"But my Master once said something."
Old Big’s gaze shifted from Richard’s face to the twenty items on the table.
"My Master said, ’Talent determines how fast you can go, but character determines how far you can go.
People who can press on day after day, patiently and without haste, are far rarer than those with great talent.’"
"My senior apprentice has now reached Minor Mastery. Aside from a certain someone, she’s gone further than any of our other fellow apprentices."
Old Big’s gaze returned to Richard.
"I see her shadow in you."
As he finished speaking, a piece of coal in the fireplace collapsed, sending sparks scattering. They landed on the iron grate and sizzled twice.
"Richard."
"Yes?"
"I’m going to ask you one more time."
Old Big’s expression and tone were extremely serious, a complete departure from his previous casual question.
"Are you willing to formally become my disciple and join my school?"
Richard fell silent for a moment.
"Old Big, I’m grateful that you think so highly of me."
"But given my current situation, I’m not in a position to make that commitment."
He chose his words carefully, trying to be sincere without causing offense.
"I have to prepare for university, my family’s financial situation has only just started to improve, and my sister has to get ready for her entrance exams next year.
I need to divide my energy among many things. I can’t devote myself completely to the school’s training."
"If I agreed but couldn’t make the necessary commitment, it would be disrespectful to you and your school."
After listening, the man shook his head.
"A pity."
"A real pity," he said again.
"I see the shadow of my senior apprentice in you, and even... a little of my Master’s shadow."
"My Master was the same way back then. Never in a rush, never flustered. Just moving forward one step at a time, each step planted firmly on the ground."
Old Big stood up, walked to the fireplace, and prodded the coals with a fire poker.
"Forget it. I won’t force you,"
he said without turning around.
"The door is always open. Whenever you’ve made up your mind, you can step right in."
"Thank you."
"Don’t thank me." Old Big used the poker to flip over a piece of red-hot coal.
"If you’re going to thank anyone, thank yourself. Talent is a gift from the heavens, but that drive to grind it out bit by bit—that’s all you."
He placed the poker back on its stand and turned around.
"Alright, let’s get back to the lesson. I still haven’t covered what I’m supposed to teach you today."
Old Big’s tone shifted quickly, jumping from his earlier sentimentality right back into teaching mode.
But Richard noticed that the depth and detail of his explanations had gone a level deeper than last week.
Last week, he had focused more on the ’how’—the steps, procedures, and precautions.
Now, he was starting to explain the ’why’—the principles behind each step, the risks associated with each precaution, and the logic behind the trade-offs between different choices.
He was treating Richard as one of his own.
"Let’s start with Wax Words. Tell me about your practice this week."
Richard took out the Gray Wax Stick and his notebook, flipping to the pages where he had recorded the shapes of the wax drippings.
Old Big leaned over to look.
"S-shape seven times, Y-shape five times, teardrop four times..."
He flipped through a few pages of the notebook, pondering the records for a moment.
"An S-shape usually represents a ’detour’ or a ’winding path.’"
"A Y-shape represents a ’fork’ or a ’choice.’"
"A teardrop shape represents ’unfinished business’ or ’something without a conclusion yet.’"
Old Big handed the notebook back to Richard.
"You’ve had three things on your mind this week, turning them over and over.
Something that needs a roundabout solution, something that requires a choice, and something that hasn’t reached a conclusion."
Richard mentally checked them off.
’The thing needing a roundabout solution: The Covering Armor part of the Stone Armor has been difficult. I’ve been mulling over it recently.’
’The choice I’m hesitating on: Mr. Hutton said I need a foundation in combat to complement the Covering Armor. I’m hesitant because learning to fight right now feels like a distraction from my real responsibilities.’
’The thing without a conclusion: I still don’t know the specifics of where I’ll be going or what I’ll be doing for my winter break internship.’
Three matters, three shapes. They matched up perfectly.
"That’s pretty accurate," Richard said.
"Of course it is." Old Big was nonchalant. "The accuracy actually comes from you. The wax just draws a picture of what’s in your heart."
"To read yourself is to understand."
"But understanding yourself is also the first step of Divination."
Old Big took out an apple and bit into it.
"In this line of work, the biggest taboo is ’believing whatever the Divination tells you.’"
"You have to verify every piece of information Divination gives you through other means."
"My Master used to say that everyone thinks a Divination Master is a charlatan, but a Divination Master is actually a Detective."
"A Detective can’t know the truth of a case at the start, but he can use evidence to gradually deduce it.
It’s the same for a Divination Master. You must use the images from the Divination to deduce the outcome you seek."
"That sounds surprisingly pragmatic," Richard said.
"Pragmatism is how our line of work has been passed down through the generations."
Old Big broke the serious atmosphere and a mischievous grin spread across his face.
"If she could really know everything through Divination, my Master would have overthrown the king and taken the throne herself long ago."
The moment he said that, Richard quickly looked around.
’Saying something like that in an official government Branch Office?’
"She wouldn’t actually have an idea like that, would she?"
"Of course she doesn’t now," Old Big said with a wave of his hand.
"But as for whether she had similar dangerous thoughts when she was young... who can say?"
His small eyes glanced at Richard. "Young people, you know? Get a little bit of skill and you want to do big things. We were all young once."
"What about you, Old Big? You were young once, too, right?" Richard shot back.
"Me?" Old Big patted his belly. "When I was young, all I wanted was to eat more."

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