Back in the faculty office, Mr. Holland was rummaging through the bookshelf on the wall behind him.
"The competition is a month away. Just memorizing excerpts from the textbook won’t be enough."
He took three books from the shelf and stacked them on the desk.
"These three are supplemental materials. Take one home to read."
Richard glanced at the spines.
The first was a complete annotated collection of Cicero’s speeches, thick enough to be used as a brick.
The second was an introduction to rhetoric, covering the classical system of public speaking techniques, from breath control to standardized gestures.
The third book had a rather long title: *From the Sanctuary to the Pulpit: The Evolution of Religious Ritual Language in Classical Rhetoric*.
Richard chose the third book immediately.
The evolution of religious ritual language—the topic spanned both religious studies and linguistics.
’If the coded language system in Appendix C isn’t an isolated case, then I’ll need this kind of reference book when I encounter similar hidden texts in the future.’
’A reference book like this could help me trace the original meaning of terms back to their etymological roots and determine whether a word is common Latin or the jargon of a specific sect.’
"I’ll take the third one."
Mr. Holland scratched his Mediterranean Sea.
Most students would have chosen the first or second book—one to score points, the other for technique.
He had just grabbed the third one at random. It was a purely academic work, and its usefulness for the competition was the most indirect.
"Are you sure?"
"I’m sure."
"Alright then, suit yourself."
As Richard took it, the book felt heavy in his hands. The paper was high quality, and the lead-type print was sharp; it must have been a rather expensive book.
"Sir, this book wasn’t cheap, was it?"
"It wasn’t. I had to pull some strings with an old classmate to get it. You can’t find it in a typical bookstore."
Mr. Holland pushed the other two books back onto the shelf and said without turning his head:
"The book’s a gift. Take it home and wear it out. The more tattered it gets, the better."
Richard’s performance just now had made him look good in front of his colleagues, so this was a reward of sorts.
"Thank you, sir."
Richard left the office and walked down the hallway toward the stairs.
[Scholarship Lv.1] Progress: 71%
The practice lecture just now, combined with his conversation with Mr. West, had boosted the experience by several points.
’High-density knowledge output and immediate feedback are indeed more efficient than passively listening to a lecture.’
He hitched his schoolbag up, his steps a little lighter than when he had arrived.
「Wednesday morning, before the sky had fully brightened.」
In a state between sleep and wakefulness, Richard felt a burning heat in his chest, as if a warmed copper kettle was being pressed between his ribs.
As air filled his lungs, he faintly heard a sound coming from within his chest cavity.
The panel popped up.
[Breathing Lv.2] Progress: 0%
He took a few more deep breaths on the bed, trying to feel the change.
The air seemed to enter his trachea faster, and there was less resistance as it flowed through the forks of his bronchial tubes.
To sum it up in one sentence: his breathing efficiency had improved.
Each breath could bring in a little more oxygen and expel a little more waste gas.
The result was that just lying in bed, his mind felt clearer than usual.
In the past, he would have a few minutes of grogginess every morning when he woke up, like a computer waiting for its hard drive to spin up.
Today, that groggy period was almost nonexistent.
Richard threw off the covers, sat up, and rested on the edge of the bed for a moment.
His sleep quality was poor; he would wake up once or twice in the middle of the night, sometimes from his own coughing.
But last night, he had slept soundly until morning.
The [Sleep] Skill hadn’t been unlocked yet, but with his Breathing optimized, the improved oxygen supply during sleep likely boosted his body’s nighttime recovery efficiency.
’There are indirect synergies between Skills.’
He picked up the notebook from his bedside table and drew a simple relationship diagram on a blank page:
Breathing → Oxygen Supply → Sleep Quality → Energy → Learning Efficiency → Scholarship Experience
[Breathing] affects sleep quality, sleep quality affects daytime energy, daytime energy affects learning efficiency, and learning efficiency, in turn, affects [Scholarship] experience accumulation.
’If Level 3 [Breathing]’s Healing could truly achieve "gradual recovery from chronic illness," its indirect impact would be enormous.’
’With a body that is constantly self-repairing, my maximum energy will be raised indefinitely.’
’The time and intensity I can devote to studying, training, and working each day will increase, and consequently, the leveling speed of all my Skills will rise as well.’
When he went downstairs, his Mother was already in the kitchen.
"You seem to be in good spirits today," Margaret said, glancing at him.
"Yeah, I slept really well last night."
"That’s rare." His Mother was a little surprised. "You used to cough for a long time in the middle of the night. It’s gotten a little better these past two weeks, but you still coughed a bit."
"Maybe the weather’s gotten a little warmer."
In early autumn Brighton, the temperature had actually dropped a little over the past few days.
But his Mother didn’t press the issue, simply placing bread and tea on the table.
His father wasn’t down yet, and the sound of rummaging through chests and cupboards came from Evelyn’s room. She was probably looking for something.
Richard sat at the dining table and took a sip of his tea.
’Once Scholarship reaches Lv. 2, my knowledge absorption efficiency will go up another notch.’
’At that point, my preparations for the Cicero Cup, the follow-up books to Appendix C, and the copy of *From the Sanctuary to the Pulpit* that Mr. Holland gave me will all enter a more efficient digestion cycle.’
’And then there’s that Sphinx Oil Lamp.’
’Warren was covering lunch, and Grey was covering breakfast. With those two expenses eliminated, I can save all the pocket money I would have originally spent on Eating.’
’But a two-pound difference is too great. No matter how much I save from my allowance, it won’t be enough. I’ll still have to rely on the Cicero Cup.’
The sound of Evelyn’s footsteps came from the stairs.
The girl plopped down onto a chair, flicked her braid behind her back, and reached for the bread.
She glanced at Richard out of the corner of her eye, a little curious.
"Bro, your complexion looks a lot better today."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, you’ve got some color in your face."
She broke off a piece of bread and spread marmalade on it, her movements deft and quick.
"It couldn’t be because..." she said in a low voice, a subtle expression on her face.
Richard immediately cut in, "Because I slept well last night."
"Oh, you slept well."
Evelyn took a big bite of the marmalade-covered bread, chewed twice, and added indistinctly:
"That’s good, then. Make sure you... um, rest."
Richard was a little speechless. He took a sip of his tea.
’This kid still hasn’t gotten over that misunderstanding from last time.’
He decided not to explain anything. He knew from experience that the more he tried to clarify, the worse it would sound.
’Time would wash everything away, including his sister’s overly active imagination.’
His Mother poked her head out of the kitchen. "What are you two whispering about?"
"Nothing," the siblings said in unison.
Outside the window, Brighton’s chimneys began to belch smoke, and the low-frequency vibrations of distant heavy machinery permeated through the foundation.
A new day.
Richard finished his bread, drained the tea in his cup, and took his dishes to the kitchen.
He left with Evelyn, who was hastily stuffing a slice of bread into her mouth, and they headed for the school bus stop.
He had Mr. Hutton’s history class today, and he had plenty of questions waiting for the old professor to answer.

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