The merchant Billy obediently followed them to the police station and turned himself in, claiming responsibility for assault.
The surprised expressions on the officers’ faces made it clear that they found this situation highly unusual. Regardless, Billy was extremely cooperative; he even took the initiative to hand over the gun.
It was a small, delicate, all-silver pistol. It looked quite distinctive, carrying the air of an exquisite and unique antique firearm.
Siles heard one of the officers marveling, clicking his tongue and saying that it was surprising such an ancient gun could still be fired, and that it had been well-maintained.
A subtle sense of absurdity rose in Siles’s heart.
Clearly, that was just a Time Trace. He suspected that it probably didn’t even require bullets to fire invisible air bullets, thereby injuring others. Siles didn’t know the specific source of the weapon, but he guessed Billy might have acquired it through his own merchant channels.
That was not the point. What truly made Siles uneasy was…
The Elder of the Historical Society was the victim attacked by Billy, so he had accompanied the officers to give a statement. Although Siles had also been attacked by Billy, he was uninjured, so he was only briefly questioned before stepping aside.
He saw Detective Jon, who was standing in a corner of the police station, eyes lowered in thought, and walked over to his side.
Siles said, “It seems we failed after all.”
Jon gave a wry smile, rubbed his face, and said, “Yes, Professor.”
Billy’s cooperation indicated a conclusion: his plot at the Austin estate had already been achieved, so he had no need to stay there, and he didn’t even mind going to prison himself.
Jon pondered for a moment and then said, “Was that a ritual? And in that letter, the reason Marquis Austin asked me to bring more people along was perhaps because… it was a ritual that required bystanders?”
Siles said in a low voice, “Guests at the banquet.”
Of course, the more guests there were, the grander the banquet would be; the power manifested would be even stronger.
The divine seat of Timiafa was “The Head Chef of the Banquet,” so scenes related to grand feasts were the best way to maximally reproduce His power.
Jon muttered, “And the food for the banquet was Marquis Austin. No, a sacrifice? That sounds about the same.”
Siles couldn’t help but frown.
He thought to himself, if he traced it back, the whole thing started at the end of September, nearly a month ago, when the merchant Billy delivered that portrait to Marquis Austin.
At that moment, Marquis Austin gradually fell into a state of spiritual inactivity, while the portrait gradually gained activity—it was like a long, drawn-out process of preparing ingredients, wasn’t it?
The crazed Marquis Austin, influenced by Timiafa’s power, had turned on his servants in extreme hunger and longing. This was the reason for the deaths of those two servants.
He had eaten the flesh of his own kind—this had been their constant suspicion. And subsequent developments seemed to substantiate it. From that moment, the situation had been beyond saving.
However, it was precisely because of Marquis Austin’s madness that his family began to seek help from others. Detective Jon, Siles, and the Elder of the Historical Society had all tried to solve the matter.
This drew the attention of the merchant Billy, because he did not want them to interrupt the progress of the “ritual.”
Therefore, Billy hurried to visit Marquis Austin, hoping to make him keep a slightly lower profile—or at least not go mad quite so obviously.
However, perhaps it was precisely this visit that made Billy realize the time was ripe. Marquis Austin’s madness was already sufficient to satisfy the requirements of the ritual.
Thus, he played along and decided to do the opposite: let Marquis Austin invite those who had wanted to investigate, to witness the process of the ritual together—or rather, to become part of the ritual.
The huge contrast in Marquis Austin’s attitude before and after would naturally arouse suspicion, but it was precisely because of that suspicious mood that they had come to the Austin estate without hesitation, wanting to investigate the truth of the matter.
From that step on, Billy’s plot was achieved.
In the series of events just now, Billy had appeared to be coordinating the conversation between Marquis Austin and the others, but in reality, he was fueling the flames.
When the Elder of the Historical Society decided to destroy the portrait, Billy revealed his true intent: he would not let anyone destroy that painting; his ultimate goal was to let the “person” in the portrait consume Marquis Austin’s flesh.
He needed to simultaneously stimulate Marquis Austin to make him voluntarily “expand” and lose control, making him willingly offer his flesh, while also ensuring the portrait remained intact until the ritual was completed.
And he had actually succeeded. The premise for everything was that they did not know what Billy was truly planning; they thought Billy was just an ordinary merchant, and some even thought Billy was there to dissuade Marquis Austin.
After Marquis Austin completely lost control, they might have understood Billy’s plan, but it was already too late. In what totaled… thirty or forty seconds? Marquis Austin had gone from a person to a pile of bones.
Jon asked in confusion, “What exactly did this merchant intend to do? Just to kill Marquis Austin?”
“No,” Siles said in a low voice, “Their intentions are hidden even deeper. Perhaps it is to…”
Resurrect Timiafa.
Siles had noticed the strange expression on the portrait, looking like it felt the satisfaction of having eaten its fill. It made the originally static portrait become lively, like a living person.
…Activity.
From this point of view, the intentions of Billy and the people behind him were already self-evident.
They were actively “nurturing” the activity of the Time Trace, actively “feeding” insane humans as food. Their ultimate goal was to use humanity itself as offerings and sacrifices to awaken the god they worshipped.
But…
Siles also wondered why Billy would suddenly choose to expose himself at this time. Did he not know that Marquis Austin’s death would inevitably arouse suspicion?
Suddenly, he paused.
Jon said, “Even deeper?” He asked suspiciously, “But now, this merchant has been arrested; won’t they continue to investigate? Could it be that…”
Siles said in a low voice, “They are about to succeed, so they no longer care if they are discovered.”
Jon fell into silence.
At this moment, Siles saw the white-haired Elder walking over slowly.
The Elder’s rushing about over these past two days could be called extremely tiring, and he had even been accidentally injured. For a man of his age, it really was not easy. Both Siles and Jon greeted him.
“I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself yet,” the Elder said. He looked like a very gentle old man. “I am David Coffin. You can call me David directly.”
Siles and Jon also introduced themselves.
David said with a bitter smile, “It’s finally resolved, isn’t it?”
Siles and Jon looked at each other, and Jon said, “I’m afraid not.”
Siles took the initiative to ask, “Elder David, did you mention this matter to anyone after you visited Marquis Austin the day before yesterday?”
“What? Of course not,” David looked a bit puzzled. “Why do you ask?”
Siles said, “I have a suspicion. Why did the merchant Billy visit Marquis Austin shortly after you did, as if he had been alarmed by your actions?”
David fell into thought and then said, “I understand. It is indeed a great coincidence.” He paused, “I didn’t have contact with anyone after I left the Austin house, but that day, when Angela and I were leaving…”
He thought for a moment.
Siles and Jon both listened attentively.
David said, “We ran into Clarence Dwight in the hallway of the Historical Society. He greeted me and then politely asked where I was going. He is just like that.” He nodded toward Siles, “You might know that Elder’s personality, Professor Noel.”
Siles was stunned.
Clarence Dwight?
Siles was greatly astonished, not expecting this Elder to be involved.
“Clarence D… Dwight?” Jon whispered, “Why would he…”
It sounded like Jon also knew this Elder. Regardless, Jon had also come from the Historical Society, so it wasn’t surprising he knew Clarence.
But Siles still turned to look at him.
For some reason, after actually encountering the detective Jon, Siles always felt a sense of incongruity about him. He didn’t know where this incongruity came from; it might also be that the progress of the event had moved too fast, leaving Siles unable to think it through carefully for a moment.
The focus they were currently paying attention to was still Billy, and the Greyson Food Company.
Siles thought for a moment and said, “Whatever the plot of Billy and his group is, they are likely approaching success. Do you know of any major events involving food recently?”
“Food?” David fell into thought.
Just then, a group of officers hurried past them, carrying some items. Following behind the officers were Angela, Millicent, Dorothea, the Marchioness, and several servants.
It appeared the officers were transporting the “corpse” of Marquis Austin.
When the three of them had brought Billy to the station, they had also told the police about Marquis Austin. The police had departed at that time for the Austin estate in the northern suburbs to retrieve the body.
Now, Marquis Austin’s family had come as well.
However, Millicent and the Marchioness did not look sad, but rather shocked and terrified. Siles noticed that their hands were still trembling slightly.
He sighed inwardly.
The three of them stood in the corner of the police station as the Marchioness’s party walked over.
“Has the matter been resolved?” the Marchioness asked softly.
Siles hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. The Marchioness let out a terrified sob.
Siles asked once more, “Do you know of any major food-related events recently? Banquets, balls, dinners, parties…”
As he spoke, several of the nobles in front of him were suddenly stunned, and then exclaimed in unison.
“The banquet on the eve of the Day of Divine Birth!”
Siles, coming from a commoner background, was taken aback. The original Siles’s memories had never mentioned any “Eve Banquet.”
“It’s a banquet the nobles celebrate for the birth of Antinam on the eve of the Day of Divine Birth,” Angela explained hurriedly. “But actually, it’s just a… how should I explain it to you? It’s an occasion for the Grand Duke and the nobles to gather before winter. The Day of Divine Birth just happens to coincide with it.”
Siles realized.
He thought, the eve of the Day of Divine Birth? He remembered that the Greyson Food Company was preparing for large-scale discount activities on that very day. The two echoed each other, appearing to confirm that Greyson indeed intended to carry out some conspiracy on that day.
Siles then asked, “Will food be tasted at such a gathering?”
“Of course,” the Marchioness said in a low voice, “The Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess will each entertain guests with grand and solemn dinners. Legend has it that it’s a wish for sufficient food throughout the coming long winter. A beautiful wish.”
Siles thought that, it sounded incredibly luxurious and wasteful.
But that was not the point now.
He asked, “Do you know the food supplier for this year’s banquet?”
They looked at each other, and all shook their heads.
Angela said, “But this is easy to handle; just go and investigate.”
The Marchioness nodded as well, calling a servant over to whisper a few words. The servant then left.
After that, not a single one of them spoke, and the scene temporarily fell into silence.
Finally, the Marchioness said softly, “Thank you for your… selfless help. The Austin family will remember your helping hands.”
She held her daughter’s hand tightly, her eyes revealing a rare kind of determination. She still had many things to handle, including but not limited to the funeral after her husband’s death, managing the family assets, and raising her children, just like every widow of this era.
They had lost their husbands, but they still had to continue on their life paths.
When Siles walked out of the police station, it was nearly five o’clock. Detective Jon asked him, “Back to Beane Bookstore?”
Siles took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go.”
Elder David needed to go to the hospital for further examination; after all, he was old, and falling to the ground could easily cause other discomforts. Angela and the others accompanied the Marchioness back; it was likely not going to be an easy night for them.
The body of Marquis Austin and Billy remained at the police station, awaiting subsequent investigation and the closing of the case. Siles thought that this matter might eventually be transferred to the Historical Society.
Regardless, the matter of Marquis Austin could be considered temporarily put to rest.
They returned to Beane Bookstore. Ms. Carmin and Maynard were still waiting there, and seeing them return, they immediately looked over with curiosity.
They were not Revelators, so when Jon recounted the course of events, he used some embellished language. For example, regarding Marquis Austin’s body cracking open, he only said Marquis Austin had collapsed from severe injury… which didn’t seem incorrect.
Siles listened absent-mindedly, while thinking about some other matters in his heart.
Clarence Dwight was suspected of participating in a certain stage of this affair. Theoretically, this follower of Bloncani was unlikely to participate in the plot of Timiafa’s followers; even if he did, it should be in a state of hostility.
Timiafa, the god of gluttony and violent desire; Bloncani, the god of asceticism and silence.
These were two gods who, no matter how one looked at them, were diametrically opposed.
However, Clarence’s actions seemed to be helping the followers of Timiafa; at the very least, he had helped the merchant Billy. Besides him, Siles had no other suspects at the moment.
This made Siles think of something he had heard earlier.
Not long ago, when he visited the Church of the Past, Dominic had told him that members of the Torture Society had been quite restless recently, and some members had even run to the Gourmet Town in the southern suburbs to use hunger to combat the scent of food, in order to punish themselves.
And one of the members could not resist that temptation and, in a fit of madness, rushed to the Gourmet Town, stuffing various foods into his mouth, almost choking himself to death.
…It sounds a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it? But what if it were connected to today’s affair? What if it were linked to Clarence’s actions?
Were these two batches of Old God followers cooperating? If they were cooperating, what were they cooperating on? Did their respective actions hold any deeper symbolic significance?
Siles fell into deep thought.
Timiafa and Brancani. Their followers seemed to each have an organization or institution coordinating their actions. Timiafa’s Greyson Food Company, and Brancani’s Torture Society.
Greyson Food Company corresponded to food. They occupied the vast majority of the market in Lamifa and had also gained the love and following of a large number of East District residents through the Gourmet Town and stalls at the October Fair.
They were even very likely to become the suppliers for the banquet on the eve of the Day of Divine Birth. This was Siles’s conjecture.
That was a noble banquet, and from various angles, there was indeed the support of great nobles behind Greyson Food Company; after all, they had so easily escaped the follow-up investigation of the Gourmet Town out-of-control incident.
At the same time, Greyson also seemed to be secretly funding some less-than-legal industries—such as the small tent at the circus. This promoted certain desires in people’s hearts from another angle.
Gluttony and violent desire. They had already achieved both.
The Torture Society always hid in the darkness. The members of this organization had long been included on the official observation list, so everything they did looked—like a gathering of lunatics, didn’t it? It wouldn’t be strange for lunatics to do anything.
Even Dominic didn’t pay much attention to their actions because they had always been that way. He just thought about talking to the Dwight family, but hadn’t considered whether they had other intentions.
But they were indeed carrying out their ideas of asceticism; and they were so silent, so quiet, like invisible people, ignored by everyone, who thought they were just a bunch of fanatical cultists performing terrifying acts under extreme piety.
They buried their heads in their determined paths, striving to achieve their goals with astonishing perseverance and an unbelievable, frenzied faith.
Asceticism and silence. They had also achieved these.
Siles suddenly felt his heart jump. He unexpectedly discovered that no matter what these two batches of Old God followers wanted to do, they seemed to have already achieved parts of their ideas invisibly.
But could they really resurrect a god?
“…Professor Noel?”
A voice Revelators Siles from his contemplation.
He subconsciously looked up and noticed the gaze of Detective Jon, who happened to be looking over. That gaze carried a hidden sense of scrutiny and deliberation.
After his eyes met Siles’s, Jon was stunned for a moment, and then said, “Professor Noel, we have finished our chat and are planning to say goodbye to each other.”
Siles narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Yes, it’s getting late,” Ms. Carmin said, “Having heard the follow-up of this strange incident, I am already very satisfied.”
Maynard also nodded on the side. He revealed an expression of lingering enjoyment, as if he had been inspired by this case—a suspect who suddenly changed his mind. Interesting. His expression seemed to be saying exactly that.
Therefore, the two mystery novelists soon took their leave.
Jon was also about to leave, but was stopped by Siles.
“Mr. Detective, please enlighten me,” Siles said, “Why have you addressed me as ‘Professor Noel’ from the beginning?”
He finally realized where that sense of incongruity came from. When he first met Jon, why did Jon address him as “Professor”? Did he already know his identity?
If Jon had addressed him that way after arriving at Marquis Austin’s estate, that would have been fine, as students like Angela and Dorothea addressed him that way.
However, the first time they met at Beane Bookstore, Jon had already addressed him as “Professor.”
It was as if he had heard the name Siles Noel long ago.
Jon was stunned for a moment, then showed a slight wry smile: “I didn’t expect you to notice this detail… Yes, I have heard of you.” He said candidly, “From the Historical Society, and from some Revelators who are familiar with me.”
Siles was slightly startled.
Jon said, “Professor Noel, your ritual of ‘Reproducing Self’ has caused quite a stir among the Revelators. As far as I know, some Revelators are even trying this ritual in private, and with considerable effectiveness.”
Siles frowned and said, “That is just a prototype, not that complete yet.”
“Regardless, many people hold goodwill toward you because of it,” Jon said with a slight smile. “It is truly a pity that you are being viewed with hostility by some within the Historical Society.”
Siles gave him a deep look, ignoring the elements of suggestion and inducement in Jon’s tone—he suddenly thought, when Jon mentioned earlier that he had quit the Historical Society, did it have this intention?
He just said, “I have only just embarked on the path of the Revelators not long ago.”
Jon shook his head and said nothing. He bid Siles farewell and then left.
On the third floor of the quiet Beane Bookstore, Siles lowered his eyes thoughtfully, subconsciously pinching the bridge of his nose.
He didn’t know whether Detective Jon’s story was true or false. It sounded quite reasonable because of his experiment; so he had already heard the name Siles Noel, and naturally knew the title “Professor.”
But… since that was the case, why didn’t he say it sooner? Why not be more frank, instead of having to wait for Siles himself to think of the crux of the matter?
Moreover, Siles could understand Jon’s latent hostility and aversion toward the Historical Society; however, the sense of camaraderie and solicitation in his tone made Siles feel a bit surprised.
He hoped all this was just him overthinking, but… Jon Mansfield. What secrets were hidden behind this young detective? And did he indeed hide a secret?
As Siles thought about it, he suddenly sighed softly—why was he, the Keeper, the one who understood the secrets of these character cards the least?
He sat for a moment, then got up and walked out of Beane Bookstore.
He was planning to return to Lamifa University, but suddenly thought of something, deliberated for a moment, and decisively called a taxi, returning to the police station once more.
The police station was still brightly lit. After walking in, Siles found an officer and asked if they had ever investigated the circus at the October Fair.
“Oh, you mean that circus,” the officer said, “We investigated, and didn’t find any problems.”
As he spoke, he looked at Siles suspiciously.
Siles was slightly startled, then said, “And that small tent?”
“What small tent?” The officer grew a bit impatient, “That seems to be where they stack their items, right? I’m sorry, I didn’t go to investigate this matter personally—do you know how many unidentified corpses Lamifa produces every day?
“We don’t have much time to investigate a strange circus, not until they commit some major crime.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully, thanked the officer, and didn’t continue asking. He walked out of the police station and felt a cold chill in the night wind.
The police had indeed investigated the circus at the October Fair but hadn’t discovered anything unusual. Either someone had tipped them off in advance, or… the matter had been artificially covered up, so this officer who had not personally gone to the Arcade District knew nothing.
Regardless of the possibility, it meant that the plotting of the Greyson Food Company was still in progress, and… was very likely to harvest an outcome that would satisfy the mastermind behind the scenes.
Siles thought for a moment, then shook his head. He was currently waiting for the results of the investigation by Marchioness Austin’s side to see if Greyson had really become the supplier for the banquet on the eve of the Day of Divine Birth.
If that was the case, then to a certain extent, they had finally caught up with the footsteps of the conspiracy behind the scenes.
It was past six o’clock; Siles was extremely hungry, so he found a nearby restaurant for dinner and then took a taxi back to 6 Hayward Street.
While taking a shower, he reviewed his experiences of the day and sighed that it had truly been a long day.
The running around of the day made him a bit exhausted. After showering, he wiped his hair, read the newspaper for a while, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, he still woke up on time.
He was awake, but the cold air made Siles unable to help but stay in bed for a while longer. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about many things that might happen in the future, and only then, under the pressure of impending danger, did he slowly get out of bed.
After washing up, he changed his clothes and went out to the cafeteria to eat.
The first semester had ended, and the atmosphere at Lamifa University was much colder. The vast majority of students had gone home; even the few students who stayed at the school wouldn’t be waking up as early as Siles.
…Well, actually, under normal circumstances, Siles couldn’t manage such a good routine either. It was just that the power of Akamara was protecting him.
He thought that, as far as the matter went, the power of a god was just power, just as a weapon was ultimately nothing more than a weapon. The person who used this power was the one who truly decided its good or evil.
In this era where the Old Gods had already fallen, humanity didn’t seem to have found its own positioning yet. Many people seemed to prefer to return to the moment when the gods were still present, peacefully and ignorantly curling up under the protection of the gods, asking no questions about the world.
Humans are never willing to grow up, are they? Humans are always very difficult—very afraid—to control their own destiny. But if destiny were truly in everyone’s own hands, that would be equality and freedom in the greatest sense.
…Siles swallowed the last mouthful of hot milk and then warned himself that, on this morning, he seemed to have thought of too many irrelevant things.
This world is not the same as his former home planet. He should not generalize.
After eating breakfast, he went to the infirmary on the side of the main castle of Lamifa University.
Dr. Chester Fitzroy was already in the infirmary. He was the school doctor; even though the school was on vacation now, he still dutifully stayed at the school infirmary, just in case students, professors, or other staff members were injured and couldn’t find anyone.
He greeted Siles’s arrival with some surprise: “Professor Noel! What happened?”
He looked at Siles with concern.
“Nothing happened,” Siles said. He took out the eyeglass frame that Commander Bunyan had given him earlier from his pocket and said, “I hope to adapt my lenses to this frame. Can you do it?”
Chester took the frame, took Siles’s original pair of glasses, compared them carefully, and then said, “No problem. However, the lenses need to be ground a bit; please wait a moment.”
Siles felt relieved in his heart, nodded, and said, “Then I’ll trouble you.”
Chester got up and went to the equipment behind him to operate. After a round of grinding sounds from the machine, he installed the lenses into the frame, took a careful look, cleaned them, and handed them to Siles.
Siles put them on and felt they were just right, so he thanked him.
He hesitated and said, “Dr. Chester, you know, I plan to travel to the Ashless Land during the winter break. In fact, I have already bought a train ticket to the Ashless Land.
“I want to ask, do you recommend any medicine that is suitable to carry with me? Just in case I encounter any misfortune in the Ashless Land.”
He had wanted to know this question for a long time; he did not have much trust in the medical level of this era… But besides Chester, he didn’t seem to have anyone good to ask.
However, should he really ask Chester this question?
Chester was stunned, seeming to want to say something, but then thought of something else. After a moment, he slumped into his chair.
After a while, Chester suddenly raised his head, looking at Siles with near-anxiety, and said, “Medicine… do you think I should go with you? A doctor is always more useful than dead medicine, isn’t he?”
Siles was taken aback and said, “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“I understand,” Chester smiled, that smile appearing pale and hesitant, like the issue he had been thinking about these past few days. “I told you before that I never wanted to return to that damn place in my life, but…”
He was silent for a moment.
“Over the past few days, that image has kept appearing in my brain. I thought of how his legs had turned into statues, yet he was still alive. Perhaps I could have saved him; my mentor had told me about the method of amputation surgery…” he muttered.
Siles frowned slightly and said, “You shouldn’t continue to blame yourself; in any case…”
“In any case, I failed to save him,” Chester said in a low voice. “And yet, I’m still sitting in this comfortable school infirmary, enjoying a handsome salary, escaping that desolate land and the patients I abandoned.”
Siles was silent; he didn’t know what to say for a moment and even thought that perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned his imminent departure in front of Chester.
…No, he shouldn’t have come to find Chester.
Chester suddenly smiled and said, “Please let me think about it, okay? This should be decided by myself. Please let me think about it. From a certain point of view, at least I have been to the Ashless Land, while you haven’t.
“I cannot stand by and watch you go to the Ashless Land while I remain indifferent. Perhaps you will be injured, and you won’t be able to find a doctor. And I could have followed your footsteps and become a companion for this journey of yours…”
Siles was simply torn between laughter and tears. He really didn’t know how to console Dr. Chester.
From another point of view, he even felt that letting Dr. Chester go to the Ashless Land, perhaps after really saving a patient, he could escape this inner demon.
If they didn’t approach danger so actively, but kept cautious and rational, then the Ashless Land might not be that dangerous either.
But Siles still said, “I think you also know the dangers of the Ashless Land. I don’t want you to abandon your former ideas just because you are worried about my safety, actively placing yourself in danger.”
“No, not entirely for you,” Chester said quite candidly. “That is my… nightmare. The burden on my shoulders. The nightmare I think about and immerse myself in all day long. And I…”
He looked at Siles, as if talking to himself, and as if seeking agreement.
He said, “Do you think I should carry such a heavy burden for the next few decades?”
Siles was suddenly speechless; after a moment, he said in a low voice, “You’re almost convincing me, Doctor.”
Dr. Chester smiled wryly and said, “This is also what I have been thinking about desperately over the past few days.” He paused, “The me who confessed to you before, what a cowardly image that was.
“I have been terrified all along. For seven full years, I have not been willing to face that… nightmare that happened in the wilderness. Escaping, running away, fleeing… that is all I have done. But it will eventually catch up, eventually.”
He muttered.
Siles sighed in his heart, “I’m leaving on Thursday. Doctor, you can hesitate for a while longer.”
Dr. Chester nodded slowly.
Thus, when Siles walked out of the infirmary, he had acquired the [Akamara’s Eyeglass Frame] with the lenses installed, but he hadn’t managed to get the list of travel medicines he should have had. Instead, he had acquired a doctor companion who was very likely to join the journey…
Rounding it up, did he gain something?
No, Siles thought.
Thinking of Dr. Chester’s mental state, Siles could not feel relaxed or satisfied. He only felt that even though many people lived in the comfortable territory of the country, they were still shrouded in the fog of the Ashless Land in their hearts.
This was truly a worrying thing.
After leaving the infirmary, Siles went to the October Fair.
It was Monday morning; he planned to stroll around the market, buy some things he needed, as well as gifts for his mother. In addition, he planned to visit Professor Culverly today, so naturally, he needed to bring some gifts for him.
The Arcade District was as lively as ever; even though the weather was overcast and it was drizzling, people were still shopping and spending money happily under the glass roof.
Passing by Greyson’s dessert shop, Siles noticed that some young female guests seemed to have gathered in the shop, and there were some books placed on the tables and cabinets. They were discussing something enthusiastically.
This left Siles slightly puzzled. He originally wanted to go in to observe, but there were simply too many guests in the shop, so Siles abandoned the idea with regret. He only took two glances through the blurry, dirty glass window, noticing that the bindings of those books seemed somewhat familiar.
Not just the dessert shop, Greyson’s other shops were all in such a lively scene, as if they were promoting the upcoming discount activities. This caused a great deal of anxiety in Siles’s heart.
He tried to keep himself calm and warned himself that they were already in the process of investigation, so don’t be anxious.
Because he saw the lively scene of Greyson’s shop, Siles didn’t rush to buy the things he wanted. He first went to the performance area in the northwest corner of the Arcade District.
He noticed that the circus was still active, and that the two large and small tents were still standing there.
This made Siles frown slightly. He pondered for a moment and walked to the entrance of the large tent. The clown was squatting there doing nothing; seeing Siles, he revealed the clown’s iconic, huge smile.
“You! I’ve seen you!” the clown said.
“Good morning, Mr. Clown,” Siles said, “Is the astrologer lady there?”
The clown tilted his head. He juggled the cards in his hand, as if practicing his usual performance, and then shook his head, saying in a silly way: “She… has disappeared. Haven’t seen her for a long time.”
Siles was slightly startled, then sighed lightly.
Siles believed the astrologer knew quite a bit of insider information, but now she had disappeared. Had she fallen out with the circus? Siles came up with this guess.
The clown said mysteriously: “You—Sir, what do you want to know? Astrology? Predict the future?”
Siles asked, “Can you really predict the future?”
The clown looked at him blankly, then suddenly shut his mouth, muttering: “No… can’t tell you… at least not now…”
Saying this, he stood up and walked into the depths of the large tent without looking back.
Siles looked at his back, feeling somewhat confused. He then shook his head, not taking it to heart—he knew the clown was just such a crazy image, just like when he performed on stage.
Thinking of this, Siles sighed slightly in his heart. He had originally counted on obtaining some information from the circus, but he had returned empty-handed. He thought, it’s not like everything can go as planned.
So Siles left the performance area in the upper left corner and took the opportunity to start browsing the stalls and goods of the October Fair.
He bought a wool scarf, preparing to give it to his mother, following Mrs. Fuller’s suggestion. In addition, he chose a bottle of ink with a calm and elegant color for Professor Culverly—forget the fountain pen; he was a bit uneasy about these objects now.
It was said that this ink came from a distant foreign land, and the glass bottle containing the ink appeared distinctive and exquisite. Siles couldn’t help but buy one for himself as well. His new novel was already in the preparation process. To do a good job, one must first sharpen one’s tools, right?
There were also some shops selling clothing at the October Fair; Siles specifically bought some stain-resistant, windproof, and waterproof casual clothes to wear when in the Ashless Land. The colors were all black or brownish-gray.
He also bought a larger travel backpack and a single-shoulder messenger bag. He was going on an expedition, not really traveling, so carrying a suitcase would seem inconvenient; this kind of backpack was more suitable.
There were other scattered things, such as some food that he felt was unique—of course, he carefully avoided Greyson’s shops—some exquisite daily necessities, toothbrushes with softer bristles, and so on.
When he left the Arcade District, he felt as if he had been immersed in the trivial waves of life, forgetting the danger and undercurrents hidden beneath. It was as if he was just on an ordinary day, having a sudden whim to come to this strange district to shop wantonly.
Siles couldn’t help but shake his head, carrying the items he had purchased, and had to take a taxi back to 6 Hayward Street. After tidying up, he went to the cafeteria for lunch, and only then did he go to the Culverly mansion in the northern suburbs.
Professor Culverly’s mansion was still quietly hidden among the treetops. This house was actually not far from the Austin estate, but it seemed as if it didn’t know anything about what happened yesterday, still appearing quiet and peaceful.
A servant brought Siles to Professor Culverly. This time he came directly to the study on the third floor.
Professor Culverly was still sitting in his wheelchair, draped in a heavy overcoat. The fireplace was burning brightly, and the temperature in the entire study even made Siles feel a bit hot.
“Good noon, Professor Noel!” Professor Culverly said very enthusiastically, “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon; it really surprises me.”
“You are too polite,” Siles said politely, “I am very interested in the book you prepared.”
Professor Culverly smiled knowingly.
Siles handed the gift he brought to Culverly and said, “A beautiful ink.”
Professor Culverly dipped a quill pen into a little ink, tried writing a bit, and then said with satisfaction, “Indeed, the color is very beautiful—a brownish-red suitable for winter, and the bottle is also very beautiful.
“Don’t you think ink manufacturers nowadays like to use such beautiful bottles?”
Siles said, “That can always attract people’s attention at the first moment.”
“Packaging!” Culverly said, “Indeed. In the market, merchants need this kind of thing.”
Siles pondered and said, “Merchants will pass these extra costs on to the buyers. However, I think it is worth it for people to spend a little money and energy on things they like.”
“As long as it’s not excessive.” Culverly’s voice suddenly deepened.
Siles listened quietly.
Professor Culverly suddenly said, “Do you think, I spent so many years collecting so many books, but in my old age, I have no wife and no children, no one to accompany me… is this worth it?”
Siles was slightly startled and said, “Since you asked me this question, then I only have one answer: of course it’s worth it.”
Culverly couldn’t help but smile, sighing: “Yes… you like books too. You also feel it’s worth it.” He muttered, “I am about to die. Do you think I can live past this winter?”
Siles said, “You look quite healthy.”
“Quite healthy,” Culverly said in a low voice, “but perhaps I won’t live until that day—to collect enough books to make myself feel happy. Humans are always insatiable, and so am I.”
Siles was silent.
Professor Culverly suddenly said, “How terrible, I shouldn’t have mentioned so many boring topics to you. Let’s talk about books. I borrowed that Karacoc Diary, and many of the things mentioned in it made me feel very interesting.”
Siles said, “Indeed. Those are people from the Age of Silence.”
“Age of Silence,” Professor Culverly said, “That is exactly your specialty, right?”
“Yes.” Siles nodded.
Professor Culverly said, “When you are researching the literature of the Age of Silence, what kind of feeling do you have? Is it very different from modern literature?”
Siles pondered for a moment and said, “I should tell you this. From the Age of Divine Birth, Age of Faith, to the Age of Empire, to the Age of Shadow, Age of Silence, to the Age of Fog, the overall development trend of literature is that sacred texts gradually decrease, and secular texts gradually increase.
“And the Age of Silence is precisely the moment when that transformation was most frequent, most diverse, and most intense. Therefore, I cannot say that the literature of the Age of Silence is very different from that before or after the Age of Silence.
“Because the literature of the Age of Silence contained many, many things.”
Professor Culverly realized, and he said as if joking: “I have always been open to all comers, loving books of any era, but your words make me feel that perhaps I can collect and learn more about the literature of the Age of Silence in the future.
“It’s as if it were still a fetus in the womb. No one knows what kind of life is about to be born.”
Culverly’s metaphor made Siles feel a slight sense of incongruity, but he did not deny such a metaphor. The Age of Silence was a chaotic but quiet era, as if everything in the end only left the cold solitude of vast snow.
And after the snow, the vibrant spring was just around the corner. Life and death are always the closest and furthest apart.
“Look at me, saying so much, and forgetting the most important thing.” Professor Culverly said, “I have specially prepared a book for your visit today.”
He handed a book placed on the desk to Siles.
