Before Furen had even finished sighing, he stopped himself, rubbed himself vigorously against the softness of the sofa, and then declared in a satisfied tone:
"That's real life! Studying and all that is heresy."
After waiting quietly for a moment, Furen managed to get through his moment of "serenity of the sage", then straightened up with renewed energy, as if he had forgotten everything, and exclaimed:
"I love studying. I can't imagine what people would do if they could no longer learn."
In any case, for the moment, studying remained the most important thing. In his past life, not studying meant, at worst, being reprimanded or beaten, or even nothing at all. But here, if he didn't work, his ancestors would personally come down to show him the consequences of laziness.
He never would have believed that Bethel Abraham, who seemed cold and crazy, would actually be an even stricter relative than his own parents from his former life—a true mother wolf and father tiger. Terrified, Furen crossed himself inwardly.
He then took another esoteric book from his library. On the cover, one could read "Study of Low-Level Seals." Driven by deep curiosity, Furen opened the book.
Without saying a word, he brandished it theatrically, as if he were going to throw it away, but, seeing its cover worn by time, he held back, embarrassed, judging himself to be ridiculous, then gently put the book down.
This work had been compiled by an ancestor of the Abraham family. But right from the introduction, one could read:
"If you are a 'Sequence 9 Apprentice,' do not turn this page, or the consequences will be serious."
Intrigued, Furen nevertheless turned to the next page, where this sentence appeared:
"I knew you little rabbits wouldn't listen to me. The mediocre spirituality of an 'Apprentice' cannot withstand the making of a seal. Weaklings, abstain."
These provocative words piqued Furen's curiosity, and he continued reading. The following pages read:
"Are you still going around in circles? You want to get hit, huh?"
"Heh heh, you won't see anything else!"
So this completely mad old ancestor had actually enjoyed writing a manual like this, openly insulting the "Apprentices"! Furen was speechless. A man can endure many things, but not being told he's incapable unless it's true.
However, by continuing patiently, he discovered that, behind this mocking attitude, the author had a real talent: the content of the manual was excellent.
And indeed, an "Apprentice" really couldn't create any seals at all. Even after fully digesting the corresponding potion, he could only produce one seal per day, with very limited effectiveness, and had to be wary of the whispers that could be heard when spirituality was running out.
After all, the "Apprentice" potion primarily strengthened the mind and body, while also granting the ability to "open doors." One couldn't ask for much more.
Time passed, and Furen noticed that it was already past eleven o'clock. He therefore decided to stop and go to sleep.
The next day, following a disciplined routine, he got up early. Reciting that "time is precious", he forced himself to get up and go to the National Library in Trier to spend the day studying.
After preparing everything, Furen, feeling a bit bored, decided to explore cooking. After all, he couldn't always eat in restaurants, even if he had enough money: it didn't fit with his habits.
Unfortunately, he turned the kitchen upside down without finding a single scrap of food. However, he did find half a tin of tea and a barely used jar of coffee beans. Although he didn't really know how to make coffee, he did manage to find a porcelain pestle and a small bowl.
Furen then began to crush the beans in the bowl, then poured the resulting powder into a cup and brewed it. After almost half an hour of clumsy effort, he finally managed to obtain something resembling coffee, at the cost of his nerves.
But when the boiling water soaked into the powder and released a rich and enticing aroma, Furen rediscovered the same pleasure he had experienced when he was learning to cook.
He placed the solitary cup on the table, gazing at it from the left; something was missing on the right. He thought about going out to buy bread, but worried the coffee would get cold. Reading a book held no appeal, so he suddenly had the idea of fetching the day's newspaper from the mailbox so he could enjoy his drink while reading.
When he returned with the newspaper, the room was filled with the aroma of coffee. Furen, who had never drunk much of it, was nevertheless able to recognize that it was excellent quality coffee.
Settling into a wooden chair, one hand holding the still-warm Trier Daily, the other his cup of coffee, Furen felt like the protagonist of a British series, a true Sherlock Holmes of modern times.
Alas, he would never be that kind of English hero: he had barely taken a sip before spitting it all out. It wasn't because of the heat, but because of the unbearable bitterness, which the heat only intensified.
Fortunately, the newspaper wasn't soaked; otherwise, he would have had to try to decipher blurry letters on damp paper. After wiping away the traces of his failure, Furen looked at his barely touched cup and made a face more bitter than the coffee itself.
"To pour? Or not?"
he muttered to himself. Finally, he decided to drink it. He mustn't waste food, especially not food he had prepared himself.
So he slowly drank his overly strong brew, while reading the newspaper to the last page. When he finished, he stretched for a long time and realized that he had already spent more than an hour reading.
Before getting back to his work, he told himself he had to accept this rhythm as his own. No more absurd and aimless schedules; he had to learn to alternate work and rest.
In truth, gentlemen in Trier, and indeed throughout the world, lived this way, often even lazier than he did. Compared to the frenzy of the future, this world remained lazily tranquil.
"I am no longer an exploited employee!"
he acknowledged, smiling broadly, proud of this realization. Then he decided to go to the library to read anyway. After all, life was precious, and that was the constant reminder from the great ancestor Bethel to all Abrahams.
Furen left his house, strolled around Trier for a while, and only arrived at the library an hour or two later, after stopping at a bakery to sample some local specialties. He decided to skip lunch.
The days passed in this way, punctuated by reading. Fortunately, all remained calm: Furen was finally able to enjoy his first real period of peace since his crossing.
(End of chapter)