Chapter 153 - 143: She Who Eats Shadows

Fortunately, he was quick on his feet. He’d come up with the "binary structure" interpretation on the spot, and even as he said it, he felt it was a bit of a stretch.

But Richard had somehow made the connection himself.

Truth be told, he did actually know how to perform Divination.

But his skill was barely passable. He could manage, but he was far from proficient, let alone an expert.

The only reason he’d seemed so fluid today was because he was working backward from the answer.

No matter which card he drew, he could find an angle to tie it back to what he already knew.

But Richard didn’t know all this.

In the young man’s eyes, he, the Guide, must seem incredibly mysterious and profound.

The old gentleman could barely suppress a smile at the thought.

.........

At Greenwood, it was tradition for the lunch on the last day before break to serve as a farewell.

Everyone would exchange small gifts they had prepared. After lunch, they would all head home, not to see each other again until after the new year.

They had been sitting at the long table by the window, in a corner of the second-floor dining hall, for months.

Warren brought over an extra chair.

"We’ll have to squeeze in a bit. Let’s get all the gifts out on the table."

Hugh was the first to pull out four small cloth bags tied with Hemp Rope.

Each bag was stuffed full, smelling of a mixture of walnuts and dried apricots.

"Home-baked." He pushed a bag in front of each person.

"Your family baked these?" Warren weighed one in his hand. "It’s pretty heavy."

"My grandmother had me bring them."

Richard opened his bag. Inside were shelled walnuts, dried apricots, raisins, and a few pieces of toasted coconut flakes.

Each piece had been carefully selected; none were broken, and all were perfectly whole.

"Thank you, Hugh."

"You’re welcome."

Mason plopped down into his seat and pulled a few things from the inside of his coat, placing them on the table.

"My mom cut my allowance in half recently."

"So, for the gifts I got... please don’t be disappointed."

He pushed the first gift to Warren.

It was a thick hardcover book.

Warren glanced down at the spine: *The 1909 National Horse Racing Almanac*.

"It’s last year’s version," Mason explained. "This year’s just came out and it’s too expensive. I can’t afford it."

Warren opened the title page. "Why are you giving me a horse racing almanac? I don’t bet."

"You don’t bet, but you can learn."

Mason said seriously, "Your family has money. It’s a waste not to study up on investing."

Warren snorted. ’This kid’s up to no good.’

Mason pushed the second gift to Hugh. It was a bag of candy.

"You like sweets, don’t you? So here’s some candy."

Hugh opened the bag and tossed one into his mouth.

"Ah, mints."

The third gift was pushed to Grey. It was a headscarf.

Grey unfolded the headscarf. "Why did you pick pink?"

"Because it had the biggest discount."

Grey folded the headscarf neatly and put it away without saying anything.

The fourth gift was pushed to Richard. It was a thin booklet.

Richard opened it and glanced inside. "*The 1910 North Horse Racing Club Newcomer’s Handbook*?"

"You’re smart," Mason said earnestly. "Smart people who study horse racing make more money than those who study literature."

Richard closed the booklet. "Thanks."

"You’re not actually going to study it, are you?" Warren asked from the side.

"Of course not."

Mason sighed and took a sip of his tea.

"None of you people understand investing."

"’People who bet on horses are all idiots who end up losing their shirts.’ Your mom told you that, right?"

"My mom doesn’t understand investing."

Just then, Grey also took her gifts out of her shoulder bag.

The first she handed to Warren was a pair of thick, hand-knitted woolen gloves.

"These are perfect." Warren put them on without a second thought.

The second was handed to Mason.

Mason opened the box. Inside was a pocket-sized portable scale.

"What’s this for?"

"To weigh loose tobacco, to weigh tea leaves, to weigh your horse racing bets."

Grey said with a deadpan expression, "Aren’t you getting into investing? Investments require precise measurements."

The third was for Hugh.

Hugh opened the box. Inside, twelve almond shortbread cookies were neatly arranged.

The last one was for Richard.

Grey took out a neatly folded bundle of dark blue fabric.

She held the bundle in her hands, hesitating for a moment before passing it to him.

Richard took it and shook it open. It was a long scarf.

It was dark blue, the stitches weren’t quite even, and in a few places, you could clearly see where it had been knit wrong, unraveled, and re-knit.

But the material was truly high-quality.

Genuine fine wool, soft, and not scratchy against the neck.

"You knitted this yourself?"

"Mhm."

"How long did it take?"

"A month and a half." Grey seemed a little nervous. "I was running out of time, so the stitches at the end are a bit rushed."

"A month and a half?" Warren chimed in. "You’ve been knitting this every day after school recently?"

Grey didn’t answer Warren. She was waiting for Richard’s reaction.

Richard gave the scarf another shake and wrapped it around his neck.

"It’s a perfect fit. Thank you, Grey."

Grey visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Next, it was Warren’s turn.

The first item, for Hugh, was a red jar.

"Strawberry jam. Dug it out of our kitchen," Warren confessed.

"She said it was about to expire anyway, so it was better to give it to you than have my family eat it."

The second, for Mason, was a leather wallet.

Mason flipped open the wallet and took a look.

"Hey, wait a minute." He suddenly started turning the wallet over and over. "How come it’s empty?"

"...You didn’t really think I’d give you the money too, did you?"

"A buddy’s gotta do another buddy a favor, you know?"

"And a buddy’s gotta know his limits."

Mason looked at Warren’s raised fist and didn’t dare say another word.

The third item, for Grey, was a small, pearl-inlaid makeup box.

"This looks rather expensive, doesn’t it?" Grey picked up the box to examine it.

"It’s alright. My cousin recommended it," Warren said. "I really couldn’t think of anything else to get you."