Chapter 369: Compatibility Test

The next day was Saturday. Grey said she wanted to eat sandwiches with him on a park bench.

Richard thought it was a joke at first, but over the phone, she had earnestly given him the address:

A wooden bench by the curve near Serpentine Lake, right at the East Gate of Kensington Gardens.

When he arrived, the girl was already sitting there.

She was bundled up tightly, a stray lock of windblown hair resting against her cheek.

An oil paper package lay open across her lap, and beside it sat a tin cup and a thermos.

"Should we find a place indoors?" Richard asked, taking a seat next to her.

"No need. Here is fine."

Grey pushed the oil paper package toward him.

"Ham. The butcher said it was his last piece, and he couldn't guarantee he'd get any more stock next week."

"His ham has always sold well. How did he run out?"

"The Quartermaster Bureau requisitioned all the meat-packing plants near my school to supply the front line."

Grey unscrewed the thermos cap and poured hot tea into the tin cup.

Richard took the cup, bringing it to his lips and blowing on it.

A few dead leaves floated on the surface of Serpentine Lake, while a waterfowl crouched on a rock by the shore, its neck tucked in.

The park was mostly empty. Occasionally, an old woman bundled in a scarf would walk past with a short-legged dog.

The dog, also wearing warm clothes, would take two steps and look back at its owner, then take two more and look back again, as if checking that the old woman was still following.

Grey handed the sandwich to Richard.

The sliced bread was a bit hard and the edges were unevenly pressed, but the cut was clean.

The ham was sandwiched between lettuce and a half-slice of tomato, with a thin layer of butter spread on the bread.

Richard took a bite.

"It's good."

Grey bit into her own portion, chewing a couple of times before looking out toward the lake.

Daylight in December was fleeting. At three in the afternoon, the sun was already starting to sink toward the treetops.

Light filtered down through the branches and struck the water, shattering into scattered gold.

The two of them simply sat on the bench, eating their sandwiches.

Grey ate very politely, chewing with her lips closed, her cheeks barely moving.

"Actually, when I first wrote that letter,"

The girl topped off his tin cup with another half-cup of tea.

"That line about park benches and sandwiches was a joke."

"Then why..."

"But then I thought about it." She screwed the cap back onto the thermos.

"A park bench didn't seem so bad after all."

"Restaurants have shrunk their menus. I called to ask, and the head chef said they've cut their desserts down to just one, and they're using frozen meat for the roast beef shank."

She stuffed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged slightly, and she waited until she swallowed to continue.

"We might as well sit outside."

Richard set the tin cup on the armrest of the bench.

"What happened with your family's ships?"

Grey lowered her head.

"My father went to the Admiralty two more times. The second time, he couldn't even get through the door."

"Our family only has two small boats left now, running short coastal routes.

The ocean line is broken. All the spices we imported from the Eastern Continent are stuck in a transit port, and we can't get them back."

As she spoke, her hand unconsciously tugged at a loose thread on her hem.

"Let me show you the box of Divine Throne Frost Pods you gave me before."

Richard fished the bean out of his inner coat pocket. Even though it was wrapped in several layers of paper, the frost on the pod's shell hadn't melted at all.

"They sprouted," he said, handing the paper packet over. "The second generation. It's for you."

Grey took the bean, pinching it between two fingers.

"Thank you. My parents will probably be interested in this."

The girl poured him the last half-cup of tea.

"Any plans for the New Year?"

"My whole family is coming to the Imperial Capital for Christmas, and my sister is applying to the Culinary College."

"Her scones—I remember bringing them to school for you to try before."

Grey thought back for a moment.

"I have a vague memory of that. She put in too much sugar; they were a bit too sweet."

Richard dusted the breadcrumbs off his hands, imagining his sister's reaction to that review.

"If she knew you said that, she'd bake another batch tomorrow just to shut you up."

Hearing that, the girl smiled—a toothy, not-so-polite kind of smile.

As the two chatted, the sky gradually grew dim.

Richard helped her pack the thermos and tin cup back into her canvas bag.

"Let's go. I'll walk you to the station."

The two of them walked along the cobblestone path by the lake for a while.

By the time they exited through the park's East Gate, the streetlights had just flickered on.

Grey walked half a pace to his left. The canvas bag swayed on her shoulder, rhythmically bumping against her side.

"Grey."

"Hmm?"

"Next year, if you have time, I'll take you to a proper restaurant for our next meal."

Grey gave him a measuring look.

"Restaurants must be really expensive right now..."

"My scholarship just came in. I can afford it."

Grey turned her face toward the streetlights, so Richard couldn't clearly see her expression.

"It's rare for you to take the initiative to invite me out. Of course I'll have time."

...

Upon returning to the school, Richard went straight to the training room.

He drew in his Tide-Shifting Breathing, letting the ether in his Micro-circulation drop into a standby state.

The Solar Tradition's Solar Corona Method was up first.

The outline stated it clearly: use the heartbeat as the foundational rhythm, and layer light and heat visualization on top of the Fourfold Breathing framework.

The object of visualization was the Seat of the Sun itself—treating it as a star radiating outward with every breath.

Richard closed his eyes, tuning into the sound of his heartbeat until he could hear it.

Thump... thump... thump...

He could construct the framework of Fourfold Breathing with his eyes closed.

The Solar Corona Method added an extra step to this framework:

During every exhalation phase, the ether inside the Seat of the Sun had to be 'pushed' outward, and this push had to carry heat.

He had to imagine himself as a sun spitting out solar prominences.

On the first exhalation cycle, he tried pushing the ether out a little.

The ether indeed moved. Starting from the Seat of the Sun, it spread along his main meridians toward the walls of his chest cavity.

When it reached the inside of his ribs, he felt a scorching heat, far stronger than the sensation of Healing.

Then came the problem.

When he pushed on the second beat, the ether got stuck at the corner where his ribs met his spine.

He tried pushing with more force.

After swirling for two rotations, the ether's flow started to skew.

What was supposed to radiate evenly outward drifted into a lopsided spread—strong on the left, weak on the right.

His left intercostal muscles grew painfully hot and swollen, while his right side remained icy and neglected.

Richard retracted his force and ran through two more complete cycles.

The result was about the same.

Every time he pushed it to that corner, a small cluster of ether stubbornly refused to follow the path dictated by the Solar Corona Method.

It preferred to take a detour rather than be compressed into an evenly radiating fan.

Richard opened his eyes and used a pencil to jot down a line in the margin of the outline.

"Can complete the path, but there is resistance at the corners. Insufficient uniformity. Compatibility rating: Usable."

He flipped the Solar Corona Method outline aside and pulled out the middle one.

Classical Records Tradition, Deep Reading.

His aunt's handwriting appeared in several places on this outline.

Some parts were circled over and over in red pen, with notes in the margins reading, "Easy to get lost here."

The introductory method for Deep Reading was entirely different from the Solar Corona Method.

It didn't require pushing the ether out; instead, it demanded pulling it in.

The first paragraph of the outline was very straightforward:

"The practitioner shall draw all ether into the Seat of the Sun while meditating, until the ether density inside reaches at least three times its usual level.

Once the gathering is complete, the practitioner uses this high-density state to enter 'Reading'."

Reading what?

"Read the vibrational frequency of every meridian within your own Micro-circulation."

Richard followed the instructions, and the process of gathering the ether went smoothly.

The density was indeed rising. Two times... two and a half times...

By the time it hit three times, the space within the Seat of the Sun was nearly bursting with ether.

Richard steadied his breathing and began to 'read'.

He spread his Inspiration into his Micro-circulation. Every single meridian was vibrating at a different frequency.

The main meridians had the lowest frequency, like the open strings of a cello;

The branch meridians were slightly higher, like a viola;

The terminal capillary meridians had the highest frequency, buzzing together densely like the beating wings of mosquitoes.

He 'listened' for about thirty seconds.

During those thirty seconds, the synergistic effect of his Erudition and Learning automatically kicked in.

His compatibility was far better than with the Solar Corona Method. The ether-gathering process faced zero resistance, and the 'reading' state could be easily maintained.

But he faintly felt that something was missing.

How to put it... The Solar Corona Method was like wearing a pair of shoes that were a size too small; you could walk, but your toes would get jammed and it hurt.

Deep Reading was like wearing shoes that fit perfectly. Snug, comfortable.

But Richard wanted to wear a pair of shoes that helped push him along... like, say, skateboard shoes.

He wrote a second line next to the outline.

"Good compatibility. No resistance in gathering. Reading state sustainable. Compatibility rating: Suitable."

The final one was the one he looked forward to the most: the Mirror Tradition's Mirror Condensation Method.

The outline was very thin with very few words, its layout extremely sparse. Only a single line was printed at the top of the first page:

"Speculatio: Use stillness as a mirror; use breath as water."

The introductory method was even simpler—so simple that Richard initially thought he had missed something.

There were only three steps on the outline.

Step one: run the original breathing method as usual.

Step two: during the breath-holding phase, gradually suppress your own ether fluctuations until they approach zero.

Step three: when the ether fluctuations drop below the threshold, a surface of Still Water will naturally form over the practitioner's body.

Any external ether fluctuations shining upon this Still Water will cast a reflection.

That was it. There was only one requirement—stillness.

Richard drew up his Tide-Shifting Breathing once more.

The wave-like rhythm swelled within his chest cavity, rising on the inhale and falling on the exhale.

When he reached the breath-holding phase, he began to suppress it.

The ether fluctuations dropped from their normal level, falling to eighty percent... seventy percent...

At sixty percent, his chest grew a bit quieter, and it felt as if the volume of the entire room had been turned down.

The moment he crossed the thirty percent line, all the information within the training room flooded into him at once.

The way it poured in was completely different from Spirit Vision.

He didn't need to seek it out; it all lined up to find him.

The refined silver coating of the copper targets reflected upon his chest, while the sealing inscriptions reflected across his back.

Richard opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.

His fingertips were trembling slightly. The invading reflections hadn't completely receded yet.

The sound of his own breathing rang loudly in his ears.

A gust of wind fluttered half a page of the outline.

He pressed the paper down and wrote the third line beside it.

"..."

His pen hovered over the paper.

After thinking for a long time, what he finally wrote was: "A perfect fit."