He sat back down in the chair. Only when the bells of the distant church rang again, seven times in succession, did Zhou Mingrui slowly rise, walk to the cupboard, and take out his clothes.
A black waistcoat, a formal suit of the same color, trousers slightly tight around the ankles, and a top hat of moderate height, coupled with a faint scholarly air-when Zhou Mingrui saw himself in the mirror, he felt as though he were watching a British drama set in the Victorian era.
"I'm not going for an interview. I'm just buying groceries and preparing the materials for the luck enhancement ritual..." he suddenly muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle.
Klein had been so preoccupied with the upcoming interview that it had become a bodily instinct. Whenever Zhou Mingrui was not paying enough attention, he would habitually put on this one set of presentable clothes.
Exhaling, Zhou Mingrui took off the suit and waistcoat and changed into an old, tawny coat, replacing his hat with a round-brimmed felt hat of the same color.
Having made himself presentable, he walked over to the bunk bed, lifted the upper mattress, and slipped his hand through an inconspicuous hole underneath. After feeling around, he found the hidden compartment.
When he withdrew his right hand, he held a roll of banknotes, some seven or eight of them, dark green fading to white.
This was all of Benson's current savings, including their living expenses for these three days. There were only two five-soli notes; the rest were one-soli notes.
In the Kingdom of Loen's currency system, the soli occupied the second tier. Derived from ancient silver coins, one soli equaled twelve copper pence, and the notes came in denominations of one and five.
At the top of the currency system was the gold pound. It, too, was paper money, but it was backed by and directly pegged to gold. One gold pound equaled twenty soli, and the notes came in denominations of one, five, and ten.
Zhou Mingrui unfolded the banknotes and caught a very faint whiff of their distinctive ink.
This was the smell of money.
Perhaps it was the influence of Klein's memory fragments, or perhaps it was his own unchanging desire for money, but at that moment, Zhou Mingrui felt that he had fallen in love with these little fellows.
Look, their designs are so exquisite. Even the stern, staid George III, with his little mustache, looks so adorable...
Look, the watermark seen through the sunlight is so alluring. That meticulously designed security feature makes it utterly different from those flashy counterfeit sluts!
After admiring them for several dozen seconds, Zhou Mingrui took out two one-soli notes, rolled up the rest, and stuffed them back into the compartment inside the mattress.
Smoothing down the strips of fabric around the hole, Zhou Mingrui neatly folded the two banknotes he had taken and put them in his tawny coat's left pocket, separate from the few pence in his trouser pocket.
Once that was done, he tucked his keys into his right pocket, picked up a large dark brown paper bag, and strode toward the door.
Tap, tap, tap. His footsteps slowed, then stopped altogether.
Zhou Mingrui stood by the door, his brows having furrowed without his realizing it.
There were quite a few unanswered questions surrounding Klein's suicide. If he went out just like this, would he encounter some kind of "accident"?
After a moment's thought, Zhou Mingrui returned to the desk, opened the drawer, and took out the revolver that gleamed with a brassy luster.
It was the only weapon for self-defense he could think of, and a sufficiently powerful one at that!
Although he had never practiced shooting, surely just drawing the gun would be enough to scare someone off!
Rubbing the cold metal cylinder, Zhou Mingrui slipped the gun into the pocket holding the banknotes. He clenched the notes in his palm and pressed his fingers firmly around the grip, concealing it perfectly.
A sense of security welled up within him, but with his smattering of knowledge about everything, a sudden concern occurred to him:
Could it go off accidentally?
Thoughts came thick and fast, and Zhou Mingrui soon found a solution. He pulled out the gun, swung the cylinder out to the left, rotated the chamber left empty by the "suicide" into the firing position, and snapped it shut.
This way, even if it went off accidentally, it would only fire an "empty chamber"!
After tucking the gun away again, Zhou Mingrui kept his left hand in his pocket without taking it out.
He pressed down his hat with his right hand, pulled open the door, and went out with a clatter.
The corridor was still dim during the day, with very little sunlight coming through the window at its end. Only after Zhou Mingrui hurried down the stairs and left the apartment building did he feel the brightness and warmth.
Although July was approaching and it was midsummer, Tingen lay in the north of the Kingdom of Loen and had a distinctive climate. Even the highest temperature of the year was below Earth's thirty degrees Celsius, and the early mornings were cooler still. In places along the street, filthy water flowed everywhere and rubbish lay scattered about. In Klein's memories, such scenes were by no means uncommon in low-income neighborhoods, even those with sewers, because of the number of people, because of life.
"Come and get it! Delicious pan-fried meaty fish!"
"Hot, fresh oyster soup! A bowl in the morning will keep you going all day!"
"Fresh fish straight from the harbor! Only five pence each!"
"Little muffins! Eel soup with ginger beer!"
"Sea snails! Sea snails! Sea snails!"
"Vegetables freshly picked from farms outside the city! Cheap and fresh!"
Street hawkers selling vegetables, fruit, and cooked food shouted loudly, calling to the passersby hurrying along. Some stopped to compare carefully before buying, while others waved impatiently, having yet to find work for the day.
Breathing air in which stench and fragrance rose in turn, Zhou Mingrui firmly held the gun's grip and clenched the banknotes in his left hand. With his right hand holding down his round-brimmed felt hat, he bent slightly and lowered his head as he passed through the bustling street.
Where there were crowds, there were pickpockets, especially in this neighborhood, with its many underemployed poor doing odd jobs and hungry children acting at others' bidding.
He continued onward. Once the crowd around him thinned to a normal density, Zhou Mingrui straightened his back, raised his head, and looked toward the street ahead.
A wandering accordionist was playing there, his melody sometimes lilting, sometimes lively.
Quite a few children surrounded him, their clothes ragged and their faces sallow from malnutrition.
Listening to the music and following its beat, they swayed instinctively and performed dances of their own invention. Their faces were filled with joy, as though they were little princes, little angels.
A woman with a numb expression walked past, her skirt filthy and her skin dull.
Her eyes were vacant and lifeless. Only when she looked at the children did a faint glimmer pass through them, as though she saw herself thirty years ago.
Zhou Mingrui overtook her, turned onto another street, and stopped in front of Slin Bakery.
The bakery's owner was an elderly woman in her seventies named Wendy Slin. Her hair was entirely gray, and a gentle smile always filled her face. She had been selling bread and pastries here for as long as Klein could remember.
Mm, the Tingen biscuits and lemon cakes she bakes herself are delicious... Zhou Mingrui swallowed and said with a smile:
"Mrs. Slin, eight pounds of rye bread."
"Oh, little Klein, where's Benson? Isn't he back yet?" Wendy asked, beaming.
"Another few days," Zhou Mingrui replied vaguely.
As Wendy picked up the rye bread with tongs, she remarked:
"He's such a hardworking young man. He'll have a good wife."
At this, the corners of her mouth rose, and she smiled a little mischievously.
"Things are better now. You've graduated, our history graduate from Hoy University~ Mm, you'll soon be earning money. You shouldn't be living in an apartment like that. You should at least have a bathroom of your own."
"Mrs. Slin, you really are like a young, lively lady today." Zhou Mingrui could only respond with a dry chuckle.
If Klein could pass the interview and become a lecturer at Tingen University, the entire family would indeed be heading straight for a comfortable life!
In his memory fragments, he had even imagined renting a detached house near the suburbs, with five or six rooms, two bathrooms, and a large balcony upstairs, and two rooms, a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and an underground storeroom downstairs.
This was not an extravagant hope. Even a lecturer on probation at Tingen University could earn two gold pounds a week, rising to three pounds and ten soli after confirmation. By comparison, Klein's older brother Benson had worked for years and still earned only one pound and ten soli a week. Ordinary factory workers earned less than a pound or only a little more, while the rent for such a detached house ranged from nineteen soli to one pound and eighteen soli.
That's the difference between earning three or four thousand a month and fourteen or fifteen thousand... Zhou Mingrui muttered inwardly.
However, all of this depended on passing the interview at Tingen University or Backlund University.
As for other avenues, someone without connections could not obtain a recommendation to become a public servant. History graduates had an even narrower range of employment, with little demand for private advisers among nobles, bankers, or industrial magnates.
Considering that the knowledge Klein possessed had also become "fragments," incomplete and riddled with gaps, Zhou Mingrui felt thoroughly embarrassed and unsure of himself in the face of Mrs. Slin's expectations.
"No, I've always been this young," Wendy replied humorously.
As she spoke, she packed the sixteen weighed loaves of rye bread into the large dark brown paper bag Zhou Mingrui had brought, then held out her right hand.
"Nine pence."
Each loaf of rye bread weighed around half a pound, with some variation being unavoidable.
"Nine pence? Wasn't it eleven pence a couple of days ago?" Zhou Mingrui asked instinctively.
Two months ago, it had even cost fifteen pence.
"You should thank the repeal of the Corn Laws, and the people who marched," Wendy said with a smile, spreading her hands.
Zhou Mingrui nodded with only a hazy understanding. Klein's memories of this were somewhat incomplete. He only remembered that the essence of the Corn Laws was to protect the prices of domestic agricultural produce. Until prices rose to a certain level, grain from southern countries such as Feynapotter, Masin, and Lenburg would not be imported.
Why would people march against it?
Without saying more, Zhou Mingrui carefully felt for the banknotes, afraid of bringing out the revolver with them. He took out one and handed it to Mrs. Slin.
After receiving three copper pence in change and putting them into his trouser pocket, he carried the paper bag of bread toward the Lettuce and Meat market one street away, working toward the lamb stewed with tender peas his sister had requested.
At the intersection of Iron Cross Street and Daffodil Street was a municipal square. Many tents had been erected there, and clowns in strange, comical outfits were handing out flyers.
"A circus performance tomorrow night?" Zhou Mingrui glanced at a flyer in someone else's hand and quietly read out its general contents.
Melissa would definitely like this. I wonder how much the tickets cost? With that passing thought, Zhou Mingrui approached.
Just as he was about to ask a clown dressed in red and yellow, a husky female voice suddenly came from beside him:
"Would you like a divination?"
Turning instinctively, Zhou Mingrui saw a woman standing before a low tent, wearing a pointed hat and a long black dress.
Her face was covered in red and yellow greasepaint, and her gray-blue eyes were deep.
"No," Zhou Mingrui answered, shaking his head. He had no money to spare for divination.
The woman smiled and said:
"My tarot divinations are very accurate."
"Tarot..." Zhou Mingrui froze.
That sounds very much like the tarot cards on Earth!
And tarot cards on Earth were a kind of playing card used for fortune-telling, only with the addition of some "picture cards," each bearing its own symbolic imagery.
Wait... He suddenly remembered the origins of tarot divination in this world.
It had not come from the seven orthodox deities, nor was it a legacy of ancient times. Rather, it had been invented over a hundred and seventy years ago by Roselle Gustav, then the consul of the Republic of Intis.
This Mr. Roselle had invented the steam engine, improved sailing ships, overthrown the rule of the Kingdom of Intis, and gained the recognition of the Church of the God of Craftsmanship, becoming the new republic's first consul.
Later, he waged war far and wide, brought countries such as Lenburg under his protection, and made the Kingdom of Loen, Feynapotter, the Feynapotter Empire, and other powerful nations of the Northern Continent bow their heads one after another. He then turned the republic back into an empire and proclaimed himself "Caesar the Great."
It was during Roselle's reign that the Church of the God of Craftsmanship received its first public oracle since the beginning of the Fifth Epoch, changing the deity's title from "God of Craftsmanship" to "God of Steam and Machinery."
Roselle had also invented tarot divination and established the composition and rules of modern playing cards. These included several games familiar to Zhou Mingrui, such as Tractor, Fight the Landlord, Texas Hold'em, and Gwent...
In addition, he had sent fleets through storms and turbulent currents to discover a sea route to the Southern Continent, ushering in the colonial era.
Unfortunately, in his old age, he had suffered betrayal. In the year 1198 of the Fifth Epoch, he was assassinated by the combined efforts of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Sauron Family-the former royal family of Intis-and other nobles, falling in the White Maple Palace.
This... Recalling these pieces of common knowledge, Zhou Mingrui suddenly felt a slight toothache.
Could he have been a transmigrator senior?
At that thought, Zhou Mingrui wanted to see what the tarot cards here actually looked like. He nodded to the woman in the pointed hat and greasepaint and said:
"If it's not-uh, if the price is reasonable, I'll give it a try."
The woman immediately smiled and said:
"Sir, you're the first person to come for a divination today. It's free."
PS: Second update. Please send recommendation votes~