“Miss Garland had always thought that dreaming was a rather fun thing to do.
“Because when she dreamed, she always felt lightheaded and bewildered, as if she understood nothing at all—as though the world inside the dream were an entirely different realm.
“Every time she went to sleep, every time after saying goodnight to her parents, Miss Garland would lie in bed neat and proper with a feeling of excitement and anticipation, welcoming the arrival of her dreams with utmost sincerity.
“…Miss Garland was twelve years old this year. She always felt that her dream-self knew far more things than her twelve-year-old self in reality. It was quite incredible, but then again, dreaming itself was already something incredible.
“On this day, Miss Garland lay down in bed attentively once more, preparing to welcome her wondrous dreamscape. Right at that moment, she suddenly caught sight of a shooting star flashing across the night sky outside her window. That shooting star crossed slowly yet swiftly, and then seemed to fall somewhere in the distance.
“Miss Garland sat up excited from her bed, leaning over the windowsill to peer out curiously. She thought she would hear the chatter of other neighbors and the rising exclamations across this small town—that was a shooting star, after all!
“Yet, what greeted her was only the silent town and the quiet night sky. Where did the shooting star drop?
“Miss Garland tilted her head, pondering the question. Before she realized it, she fell asleep. Right before drifting off, she was still thinking: Oh dear, why do I feel so sleepy? But I ought to sleep under the blanket, or else it will feel very cold.
“Yet before she could make herself crawl back into the blanket, her head tilted to the side, and she drifted completely into sleep.
“In her dream, she felt herself fall into an ocean—she was just like that shooting star, landing right in the sea!
“How fun, she thought. She had never seen the ocean before, yet here she was falling right into it inside a dream, instantly learning how to swim. She swam upwards with all her strength, and the moment her head broke through the water’s surface, she suddenly realized that she hadn’t been choked by the seawater at all!
“Could she breathe in the ocean?
“Miss Garland was a young girl with plenty of initiative. She immediately plunged back down into the seawater. The seawater was a bit cold, but it felt merely cool.
“Miss Garland discovered to her surprise that she could breathe with great ease in the ocean, just like a fish—she had turned into a Garland-fish, how fun! And so, she kept swimming through the sea.
“Gradually, she felt tired and slowed her swimming speed. She realized she had already swum into very, very deep waters. The surroundings were somewhat dark, making Miss Garland feel as though she had come to the wrong place.
“She swum forward a bit further, wanting to find the place where she had first appeared. She grit her teeth, feeling a bit scared, yet unwilling to admit it. At that moment, she suddenly felt her hand touch something.
“She felt around carefully and discovered it was a stretch of flat ground. She had actually reached the seabed!
“Miss Garland found it a bit incredible. But the moment she remembered this was a dream, she didn’t find it strange at all. She walked across the seabed just as if she were on land. The surrounding seawater reminded her of the bubble baths her mother prepared for her.
“She walked for a while, and then saw a light suddenly illuminate the space ahead. Light appearing at the dark seabed was somewhat strange, but by now, Miss Garland felt very tired, so she didn’t care about it in the slightest.
“She walked toward the place with the light. From afar, she discovered it was a city located on the seabed, extraordinarily bright and beautiful, shimmering with dots and specks of light within the tranquil blue seawater.
“Miss Garland thought she should be able to rest there for a bit. Hopefully, the people of this city would be willing to receive her, a guest who had come from afar. After all, she came from the ‘outside’!
“She continued walking over. Right at that moment, a muffled, rough voice—carrying a slightly muffled, resonant tone unique to the underwater world—rang beside her ear.
“‘Hey! Newcomer! Who are you? Why haven’t you gone to report at the lighthouse?’
“Miss Garland was startled. She looked around and saw a hazy speck of light swimming toward her. Looking closely, she realized it was an anglerfish. That fish was nearly half her size.
“‘Mr. Anglerfish, I don’t know how I ended up here either,’ Miss Garland said. ‘What is the lighthouse? Why do I need to report there?’
“The anglerfish looked her over, then muttered softly under its breath: ‘A human girl… hmph. Hope you aren’t some bad character. Lately, some fellows hiding in the shadows have been eyeing the Underwater City, so anyone coming here must report to the lighthouse.’
“Miss Garland understood a little. She said: ‘Then, Mr. Anglerfish, could you please take me to the lighthouse?’
“The anglerfish’s barb twitched, looking rather reluctant, but in the end, the fish said: ‘Fine! Troublesome human girl! Follow me, and don’t wander off.’
“Miss Garland followed Mr. Anglerfish’s steps.
“……”
The publisher Benton read through the story. Reaching the end, he subconsciously flipped to the next page, only to stare blankly at the tabletop. Moments later, he tidied the manuscript pages, shook them slightly, and asked, “Professor Noel, where is the continuation?”
Siles sat upright without expression, speaking coldly yet politely: “I haven’t written it yet; I will write it as soon as possible.”
Benton: “…”
He sighed heavily.
He asked again: “So, what is the Underwater City?”
Siles hesitated briefly before speaking slowly: “A… city on the seabed?”
Benton looked at him in surprise, before chuckling helplessly: “I didn’t expect you to joke as well, Professor Noel!”
Siles: “…”
Why did so many people think he was joking when he wasn’t joking at all? Yet if he actually told a dry joke, people would instead treat it as an extraordinarily serious topic… it truly was quite incredible.
To the side, the editor from Literary Review poked his head over and asked, “What? What Underwater City? Let me see.”
Benton handed the manuscript over to him, then asked Siles again: “So, do you intend to shift toward children’s literature?”
“No, that is not the case,” Siles said. “It is simply that I feel this story is more suited to be told from a child’s perspective.”
“That I agree with,” Benton nodded. “Adults likely wouldn’t indulge in dreaming.”
Siles was momentarily at a loss for words, feeling that Benton’s statement lacked universality. However, there was no need for him to refute such a view.
Besides, the reason he used the perspective of a twelve-year-old girl was that he had more or less thought of Nona from the deep-sea dreams while conceiving it. He had blended a portion of Nona’s innocence into Miss Garland.
The journal editor read through the content of the short novel bit by bit, then spoke up: “I am extremely interested in the continuation. Professor Noel, do you intend to serialize it in a newspaper? Which newspaper?”
Siles turned his gaze toward Benton.
Benton said with great satisfaction: “The Lamifa City Weekly. They offered a very good layout spot, and the weekly format suits your requirements well.
“Furthermore, I actually contacted the Duchy of Konst Newspaper as well. However, they declined because it is unlikely you can update every single day. Still, they introduced me to another channel under the same publishing house—the Konst Monthly News.
“If your story turns out to be longer in word count, then it can certainly be featured in that monthly publication. Of course, that depends on Professor Noel’s efforts.
“The specific manuscript fees will also be decided upon formal publication, and the newspaper side will need to look at your work as well. Naturally, I assure you, Professor, that it will be a figure that satisfies you.”
Siles couldn’t help saying: “Thank you for your help, Benton.”
His cooperation with Benton had always been very pleasant, including The Rose’s Revenge and Fredman’s translated travelogue. The corresponding compensation was always delivered to Siles on time.
“No need to be so polite, we are mutually benefiting!” Benton said. “By the way, what new pen name do you plan to use?”
Siles pondered for a moment. A word naturally surfaced in his mind—it was the pen name he had used back on Earth.
After coming to the Fisher World, he hadn’t carefully considered the matter of a pen name; however, when Benton asked, he couldn’t help but think of that familiar word.
Translate it directly into the language of the Duchy of Konst, however, and it would sound overly cumbersome, unsuitable as a pen name here. Nevertheless, it indeed gave him some inspiration.
He couldn’t help but daze slightly, then said in a deep voice: “He.” He paused, then added, “’He’ as in congratulations.”
This single character from Earth, when translated into the Konst language, consisted of two brief syllables, quite suitable to serve as a pen name. At least Siles thought so. He took his surname from Earth as his new pen name.
Benton was baffled, unaware of what meaning was contained within this simple word. He merely said: “Alright. Then perhaps I can congratulate you in advance here, hoping this short novel achieves good results.”
Siles smiled slightly, while also pulling himself out of those untimely emotions.
The journal editor to the side nodded repeatedly as well, saying: “Indeed, congratulations are in order. That paper of yours also caused quite a stir, even more so within the relevant academic circles.
“Professor Noel, you truly deserve to be called a genius. Lately, quite a few history professors have written letters to our editorial department, hoping to exchange ideas with you.”
Siles was somewhat surprised to learn this.
The journal editor then added: “However, the vast majority are just clout-chasing fellows. You should know this so you don’t get deceived later.
“If they truly wished to communicate with you, they could easily obtain your contact information through academic channels at Lamifa University—they might even have known you long ago. Why go through us?
“We see this kind of thing all the time. Some academic fraudsters always like submitting manuscripts to us, or asking us to help contact famous scholars. They don’t think about improving themselves, yet always look for shortcuts—it’s quite a headache.”
They chatted while eating. Siles didn’t participate much in this topic, while Benton listened with keen interest.
The journal editor spoke again: “I have encountered this kind of thing myself. There was a fellow claiming to be a professor of literary history at Lamifa University who submitted a paper, calling it a masterpiece.
“Yet when I took a look—things like ‘Shadows’ and ‘Old Gods’—I completely couldn’t comprehend what kind of lunatic could write such things. I had no choice but to reject him, and I was even scolded in a letter he sent back…”
Saying so, he couldn’t help shaking his head.
Siles paused slightly, then suddenly looked up at the editor, asking: “‘Shadows’ and ‘Old Gods’?”
“Yes, you find it completely incredible too, don’t you,” the editor said. “If he had reasoned his arguments properly, presenting his reference works, papers, and so forth, then it would be acceptable—perhaps it really would deserve his description.
“Yet his paper lacked any reference works whatsoever, as if the entire paper was made up out of thin air, written after getting drunk. That makes it thoroughly exasperating.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
He thought, could this possibly be that unsubmitted or rejected paper Professor Cabel once wrote?
Shadows, Old Gods…
He thought for a moment, then asked: “May I ask, do you still have a transcript of that paper on your end? You know, I am also quite interested in the Old Gods, so I would like to know the specific contents of that paper. Even if it is fabricated out of thin air, it can help me rule out some possibilities.”
The journal editor looked at him in great surprise, then lamented: “You are truly a rigorous scholar. No problem, I will help look for it when I get back; it should still be there. Our journal’s editorial department always keeps these messy documents.
“In short, I am very willing to do you this favor. However, it happens to be the end of the year right now, and the department is quite busy, so it might take a while—I hope you don’t mind. Where should it be sent to when the time comes?”
“6 Hayward Street,” Siles said. “You can just send it to this address.”
Once the meal was finished, all three were very satisfied.
Benton finally got the manuscript for Siles’s new book, the journal editor kept saying he greatly looked forward to the continuation of the story, and Siles unexpectedly obtained a clue regarding Professor Cabel’s unpublished paper.
Regarding Professor Cabel’s past, Siles still had many points of curiosity.
For instance, those two explorers who influenced Professor Cabel’s entire life—especially the latter one—what exactly had they discussed with Professor Cabel?
For another, Professor Cabel firmly believed that the “Shadow” devoured Hoodoka and Menavaca; however, his phrasing regarding the concept of “Shadow” was always vague, and Siles hadn’t been able to find relevant evidence from his manuscript either.
Perhaps this paper would contain more detailed descriptions?
Siles felt some curiosity, but everything seemed to have to wait until that long-dusty paper arrived before him.
Soon, Siles cast these thoughts to the back of his mind. It was Sunday afternoon, and he was set to meet with Alva, Chester, and the others. However, he first needed to do one thing.
—Rendezvous with Chendo.
In truth, Siles originally wanted to go directly to the agreed location—they had set it at 18 Housewell Street, because Siles happened to know the place, making it quite suitable for a private gathering where they could also eat dinner together directly in the evening.
That day Siles also had the lunch engagement with the publisher Benton, so he originally intended to head straight to 18 Housewell Street after finishing lunch. Chendo wouldn’t need to wait for him either, just heading over whenever convenient for himself.
However, Chendo said he wanted to arrive together with Siles rather than going separately.
Siles: “…”
What difference did that make?
He seemed able to understand Chendo’s thoughts, but that also appeared somewhat childish. Yet, his boyfriend seemed to have always been this childish.
This always made Siles feel helpless, yet at the same time feel a certain warm, fluffy emotion.
Siles’s meeting with Benton took place near Atherton Square, while Chendo, after having his own lunch, waited for Siles in a bakery near Atherton Square.
When Siles arrived and smelled the bakery’s highly recognizable fragrance, he saw Chendo talking with the baker woman. Chendo’s expression appeared somewhat thoughtful.
When Siles stepped through the door, Chendo glance over subconsciously, and that single glance never left. He smiled and said, “You’ve arrived. I was just asking this lady how to make bread and desserts.”
Siles dazed for a moment, then walked over and held Chendo’s hand.
“…Your hands are so cold,” Chendo muttered softly. He placed Siles’s hand into his own pocket, pressing his own hand against it, and only then said with satisfaction, “I feel making bread isn’t very difficult either. So I can try it later and let you taste it.”
“Of course,” Siles said. “I look forward to it.”
He glanced at the baker lady standing nearby with a smile, offering his thanks to her as well.
The baker shook her head, softly saying “You’re welcome,” and returned behind the counter.
“We can buy some desserts and drinks to bring over,” Siles said. “Alva will probably want to play cards.”
Chendo couldn’t help chuckling: “Abolutely.”
And so, they selected a few desserts in the bakery. A long time had passed since the Greyson incident, and Siles felt his “food phobia” had improved quite a bit, so he also picked out one or two desserts he wanted to eat with keen interest.
“So how was your meeting with that publisher?” Chendo asked.
“I encountered an unexpected surprise,” Siles said.
Chendo looked at him with some confusion.
Siles then recounted the matter regarding the whereabouts of Professor Cabel’s paper.
Only then did Chendo realize. He looked at the snow piled up at the street corner outside the window, then said: “I remember you became a professor at Lamifa University this summer, and Cabel disappeared at that time as well. So much time has passed.”
“Indeed,” Siles said. “Hopefully everything can be thoroughly investigated.”
“It will be,” Chendo said softly. “Sooner or later, the truth will be before you.”
Siles wanted to say something, but in the end merely smiled. He said: “Hopefully so.” He shifted the topic, “There are still quite a few things we need to investigate right now.”
Chendo nodded: “That is indeed true. By the way, regarding Darwin Hospital…” He pondered briefly, “That doctor Nona met—I did manage to look into some information. Let’s talk on the way.”
“Alright,” Siles replied.
After purchasing the desserts, they walked toward 18 Housewell Street.
Upon leaving the bakery, Siles realized with some surprise that Chendo’s outfit today seemed very… very “Siles.”
Because he had to teach classes and frequently faced official matters, Siles always wore shirts, suit jackets, and overcoats, adding sweaters or other warm clothing in winter.
No matter how you looked at it, his daily dressing style leaned toward the formal side.
Chendo was usually quite different from him. Chendo leaned toward laziness and casualty, wearing whatever he wanted as long as it felt comfortable. Many of his clothes still retained the style of Ashless Lands explorers—convenient, sharp, and easy to move in.
…In short, completely different from Siles, who wrapped himself in suit jackets every day.
Yet right now, Chendo was wearing that white shirt he had bought at who-knows-when once again, similarly wrapped in a sweater with only the collar exposed, but… it looked far too similar to Siles.
Siles couldn’t help smiling over this discovery.
“What are you laughing at?” Chendo asked, somewhat bewildered.
Siles reached out to touch Chendo’s collar. His cold fingers brushed warm skin, causing Chendo to shudder. He reached out to hold Siles’s hand, feigning anger: “Are you trying to use my body to warm yourself?”
He had originally intended to protest Siles’s action, though not severely, of course. Yet when he actually said it, his emerald eyes couldn’t help twitching, and he muttered softly: “Not that you can’t… you should reach further in…”
“…Chendo.”
Chendo shut his mouth. After a moment, he muttered again unhappily: “But your hands really are cold.”
“Which is why I’m already holding your hand,” Siles laughed, saying, “I just wanted to say earlier… your clothes look very similar to mine. Did you dress like this on purpose?”
“Of course!” Chendo said. “I just wanted to wear the same clothes as you.”
“Then couldn’t you directly wear mine?” Siles said in turn. “It would even save on buying clothes.”
Chendo froze for a moment, then stared blankly at Siles, speaking almost haltingly: “How can you… how can you say such words so… so calmly!”
Siles: “…”
Was two grown men swapping clothes really that big of a deal? Besides, he remembered that on the Earth internet, wearing one’s boyfriend’s clothes was some kind of… trend, wasn’t it?
The Earthling, who was essentially in his thirties without having dated even once, thought with great confusion.
Yet before he could come up with an answer, his boyfriend had already said with great excitement: “But… you’re right!” Chendo’s tone sounded exceptionally affectionate. “That really is a good idea, and it saves money too.”
…Siles felt Chendo’s focus wasn’t on “saving money” at all.
The two spent some time chatting about these strange topics, but quickly turned the conversation back to serious matters. Siles held Chendo’s hand, placing it into his own pocket, and asked: “So, that doctor?”
“…Oh, that doctor,” Chendo said. “An employee at the carriage firm happened to have a child who was sick and needed to go to the hospital, so I asked him to help look into the doctors’ situations while also reminding him about the issues with Darwin Hospital.”
Chendo said it like that, but Siles instead envisioned the tone Chendo used when reminding others… the kind that wasn’t very believable.
He smiled inwardly at the thought. But he didn’t show it on his face, so as to avoid Chendo using that light, mocking tone to address him as “Professor Siles Noel” again.
Chendo added: “This employee gentleman also inquired about the situation regarding doctors at the West District Darwin Hospital, realizing that one of the doctors… had a rather mixed reputation.
“It seems some patients consider him extremely responsible, thoughtful, and attentive, but others—especially parents of children—believe his treatment is somewhat superficial, not truly dedicated to curing the illness, but rather having other motives.
“…In short, this doctor’s name is Hubert Fox, and he should have been working at Darwin Hospital for over a decade. He originally seemed to work at the East District Darwin Hospital, and was subsequently transferred to the West District one.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully, saying: “Perhaps we can test this Mr. Fox. In conversations with Nona and Mrs. Lampson, I noticed they both mentioned the medicine prescribed at Darwin Hospital.
“If we could obtain a dose of this medicine, that would be ideal. Perhaps we can have someone analyze its ingredients.”
“That is indeed a method,” Chendo said. “I could find people to pretend to be a father and daughter… no, perhaps I can directly have this employee gentleman act?”
He muttered as he pondered the method, then said with great confidence: “In short, you can leave this matter to me.”
“Thank you, Chendo,” Siles said. He paused, shifting the topic before Chendo could say anything, “Whether in the East District or West District, Darwin Hospital has some issues.”
“…That is true,” Chendo said. “Speaking of which, I feel that compared to the conspiracies and dangers in the Ashless Lands, the dangers in these cities are far more… hypocritical, wearing a coat of self-righteousness.”
For a hospital to engage in unsavory dealings was disheartening enough.
Siles said softly: “At least we already have a target.”
Chendo turned his head to glance at Siles, then said: “No matter what…” His tone gradually turned deep, “I am extremely glad that I am doing these things together with you.”
Siles dazed slightly, then smiled. He said: “I am also extremely glad, Chendo. That you joined in these matters. It makes me feel much lighter.”
Chendo seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he merely spoke in a lighthearted tone: “It couldn’t be better that you think so.”
Soon, they arrived at 18 Housewell Street. By this time, it was nearly one in the afternoon.
Their agreed time was one-thirty in the afternoon, intending to chat, play cards, and incidentally share their experiences after returning to Lamifa City.
During their brief journey in the past, the four of them had already become very accustomed to this way of getting along. Even Chendo, who on the surface appeared arrogant enough to not bother joining their conversation, actually pricked up his ears in secret, listening to their chatter.
Siles contacted the waiter here to have some drinks delivered.
Soon, Alva and Dr. Chester appeared.
“Ah, it feels so comfortable inside the room,” Alva said. “The weather outside almost froze me solid. This damn winter should be kicked out of the Fisher World!”
Bold words of a young man, Siles thought.
…But he agreed.
Alva was the last to arrive. Once he sat down, he impatiently pulled out several decks of playing cards and said: “Quick, look! These are the initial trial samples. They’ll probably be sold in Lamifa City in a while.”
It was still a 54-card deck, but the card faces appeared far more exquisite and complex, because the Noel Cards gameplay had to be attached to the card faces—values, skills, and so on needed to be listed one by one.
Overall, however, it remained quite beautiful and delicate. In addition, the new version of Fate Cards felt higher in quality to the touch.
Siles observed carefully and discovered these cards were slightly thicker than the original ones.
Alva introduced: “The design staff specifically made this deck a bit thicker to keep it from getting ruined by rough handling. Furthermore, Mr. Lanmere—that is the merchant collaborating with us.” He specifically offered an explanation to Dr. Chester.
Then he continued: “Lanmere seems to intend to sell this card deck everywhere, so its durability during transport had to be given extra consideration, which is why it had to be thicker.”
They all nodded in understanding.
Alva then said lightheartedly: “By the way, Professor, this card deck is currently named ‘Noel Cards.’ Of course, we will clearly state on the card box that Noel Cards are one of the gameplays for Fate Cards. Other gameplays and card faces might be released later as well.”
Siles nodded.
He felt a subtle helplessness regarding his name appearing on the playing cards, but this name had already become popular in the Ashless Lands. Refusing now would be useless, so he might as well calmly (resignedly) accept it.
Dr. Chester admired the new version of the cards and said: “The artwork on these also appears much more exquisite.”
Siles examined them closely as well.
Overall, the ones that became more exquisite were the Follower Cards and Function Cards; the Old God Cards remained in their original style, merely printed more delicately with noticeably brighter colors.
Alva nodded, and scratching his chin, said with slight confusion: “Because… it seems everyone is extremely optimistic about the cards’ prospects.”
Dr. Chester said: “I remember you were extremely optimistic before as well?”
“That was indeed the case…” Alva said with some hesitation, then admitted frankly, “It’s just that I suddenly realized none of us know who the inventor of this card deck is.
“Although he gave the agency rights to the Gillini family when signing the agreement, what if he wants to use this card deck to do something bad!”
The other three all looked at Alva in great astonishment.
Alva said with a bit of annoyance: “Why are you looking at me like that!”
Dr. Chester smiled and said: “Because… Alva, I feel you really have matured.”
Alva rolled his eyes, utterly dismissive of such praise, though he admitted: “I’ve just learned to think about problems from more angles.”
None of them could help chuckling.
Siles then asked smoothly: “So, Alva, did you investigate any news regarding the inventor of the cards?”
“I flipped through the contract signed back then—my parents wouldn’t let me look at it before, saying I was too young and shouldn’t mess around with this. But because I went to the Ashless Lands and pulled in business, they finally agreed,” Alva said.
“Under your soft and hard pestering?” Dr. Chester said.
Alva glared at the doctor, then said: “Of course… of course! But I managed to do it after all! Doctor, you ought to encourage me instead of deliberately teasing me.”
Dr. Chester coughed once, saying in all seriousness: “Alva, you truly are a good boy.”
Alva: “…”
He deliberately rolled his eyes at Dr. Chester.
Afterward, he continued: “Actually, I understand most of the contract’s contents. It was just the other party entrusting us to print a thousand sets of cards and handing over subsequent agency rights to us.
“And then… I discovered the signature at the very bottom of the contract—the other party’s name was a very strange… symbol? I can’t quite describe it. In short, I asked my parents, and they said back then they addressed that person as Mr. ‘Xia.’
“Meaning summer… I really don’t understand what language that is. My parents didn’t know either. Still, that fellow was just that mysterious.”
Having said this, Alva stopped, then said: “That is all I know.” He looked at Siles again, saying, “Professor, the reason I didn’t write back to you earlier…
“Fine, it was because at that time I was still pestering my parents, as the doctor put it. They didn’t really want me involved in this, feeling that mysterious person was extraordinarily strange. Of course, business still had to be done.”
He shrugged.
However, by this time Siles was already so astonished that he paid little attention to Alva’s words. He merely said instinctively: “It’s nothing.”
Yet his brain was thinking—Mr. Xia? Mr. Xia?!
Chendo, who knew of Mr. Xia’s existence, looked at Siles and maintained a wise silence.
Dr. Chester and Alva were completely unaware, merely discussing the name’s singularity and strangeness, feeling thoroughly baffled and deciding not to ponder it further.
“Let’s play cards!” Alva said excitedly. “Professor, please serve as the Croupier again. When I returned to Lamifa City and had other friends act as Croupier, I always felt they favored a specific person.
“Yet you are different; every card seems fair in your hands, and so is every player. The card-playing experience like this is far better than those other biased Croupiers!”
Dr. Chester let out a low chuckle, saying: “However, Mr. Chendo is here as well.”
Alva froze rapidly, his gaze slowly shifting toward Chendo. Chendo had already snapped out of it, looking at him with keen interest while saying: “So, Alva, do you think Professor Noel doesn’t favor his assistant?”
Alva swallowed hard, ultimately yielding: “Of course he favors you.” He paused, “Wait, assistant?”
Chendo said smugly: “Of course, I have already become Siles’s assistant.”
“Oh, that truly is good news,” Dr. Chester said. “Hopefully Mr. Chendo can go easy on those students, lest the Professor’s reputation within the university continues developing toward a certain extreme direction.”
The three of them burst out laughing at the same time.
Siles: “…”
…He was still right here.
He said helplessly: “Let’s just play cards.”
He continued serving as the Croupier, still absently pondering the matter of “Mr. Xia” while shuffling and dealing.
Mr. Xia. Xia. Dawn Revelation Society. Fate Cards.
…Then, the first trial sample of Fate Cards must have also been in Mr. Xia’s hands. The two cards held by The Clown and Nanisal Bryant were given to them by Mr. Xia.
Siles thought with a calm attitude that surprised even himself that the possibility of Mr. Xia being a transmigrator seemed to be growing larger and larger. Furthermore, this mysterious “Mr. Xia” seemed to be faintly connected to him.
Yet the contradiction lay right here as well.
If Mr. Xia knew of Siles’s existence and was secretly helping Siles by giving him hints, why didn’t Mr. Xia contact and meet him directly?
Siles believed that if Mr. Xia truly came from Earth like him, Mr. Xia should also be able to discern his transmigrator identity. Then why prefer using a hidden method like Fate Cards to remind him rather than revealing his true self?
Besides, in name, Mr. Xia had already disappeared fourteen years ago. Mr. Xia had even lived for at least four hundred years.
He established the Dawn Revelation Society; he was connected to the high-level turmoil in the Duchy of Konst fourteen years ago. So, was he truly an ordinary human? Was he related to the deities, or even to Antinam?
After thinking for a moment, Siles couldn’t help feeling shrouded in mystery.
This mysterious Mr. Xia hid in the dark, faintly visible within darkness and mist.
What slightly reassured Siles was that he didn’t seem to harbor malice, merely maintaining his secrecy and low profile stubbornly and mysteriously.
…What on earth did he want to do? Siles couldn’t help giving rise to this thought.
Toward such a mysterious figure, he maintained an instinctive vigilance; he thought that perhaps when he had time, he should pay a visit to the Church of the Past. Conveniently, the Stardust vein as well as Chendo’s status as an Old God’s Scion could both be approached through the Church of the Past.
The reason he hadn’t done so was that the Church of the Past’s attitude always left Siles with doubts. But now it seemed that if he wanted to continue searching for clues, he likely had to visit the Church of the Past.
…Perhaps being open and honest was the better choice, Siles thought.
After pondering for a short while, he let go of these thoughts, no longer tormenting his brain.
When hanging out with friends, just enjoy the fun. Earthlings firmly believed in this.
For most of the card games, Siles served as the Croupier, though occasionally he would play a round or two himself. Usually, however, he would soon be driven back to deal cards by his friends—because his card luck was simply far too good.
Alva watched helplessly as his full-health Old God Card was reduced to zero health by Siles in just three cards, his entire gaze going blank for a moment. He said: “Professor, there is zero game experience in this!”
“I have plenty of game experience,” Siles said.
Alva: “…”
He looked at Siles in shock, his lips trembling and eyes stunned.
Chendo, serving as Croupier for this round, laughed so hard he leaned directly against Siles.
Dr. Chester chuckled quietly, saying: “Young Alva finally understands the cruelty of the human world at this moment.”
“…It’s the Professor’s cruelty!” Alva said loudly and indignantly, “I propose the Professor continues dealing cards next round! Who agrees and who opposes?”
“I agree,” Dr. Chester said.
Chendo stroked his chin in thought for a moment, then said: “I agree. Because when the Professor is Croupier, he always favors me.” He turned his head to glance at Siles, “Right?”
Siles said: “Of course.”
Alva looked up at the ceiling, muttering softly: “This game is unplayable.”
Dr. Chester laughed to the side.
They spent the afternoon together, chatting casually inside the room at 18 Housewell Street. The feeling seemed to return to the Light of First Snow train, while outside the window, the weather gradually grew gloomy, and snow indeed began to fall.
They talked about their life in Lamifa City over the past period. Dr. Chester and Alva simultaneously marveled at how busy Siles’s life and work were. Alva even asked boldly: “So do you two still have time to date?”
Siles glanced at him.
Chendo seemed about to say something, but Siles spoke a step ahead: “My motto is to blend dating into daily life, making it coexist with my schedule.
“If I originally intended to eat, I will choose to go together with Chendo; if I originally intended to read in the study, Chendo can sit in a place where I can see him whenever I look up.
“…I strive to achieve this, keeping our lives in sync.”
His words paused here, and everyone around looked at him.
Chendo stared at him as well, and after a short moment, he said: “But when you were reading, I was staring at you the whole time.”
Siles looked at him with slight confusion.
Chendo mumbled: “How come I’ve never seen you look up at me once? You were clearly reading the whole time!”
Siles: “…”
Alva burst out laughing, collapsing over the sofa armrest, laughing so hard that the cards in his hand scattered all over the floor. Dr. Chester laughed to the side as well, though not as exaggeratedly as Alva.
Chendo glanced at them, speaking rather unhappily: “What are you laughing at! That really was the case!”
Siles thought for a moment, ultimately sighing helplessly. He gently tugged Chendo’s braid, making Chendo look at him.
“Chendo, if you feel I ignored you,” he said, his voice deep and soft, “then you should remind me, instead of bottling it up and getting secretly angry, alright?”
Chendo stared at him blankly, and finally said: “Fine… fine, fine, I wasn’t angry… but…” He concluded, “I will work hard to be a little alarm clock, ringing and tapping every so often to let you know I’m right by your side.”
To the side, Dr. Chester and Alva exchanged a glance, then unanimously looked up at the ceiling.
Siles couldn’t help laughing, softly hugging Chendo briefly before turning to their two friends: “Apologies for taking up your time.”
“It’s nothing, I was the one who asked,” Alva said. “Besides, I was already psychologically prepared.”
Siles dazed.
Alva said without changing expression: “I’m used to it. Really. I got used to it back in the Ashless Lands.” He turned to Dr. Chester, “Right, Doctor?”
Dr. Chester nodded with a suppressed laugh, suddenly lamenting: “The days in the Ashless Lands have already been past for so long. It truly is quite incredible.”
“Indeed,” Siles said. “In the blink of an eye, this year is coming to an end.”
“Yeah,” Dr. Chester said, looking out the window. The cold snowflakes fell toward the ground as usual, resolute and without return.
They ate dinner at 18 Housewell Street. The wind and snow grew heavier at night, so they didn’t stay outside any longer, dispersing early.
Before leaving, Siles suddenly remembered something and called out to Alva and Dr. Chester. He said: “I have some matters I need to entrust to you two.”
Alva said in great surprise: “Professor, are you investigating something again?”
“Indeed,” Siles nodded, adding, “However, the tasks I am entrusting to you two are not the same thing.”
Alva’s gaze looked extremely admiring of Siles’s busyness.
Siles first mentioned to Dr. Chester the peculiar Doctor Hubert Fox at the West District Darwin Hospital. He asked Dr. Chester to inquire about some news from his doctor friends.
Next, Siles spoke to Alva about the young painter who had once appeared at the edge of Atherton Square wearing gold-rimmed glasses, always carrying a drawing board, and suspected to be a Revelator. He asked Alva to privately search for this person within painters’ circles.
Both Alva and Dr. Chester agreed readily.
Having finished discussing these two matters, they bade farewell to each other, taking rented carriages in the snow to hurry home. Siles specifically tipped the carriage driver extra money for this.
“At times like this, I really hope the underground railway matter can be put on the agenda quickly,” Chendo said.
Siles couldn’t help nodding as well: “Perhaps we can hear news regarding the start of construction next year.”
“Hopefully so,” Chendo said.
They bade farewell to each other. Siles quickly returned to 6 Hayward Street and lit the fireplace. Only when the temperature inside the room rose did he slowly feel better.
That night, he entered the deep-sea dream once more.
Unexpectedly, Nona wasn’t dreaming.
