Richard and Maggie were both stunned for a moment.
"Wait," Maggie spoke up first.
"Sir, these Inscriptions have existed for over two thousand years. Has no one ever deciphered them?"
That was a good question.
Mr. Hutton took a sip of his tea.
"Maggie, let me give you an analogy."
He picked up a coin from the low table.
"Suppose this copper plate has a sentence written on it: ’The sun shines upon the earth.’"
He tossed the copper plate, heads up.
"A thousand years ago, a Scholar read this sentence.
He wrote an annotation: ’The sun shines upon the earth’ means that light dispels darkness, and order suppresses chaos."
The copper plate was flipped over.
"Five hundred years later, another Scholar read the same sentence.
He wrote an annotation: ’The sun shines upon the earth’ means that nothing can hide in the shadows forever."
"Three hundred years after that, yet another Scholar read the sentence.
Annotation: ’The sun shines upon the earth.’ The sun can illuminate the earth, but it can also scorch it to death."
He stood the copper plate on its edge, holding it between his forefinger and thumb, showing both sides to the two young people at once.
"Three people read the same sentence. None of the three annotations can be called wrong, yet all three are dissimilar."
Richard mulled over the meaning of his words.
"Sir, are you saying... that the ’previously un-restored encrypted text’ required for the Probatio isn’t about deciphering a coded text that has never been touched before?"
"Correct. It only requires you to write your own interpretation, from your own perspective."
Mr. Hutton placed the copper plate back on the table.
"The Latin word for this test is *Probatio*, meaning ’proof’.
Proof that you have the ability to independently face an encrypted Inscription, deconstruct it from start to finish, understand it, and re-articulate it using your own language and knowledge."
"Otherwise, over thousands of years, there are only so many encrypted texts in total.
But every year, Scholars must complete this task. We old folks can’t be expected to manually encrypt Inscriptions for you, can we?"
"So, the same Inscription can be used as Probatio material by different Scholars?"
Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. "Then couldn’t you just copy the answers of those who came before?"
"If you copy it, is it truly your own?" Mr. Hutton retorted.
Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"You can certainly go through the archives and find the papers of the past."
Mr. Hutton placed his teacup back on its saucer.
"But after you’ve copied it, when you stand before that Inscription and fixate on it with your Spiritual Vision, what the Inscription gives back to you will be completely different from what it gave back to them."
"Because the times have changed, you have changed, and even the Curtain itself is changing."
"The same Inscription can appear vastly different to Scholars of different eras, different Tiers, and different Traditions.
A Scholar five hundred years ago might have read ’tranquility’ in the seventh set of Inscriptions, while you might read ’restraint’. You are both right, and yet neither of you is entirely right."
"But as long as you can stand before the Inscription, independently complete a full interpretation using your own knowledge and inspiration, and..."
He held up three fingers.
"First, the chain of logic in your interpretation must be complete and traceable, with no leaps."
"Second, the conclusion you draw must resonate with the Ether Flow of the Inscription itself."
"Third, the draft of your interpretation must be submitted to your Guide and at least one Practitioner of the Scholar path for double confirmation. The standard for confirmation is whether your answer is logically ’defensible’."
Mr. Hutton lowered his three fingers.
"Satisfy these three conditions, and the Probatio is passed."
Richard leaned back in his chair, processing everything he had just heard.
’So the Probatio was never about "finding an untouched coded text and translating it for the first time ever."’
’Faced with the same Inscription, every Scholar submits an answer sheet that is uniquely their own.’
’This answer is influenced by their knowledge reserves, inspirational leanings, the era they live in, the inclination of their Breathing Technique, and even their life experiences.’
’Give the exact same Inscription to a hundred Scholars, and you’ll get a hundred different interpretations.’
’And every single one of them could be a passing Probatio.’
"So these ancient Inscriptions are basically a reusable test bank."
Richard thought of the official exam papers from his past life.
’There were only a few textbooks, but after so many years of official and mock exams, they always found new material for questions.’
"You can think of it that way." Mr. Hutton was quite pleased with his analogy.
"The extant Seal Inscriptions, tomb Inscriptions, and ritual fragments within the Imperial borders... there are several thousand of them, large and small.
Every one of them can be used repeatedly. After one generation is done, the next can use it, and every generation will read something different from it."
His tone lightened a little. "In fact, the repeated interpretation of the same Inscription by Scholars of different eras is, in itself, a part of how Tradition is continued.
The annotations from a thousand years ago, stacked together with today’s annotations, form the history of humanity’s understanding of the Curtain."
"If one day your interpretation is almost identical to that of a predecessor, it would actually indicate that your thinking is too outdated."
Mr. Hutton smiled.
"This is why we always talk about points of innovation. For our human Traditions, only innovative viewpoints hold value."
Richard silently committed these words to memory.
Beside him, Maggie was already scribbling something rapidly on the back of the Rubbing Copy with a charcoal pen.
"Sir, this Rubbing Copy..." She finished her last stroke and looked up. "I helped make it. Could I keep a copy?"
"Of course. These are all shared resources. Anyone can interpret them."
"Sir," Richard spoke up.
"Yes?"
"When I was looking at the Inscriptions down there today, something occurred to me."
"Go on."
"The twelve sets of Inscriptions on the Boundary Stone Array—the bottom layer is Celtic, the middle layer is Romanization, and the surface layer is medieval Latin."
"Mm-hm."
"Three layers of text coexisting on the same medium... that’s very close to the definition of ’Double Overwrite’."
Mr. Hutton’s hand, holding his teacup, froze.
"Where did you learn the term ’Double Overwrite’?"
"The Imperial University Library." Richard had his answer ready.
"I was going through documents on the east side of the second floor and saw an old book on encryption methods.
It mentioned this concept—two or more layers of text coexisting on the same medium, an overlap of information on both the physical and Ether Layer."
"I just jotted down the term at the time. I didn’t study it in depth."
The old gentleman placed his teacup back on the table.
"Since we’re on the topic, I might as well explain it to you.
The research in our field also needs to be published and circulated in society.
A Scholar can’t just lock themselves away and talk to themselves. Papers are written to be seen by others."
"But have you ever thought about how these papers are written in such a way that outsiders can’t understand them?"
Drawing from his experience deciphering Appendix C and other texts, Richard offered his guess.
"...By repeatedly packaging them in academic jargon to artificially create a barrier to entry?"
"Correct." Mr. Hutton nodded. "That’s the most common layer."
"In the publicly available academic journals at the Imperial University Library, more than half of the articles look like papers on physiology, geology, anthropology, or classical studies, but they’re actually all about our line of work."
"An outsider who opens one will only see dense papers that put them to sleep. They’ll take one look and put it down."
The old gentleman took a sip of tea.
"That’s why our field places such a high value on intelligence. An ordinary person just needs to memorize textbook facts to get a degree.
In our field, if you can’t even understand your peers’ papers, how can you be a Scholar?"
"I see." Richard digested this information.
"As for the ’overwrite’ technique you mentioned."
"With a Double Overwrite, there’s only one line of text on the physical level, but a second layer can be revealed using specific methods.
Spiritual Vision, specific light sources, chemical reagents, temperature changes... there are many ways."
Mr. Hutton placed the teacup on his lap.
"The content hidden beneath the overwrite is a completely different class of thing from the surface content."
"...What do you mean?"
"The surface layer is ’safe knowledge,’ like a piece of history or a language."
"Hidden underneath is the truly dangerous stuff."
"How dangerous?" Maggie was also interested; exploring the unknown was, after all, a Scholar’s nature.
Mr. Hutton glanced at her.
"Within the academic system, any document that involves multiple overwrites or even more complex encryption techniques has one thing in common."
"What’s that?"
"Many of them are related to the Abyss Tradition and forbidden rituals."
Richard’s fingers tightened on his knee.
Beside him, Maggie stopped twirling the charcoal pen between her fingers, her shoulders tensing slightly.
As a child who grew up in the Gael Highlands, the word "Abyss" carried more weight for her than it did for Richard.
Mr. Hutton noticed her reaction but didn’t look away.
"From its very inception, the knowledge of the Abyss Tradition has been considered the most dangerous thing by all the major Traditions."
The old man folded his hands over his teacup.
"Scholars of the Sun Tradition see the Abyss as a betrayal of order;
Alchemists of the Furnace Fire Tradition believe it is a distortion of the laws of transformation;
and the Hunters of the Moon-Hunting Tradition are even more direct. They’ve seen too many people go mad and wipe out their entire teams, so they wish they could burn every related document to ash."
"But the Abyss Tradition itself does contain things that cannot be found in other Traditions.
Some knowledge can only be dug out from the depths of the Curtain, and some Techniques can only be performed by practicing the Abyss Tradition."
"So, the Scholars who possessed this dangerous knowledge made a compromise.
They didn’t destroy these documents, but they repeatedly encrypted them using multiple overwrites or even more complex methods."
Mr. Hutton raised a hand.
"When a Scholar encrypts a text, they are setting up a series of escalating filters."
"A simply encrypted text contains basic knowledge of Mysticism, which is enough to block ordinary people;
a Double Overwrite can block most Newcomers;
and as for the more complex encryption methods beyond that..."
His hand slowly lowered.
"Our principle is that if you have the ability to break the corresponding encryption, you already possess enough judgment to decide for yourself whether to continue reading."
Mr. Hutton looked down and blew on the tea leaves in his cup.
"Richard, I know you have a strong curiosity for all kinds of knowledge.
That is a Scholar’s most important quality, and also the one most likely to get them into trouble."
"But I’ll tell you this one thing in advance... try to avoid knowledge related to the Abyss Tradition."
His gaze fell on Richard’s face.
"Whether it’s the Sun, Furnace Fire, Weaving Net, or any other branch Tradition.
Although these paths each have their own risks, fundamentally, their direction is upward.
Up there, there is light, there are rules, and there are paths trodden by those who came before."
"The direction of the Abyss Tradition is downward.
Down there, there is no light, no rules, no path trodden by predecessors.
Or rather, the paths trodden by predecessors move on their own down there.
You think you are walking, but in reality, the path is walking you."

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