The golden afterglow outside the window darkened. Klein looked into Melissa's eyes and found himself at a loss for words, because none of the lines he had prepared were of any use.
He cleared his throat twice, his mind racing.
"Melissa, this isn't wasting my salary. When Benson's colleagues and mine come to visit, are we supposed to entertain them in a place like this? When Benson and I get married and have wives, are we still supposed to sleep in bunk beds?"
"But neither of you even has a fiancée yet. We can wait a little longer and save more money," Melissa said with clear logic.
"No, Melissa, these are the rules of society." Klein felt quite a headache coming on and could only resort to broad principles. "Since I earn three pounds a week, we need to maintain the respectability befitting that salary."
To be honest, having once squeezed into shared accommodation, he was no stranger to their present living conditions and had adapted completely. But precisely because of that experience, he understood all the better how inconvenient such an environment was for a girl. Besides, his goal was to become a Beyonder, study mysticism, and find a "way" home. In the future, he would inevitably perform magical rituals at home, and with so many people and loose tongues in the apartment building, problems could easily arise.
Seeing that Melissa wanted to say more, Klein hurriedly added:
"Don't worry. I'm not considering a detached house. I'm planning to look at terraced houses. In any case, we need a bathroom of our own. Besides, I like Mrs. Slin's bread, Tingen pie, and lemon cake too. We can start by looking at places near Iron Cross Street and Daffodil Street."
Melissa pressed her lips together slightly. After a moment of silence, she slowly nodded.
"Besides, I'm not in a hurry to move. We have to wait for Benson to come back." Klein smiled. "Otherwise, when he opens the door, he'll be utterly shocked and say, 'Where are my things? Where are my brother and sister? Where's my home? Is this my home? Have I come to the wrong place? Goddess, please tell me this is a dream! How could I come back after just a few days away and not even have a home anymore?'"
He imitated Benson's tone, and Melissa's eyes unconsciously curved as she listened, shallow dimples appearing in her cheeks.
"No, Mr. Franky would be waiting at the entrance to make Benson hand over the apartment key. Benson wouldn't even get upstairs." The girl took a jab at their miserly, money-grubbing landlord.
In the Moretti household, everyone liked to make their landlord, Mr. Franky, the butt of a joke whenever the occasion arose. Their eldest brother Benson had started the tradition.
"Right, he certainly wouldn't change the lock for the next tenant." Klein smiled in agreement, pointed toward the door, and said humorously, "Miss Melissa, shall we celebrate together at the Silver Crown Restaurant?"
Melissa sighed softly.
"Klein, you remember Selena, don't you? My classmate and good friend."
Selena? An image immediately surfaced in Klein's mind: a girl with long burgundy hair and dark brown eyes. Her parents were both believers in the Evernight Goddess and had named her after Saint Selena as a blessing. Not yet sixteen, she was half a year younger than his sister Melissa, a cheerful, lively, outgoing girl.
"Yes." Klein nodded to show that he remembered Selena Wood.
"Her brother Chris is a solicitor, and he now earns nearly three pounds a week too. His fiancée works part-time as a typist." Melissa first described their circumstances before continuing, "They've been engaged for more than four years. To have a stable, comfortable life after marriage, they're still saving money today and haven't walked into a church yet. They plan to wait at least another year. According to Selena, people in circumstances like her brother's are all like that. They usually can't marry until they're at least twenty-eight. You need to prepare in advance, save properly, and not waste money."
It's just a meal at a restaurant. Does it really call for this much lecturing... Klein didn't know whether to laugh or cry. After thinking for a few seconds, he said, "Melissa, I already earn three pounds a week now, and it'll increase every year. You don't need to worry."
"But we need to save money for unexpected circumstances, like that security company suddenly closing down. One of my classmates had to leave school because the company her father worked for went bankrupt. He could only find temporary work at the docks, and their family's circumstances deteriorated overnight." Melissa earnestly tried to persuade her brother.
...Klein covered his face with one hand.
"That... that security company has ties to the government. Yes, some ties to the government. It won't just close down."
"But the government isn't stable either. After every election, if the party in power changes, the vast majority of positions change hands, and everything becomes a mess," Melissa countered persistently.
...Sis, you really do know a lot... Both exasperated and amused, Klein shook his head.
"All right..."
"Then I'll make a soup with the ingredients left over from yesterday. Go out and buy a pan-fried meaty fish, a piece of beef with black pepper sauce, a small jar of cream, and a cup of ginger beer for me. In any case, we should still celebrate a little."
These were all foods frequently sold by the vendors on Iron Cross Street. A pan-fried meaty fish cost six to eight pence, a not particularly large piece of beef with black pepper sauce cost five pence, a cup of ginger beer cost one penny, and a small jar of cream, about a quarter of a pound, cost four pence-buying a whole pound of cream cost only one soli and three pence.
During every holiday, the original Klein had been responsible for buying the family's ingredients, so he was familiar with the prices. After a few seconds of mental arithmetic, Klein arrived at a total of roughly one soli and six pence and took out the two one-soli notes.
"All right." Melissa no longer objected. She set down her bag of stationery and took the notes.
Watching his sister take out a small jar for the cream and a bowl for the other food, then walk briskly toward the door, Klein thought for a moment and called out to stop her.
"Melissa, buy some fruit with the money left over."
Many vendors on Iron Cross Street bought poor-quality fruit or fruit that had been stored too long from elsewhere. The people here were not angry about this, because the prices were very low. Once home, they only had to cut away the rotten parts to enjoy the delicious fruit. It counted as an inexpensive treat.
After saying this, Klein strode over, took the copper pennies he had left from earlier out of his trouser pocket, and placed them in his sister's palm.
"Huh?" Melissa looked at her brother with confusion and bewilderment in her brown eyes.
Klein stepped back twice and smiled slightly.
"Remember to go to Mrs. Slin's and reward yourself with a small slice of lemon cake."
"..." Melissa opened her mouth and blinked. In the end, she said only one word: "Okay."
She quickly turned, opened the door, and went out, her footsteps pattering toward the stairs.
A river flowed through the grounds, with cypress and maple trees lining both banks. The air was so fresh it was almost intoxicating.
Having come to deal with the interview, Klein stepped off the public carriage for which he had paid six pence, a revolver tucked inside his clothes and a cane in hand. He followed the cement-paved road toward a three-story brick-and-stone building nestled amid the greenery. It was Tingen University's administrative building.
"Worthy of being one of the two most famous universities in the Kingdom of Loen..." Klein, visiting for the "first time," sighed in admiration as he walked.
Compared with this place, Hoy University across the river could practically be called shabby.
"Heave! Ho!"
The cries drew closer as two racing boats surged down from upstream on the River Hoy, their wooden oars moving in neat, orderly strokes.
Rowing was popular at every university in the Kingdom of Loen. Even Klein, whose family circumstances required him to rely on scholarships to finish university, had joined Hoy University's rowing club with Welch and the others and become a skilled rower.
"So young..." Klein stopped to watch from a distance and sighed.
In another week, such a scene would no longer exist, because the university would be on summer vacation.
Following the tree-shaded road, he reached the gray three-story brick-and-stone building. After registering, he entered without trouble and found his way to the office where he had been received last time.
Knock! Knock! Knock! He curled a finger and lightly tapped on the half-open door.
"Come in," a male voice called from inside.
Seeing Klein push open the door and enter, the middle-aged faculty member in a white shirt and black tailcoat frowned slightly.
"The interview isn't for another hour."
"Mr. Stone, do you remember me? Senior Associate Professor Cohen's student, Klein Moretti. You read my recommendation letter." Klein smiled and removed his hat.
Havon Stone stroked his thick black beard and asked in puzzlement:
"Is there something you need? I'm not in charge of the interviews."
"Well, I've already found a job, so I won't be attending today's interview." Klein truthfully explained why he had come.
"I see..." Havon Stone understood. He stood and extended his right hand. "Congratulations. What a polite young man. I'll let the professor and the senior associate professors know."
Klein shook his hand and was about to exchange a few pleasantries before taking his leave when a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Moretti, you've found another job?"
Klein turned and saw an elderly man with a full head of silver hair, pronounced features, and few wrinkles. His eyes were deep-set and dark blue, and his black tailcoat was immaculate.
"Good morning, sir. Mr. Azik." He hurriedly greeted them. "What brings you here?"
The elderly man was a senior associate professor in Hoy University's history department and his mentor, Mr. Quentin Cohen. Beside Cohen stood a middle-aged man of average build with bronze skin. He held a newspaper and was clean-shaven, wearing a top hat. He had black hair, brown eyes, and gentle features. An indescribable sense of the vicissitudes of life showed in his eyes, and below his right ear was a black mole that could only be noticed upon close inspection.
Klein recognized him as Mr. Azik, a faculty member in Hoy University's history department who had often helped the original Klein. He liked to argue with Klein's mentor, Senior Associate Professor Cohen, and their views often clashed. In truth, however, the two were close friends; otherwise, they would not have enjoyed getting together to chat.
Cohen nodded and said in an unhurried tone:
"Azik and I are here for an academic conference. What job have you found?"
"A security company that searches for, collects, and protects antiquities. They need a professional consultant. Three pounds a week." Klein repeated what he had told his sister yesterday, then explained, "As you know, I like exploring history rather than summarizing it."
Cohen nodded slightly.
"Everyone has their own choices. I'm very pleased that you remembered to come and inform Tingen University instead of simply failing to attend."
At that moment, Azik interjected with a question:
"Klein, do you know what happened to Welch and Naya? I read in the newspaper that they were killed by burglars."
The case has been changed to a burglary? And it's already in the newspaper? Klein froze for a moment, then chose his words carefully.
"I'm not too sure about the details either. Earlier, Welch obtained a notebook belonging to the Antigonus Family of the Fourth Epoch's Solomon Empire and asked me to decipher it with him. I went for a few days at first, but then I became busy looking for work. The police came to see me a couple of days ago."
He deliberately revealed "Solomon Empire" and "Antigonus Family," hoping to see whether the two history teachers knew anything.
"The Fourth Epoch..." Cohen murmured with a frown.
Azik, with his bronze skin and world-weary eyes, first stared blankly, then drew a breath and rubbed his temple with the left hand holding the newspaper.
"Antigonus... It feels very familiar... But I just can't remember where I heard it..."