A little later, Schiller called Harley. She practically flew over and said in utter disbelief, "You're selling the house?! This manor?"
As he recalled the names of the guests to invite to the housewarming party, Schiller said, "Yes. Most people here have moved away, and the community will decline soon enough. I came back rather late, so the house will already be difficult to sell. I'll need your help."
Harley looked a little sad. She raised her head and surveyed Schiller's study. "We spent quite a lot of time here. This manor's actually pretty nice, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it truly isn't very suitable for modern people anymore."
"You're a modern person? Now that's really surprised me!"
Schiller smiled with pursed lips. "Don't be surprised yet. You'll be even more surprised later, because I'm about to talk to you about money."
Harley immediately opened her mouth in an exaggerated gasp, then covered it, looking at Schiller as though he were some rare creature.
"I know you might want to buy this manor and keep it as a memento, but I don't think that's necessary. There really aren't many traces of life left here, nor is there anything that must be preserved."
"What about the memories?" Harley asked. "The memories that come back whenever we see these furnishings and arrangements?"
"They're in our minds, Harley, not in the house or on the furniture."
"That's you. You can perfectly recreate rooms you know in your Mind Palace, so of course you have those memories. But what about Jason and me? We spent part of our childhood here. You can't deny that."
Schiller frowned slightly, and a flash of pain crossed his face. He fell silent for a long while before finally saying, "If you want to reminisce about your childhood, you can