"My teacher is Lady Mary of 17 Huayue Street. You’ve probably heard the name, right? She often places little ads in the major newspapers."
The small ads in the newspapers, 17 Huayue Street, the black cat sprawled on the steps, and Vincent’s warning... it all clicked into place.
Through Old Big’s halting account, Richard gradually pieced together Lady Mary’s background.
Lady Mary was not just a Spirit Medium on Huayue Street.
She was a leading figure among the unofficial Guilds, with decades of practice throughout the Imperial territory.
She had many students, spread across every city in the Imperial territory—from the Imperial Capital to the Northern Industrial District, from the port cities to the inland mining towns.
Some of these students became Spirit Mediums, some Divination Masters, some Herbalists, and some entered government service.
Each person walked a different path, but their roots were all firmly planted in Lady Mary’s school.
"Only after a student completes their apprenticeship are they qualified to use titles like ’Lady’ or ’Mister.’"
Old Big explained.
"What about you, Old Big?" Richard asked.
"Me..." He grinned. "I never completed my apprenticeship."
"My Spiritual Vision wasn’t up to snuff, my Divination accuracy wasn’t up to standard, and when it came to Seals, I could only identify them, not set them. I was lacking in all three core techniques, so my teacher didn’t give me a title."
"At the time, she suggested I take another path: enter the official system, become a coroner, and use my half-baked Spiritual Vision and Divination from the Secret Direction to assist with my autopsy work."
He screwed the lid back onto the copper kettle:
"This is what my teacher told me then: ’In this line of work, not everyone needs to stand at the top of the tower.
’Every brick in the tower has its place. If you can be a good brick, the whole tower will be that much more stable.’"
He patted his thighs and stood up.
"So, I came to Brighton to be a coroner and do my secondary examinations. And on weekends, I occasionally come to the range to fire a few rounds and blow off some steam."
"My senior apprentice started two years before me, and she was far more talented."
"She completed her apprenticeship, earned a proper title, and has her own clients in several cities in the North District.
She makes runs to Brighton, too, mainly to serve the wealthy families."
He placed the empty cup upside down on the ammunition box.
"Last month, she was here on business, so I took her out to dinner."
"Over dinner, she mentioned that there was a middle school in the North District called Greenwood, and inside was a rather remarkable young fellow."
Richard didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue.
Old Big spread his hands.
"I didn’t pay it much mind at the time. Greenwood has so many students, and I don’t know one from another. Then, as it turns out, you just happened to show up at the range."
"As soon as you arrived, I could tell you had a decent foundation in the Breathing Technique.
But at the time, I wasn’t sure if you were the person she was talking about, so it wouldn’t have been right to ask directly."
"But then today you said you go to school at Greenwood, and everything lined up."
"So that’s why last week you only taught me about shooting and Enchanted Bullets, and nothing else," Richard realized.
"Of course," Old Big chuckled.
"If you were just some random new recruit from the organization, I’d teach you how to shoot and leave it at that. There’d be no need to say any more."
At this, Old Big’s tone suddenly shifted.
"Talk is cheap." He fished a copper coin from his pocket and flicked it with his fingertip.
The copper penny spun into the air. He caught it smoothly and slapped his hand down over it.
"Come on, let’s play a little game."
He crossed his arms and squinted, studying Richard for about five seconds.
"The back of your head..." He pointed to the back of his own head. "There’s a very faint patch of stagnation."
"You must’ve been thinking hard about something recently. Tackling a difficult problem?"
"Latin homework," Richard said, his expression unchanging.
Old Big froze for a second, then burst out laughing.
"Latin homework!" He laughed until his belly shook.
"Alright, Latin homework. Whatever you say."
"Is that what you tell that little sister of yours, too?"
Richard’s expression changed in an instant. "How did you know I have a sister?"
"There’s a small smudge of flour on the inside of your left cuff. Someone must have adjusted it for you before you left home today.
The person who fixed your cuff had flour on her hands, which means she had just been baking or kneading dough."
"The height of the flour smudge is a bit low, which means that person is about half a head shorter than you."
"Someone who lives at your house, knows how to bake, is about half a head shorter than you, and would help you straighten your clothes."
Old Big ticked off the points on his fingers.
"It’s most likely your Mother or a sister, but a mother or an older sister would probably be more meticulous."
"A younger sister is the most likely possibility. She probably just gave your sleeve a tug for you on your way out."
His throat was dry from all the talking, so he took another sip of tea. "Well? Am I right?"
"Completely."
"Then would you like to learn this technique as well?"
"I do," Richard answered without hesitation.
A smile bloomed across Old Big’s face, smoothing out his wrinkles.
"Excellent, excellent!"
He hopped down from the ammunition box, his enthusiasm surprising Richard.
"Don’t think it’s strange."
Old Big seemed to guess what he was thinking.
"Back in the day, my teacher never turned anyone away. As long as you were willing to learn, she was willing to teach.
Even if it turned out you had no aptitude for it, she wouldn’t have sent you away.
At worst, she’d just teach you something else—be it herbalism or basic Inscription identification, there was always something you could learn."
"Passing on the knowledge in our line of work is too difficult. There are just too few people born with the right ’circuits.’
Regardless of what path you ultimately take, Spiritual Vision is a universal skill. It’s useful no matter where you go."
"So if you want to learn, I’d be more than happy to teach you," Old Big said bluntly.
"I won’t take any money, I don’t need you to call me ’master,’ and we won’t bother with any of those superficial ceremonies.
If you can learn it, you learn it. If you can’t, that’s fine too. At the very least, you’ll have made a new friend."
He gestured with his finger toward the ceiling.
"There’s an empty office on the third floor. The monitoring station used to use it for their archives, but it’s been vacant ever since the files were moved.
No one uses it on the weekends, so it’s quiet. And once the curtains are drawn, the lighting is just right."
He ticked things off on his fingers as he made the arrangements.
"Next Sunday, same time. When you get here, come up to the third floor and find me. I’ll have the testing materials prepared in advance."
"What kind of materials?"
"A few objects with different properties." Old Big held his hands apart to indicate their size.
"Some will contain trace amounts of residual Ether, and some will be completely clean.
I’ll line them up on a table and cover them with a cloth."
"You’ll close your eyes and use the Perception from your internal Ether circulation to ’touch’ each one..."
"If, out of ten items, you can accurately distinguish which ones have Ether and which ones don’t...
...even with just sixty or seventy percent accuracy, that will prove you have enough basic inspiration. The rest is just practice and reinforcement."
Richard mentally ran through the procedure.
The Spiritual Vision test would require him to push his Perception out and hold it there, suspended just outside his body, to detect the surrounding Ether environment.
The difference between "pushing out and then retracting" and "pushing out and holding" wasn’t huge, but they were completely different in nature.
The former was a spring; the latter, an antenna.
"If you really show an aptitude... I can initiate you."
He held up a second finger.
"If your talent is good enough, I could even recommend you directly to my school."
"Of course, you’re on the Scholar path, so you don’t need to learn everything from our Secret Direction.
But Spiritual Vision and basic Divination are universal skills; they aren’t path-specific.
A Scholar can use them just the same, perhaps even better than a Secretive One, because you lot have a theoretical foundation."
He picked up his toolbox, and the two of them walked up the concrete stairs, one behind the other.
At the doorway, Old Big, holding the toolbox and a trash bag, glanced back at Richard.
"Next Sunday at two in the afternoon, same place. I’ll bring everything needed for the test."
He walked down the steps from the entrance.
"When you get back, after you finish your Breathing Technique practice each night, ’push’ your awareness outward on the final exhale.
You don’t have to push it far, just an inch from the surface of your body will do.
Push it out, hold it for a second, then pull it back in."
"Consider it a warm-up. It’ll make it easier for you to get into the right state when it’s time for the test."
"Thank you."
"You’re welcome."

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