washed the dishes and felt that the eight shillings were well spent.

A while later, my father came home from get off work, smelling of coal dust.

My mother woke up, and her complexion was better than in the morning, but her voice was still hoarse.

Evelyn was wearing her new ankle boots when she set the table, and her mother was the first to notice.

"Evelyn, are those shoes you're wearing new?"

"Um."

"Where did the money come from?"

Evelyn pointed with her spoon at Richard, who was burying his head in his soup across from her.

The mother glanced at her son but said nothing.

The father put down the newspaper.

"And a coat," Evelyn added from the side.

"How much is the total?"

"Six shillings".

The father mentally calculated something and sensed something was wrong. His lips moved, but in the end he only picked up his teacup and took a sip, which was taken as tacit agreement.

The dining table was quiet for a while.

Richard's mother pushed a plate of pickled cucumbers in front of him: "What about you? Would you like to change your shirt?"

"Evelyn will help me look at it tomorrow."

Evelyn, with bread stuffed in her mouth, mumbled a reply.

"You two siblings have already discussed it all." The mother coughed lightly twice, but her eyes were filled with a smile.