"But I'm going to see you every Monday..."
The elf girl said hurriedly, but Shade shook his head:
"No need, you don't have to come see us on Mondays in the future."
He was really worried that the immature girl in front of him would encounter an accident:
"Just remember to look for the secret room I asked you to find for me in St. Byrons. We can meet again in the spring when things here are over. Winter is coming to an end, and spring is not far away. If we haven't left yet, we can go around the city together."
He took out a notebook and found a poem he had written in advance:
"These are enough for you to learn for a while. In the spring, I can teach you more ancient elven runes. After all, although phonetic symbols can help you learn to read, you still need to hear the correct pronunciation with your own ears in order to learn more accurately."
The elf girl clutched the notebook and looked at Shade with her green eyes. She also knew that Shade was worried about her:
"I see. Then you and that lady should be careful too."
Then he began to search through his pockets, and finally found some amulets he made himself, and some unicorn hair in a glass tube:
"I'll leave these for you. Please be safe. We'll see you in the spring. Please be careful."
She stood up and prepared to leave, and Shade also stood up. The unicorn rubbed the back of Shade's hand reluctantly.
Shade was by the campfire, watching the elf girl climb onto the unicorn's back in a somewhat clumsy manner. She sat sideways, grasping the fur on the back of the little animal, and said again:
"Then we'll meet again in the spring. May the World Tree bless you and may everything be safe."
Shade smiled and nodded. After patting the little animal's head, the unicorn carried the elf girl into the dark forest.
“See you in the spring!”
In the end, you still didn't ask how she got here from the college.
she said softly.
Shade looked down at the small bottle of unicorn hair in his hand, thinking about what kind of jewelry he could make to give to Leicia and Dorothy:
"If she wanted to say it, she would have said it just now. But it's just as well. I haven't had time to explore St. Byrons recently."
He turned to face the campfire, and the movement of lowering his head caused a shadow to cling to his face.
But you don't plan to use that passage to...
"There will be a way. Besides, my guess may not be correct."
Shad whispered to the campfire.
He put out the fire with a wave of his hand and untied the reins tied to the tree. Xia De stroked the horse's head and then climbed onto the horse neatly:
"Calling Snowball."
Snowballs fell from the sky and hit the extinguished campfire. Shade pulled the reins, and the bay horse carried him into the woods in the dark night.
"The story of Randall Valley has come to the second half. Demons, crazy land, ancient families, ancient secrets... I have to focus on dealing with these things. When spring comes, I will have time to enjoy life... May the earth be with you and me."
(The unicorn is running...)
Considering that they would not be able to return to Tobesk all day Thursday because they had to visit the Temple of Night again, Shad, who was sitting at the dining table with a newspaper in his hand, said to Dorothy in the kitchen:
"I'm taking Mia to Randall Valley today, so you don't have to take it with you. I remember that you're going to attend a writers' reading salon today, right?"
"It's not a problem to take Mia with you, but if you want to take it for a walk in the suburbs, that's fine."
The blonde in the apron said, transferring the scrambled eggs from the pot to a plate and bringing it to the table:
"But it should be very cold outside the city, so be careful not to let it catch a cold."
"I know this cat probably won't want to leave my clothes for a day."
Shard put down his newspaper, stood up and untied Dorothy's apron from behind:
"You don't have to worry about me. My operations in the Randall Valley are safe."
"I'm still waiting to hear big news from the Randall Valley someday."
The blonde girl said with a smile, then took the newspaper and pointed to the news on the top right page of the fifth page of gossip:
“Is this you?”
This morning's Tobesk Morning Post published a small section about gossip from the distant Randall Valley, where Miss Vanessa Benanis was photographed secretly dating a strange man.
Shad had seen the news this morning, but it was amazing how Dorothy could find it by picking up the newspaper.
"I heard the news yesterday when I was delivering documents to my father at the Steambird Daily newspaper office."
She looked at the photo, which only showed Xia De's profile, and there was a subtle difference between that face and Xia De's:
"Miss Vanessa Benanis, I remember she was at least ten years older than me. When she became famous, I was still a little girl at home. I used to wonder if I could become someone like her."
She put down the newspaper:
"Your methods are really powerful."
Xia De lowered his head to feed the cat to hide his embarrassment, and the blonde writer shook her head:
"I don't mind what you do. This is Luvia's problem. Oh, by the way, my father said that the honorary degree he arranged for you has made some progress.
Around the spring, St. York College will award a number of honorary degrees. You know, most of these are given to local celebrities to establish social relations with the college. My father is very concerned about your affairs. He wanted to write to you, but I said that I just happened to come to you to get information, so he asked me to tell you about this. After all, everyone will be worried if this kind of thing is put on paper. "
“How much sponsorship fee do you need?”
Shade asked curiously, and Dorothy shook her head slightly:
"It doesn't matter. Lecia has already given me the check. I will ask my mother to give it to my father when I go home this afternoon. Don't worry, it's an anonymous check, and Lecia's name will not appear on it."
"But how can this kind of money make..."
"So, you want Carina to get it for you?"
Although he was smiling when he asked Xia De, Xia De inexplicably felt a little eerie. His intuition gave him the answer, and Xia De immediately shook his head:
"Okay then. Oh, I've got the unicorn hair, what accessories do you want?"
As he spoke, he picked up a small piece of egg with his fork, and this time the smile on the blonde's face was not at all sinister:
"You got it! Give it to me now, and I'll make it into a piece of jewelry! I bet if it were in your hands, you might make something weird like a 'unicorn hair wrapped ring' or something like that."
"Dorothy, do you think too highly of me?"
The writer smiled but didn't give an answer. Instead, she handed her fork to Shade, who leaned over and ate the egg:
"I'll give it to you after breakfast. By the way, what degree did Professor Louisa get me in the end? Literature? Linguistics? Or political science? When we discussed it last time, he mentioned that it was most likely one of these three."
Not all subjects can be awarded honorary degrees. In the subject classification of foreigners, subjects that tend to be liberal arts are the majority of subjects that award honorary degrees.
"Neither. This year, there are very few honorary doctoral degrees in literature at St. York's College of Letters, and they were all given to members who won the Kingdom Literature Award this year. The honorary doctorate in linguistics will not be awarded this year because of... the infighting within the Delarion Degree Committee. As for political science."
Dorothy shook her head slightly.
"There is an unwritten rule that honorary doctorates in political science at Tobesk's top local college can only be awarded to retired politicians, such as your neighbor, Mr. Smith, the former Secretary of the Kingdom's Treasury. If it is a year with a large surplus, it may be possible, but this year St. York's College of Arts and Sciences only got two places."
The total number of honorary degrees that can be awarded by De La Rioun's colleges of higher learning each year is determined by the Kingdom's Degree Committee, and then the colleges compete for the places.
"So, what Professor Louisa reserved for me is..."
"History."
Xia De breathed a sigh of relief:
"Fortunately it's not folklore."
"What are you talking about? Have you ever heard of an honorary doctorate in folklore being awarded?"
The blonde asked amusedly, peeling an egg in her hand while little Mia lay on the table watching the smoke coming out of the food in her hands.
"But my father asked me to tell you that even an honorary degree cannot be given with money. There is still more than a month before the spring degree awarding season, and he asked you to find a way on your own. It would be best if you could publish a few relevant articles. It doesn't have to be too professional, as long as it shows that you have done research."
This is not a problem. The Guiding Light Hermitage to which Old John belongs has many members from higher education institutions. For example, Mr. Madison, who initially contacted Shad, is an administrative staff member who works as a secretary in the University Union (Chapter 375).
"You don't have to worry about that. I've already discussed it with Professor Manning."
Dorothy continued:
"Professor Manning knows that we are ring sorcerers, so I told him that you recently received some artifacts and materials sent by friends in the Randall Valley. Find some time to find some things from the Randall Valley and send them to the professor, and he will be able to help you write a good paper. He will be the corresponding author, and with the name of Tiris Manning, all relevant professional journals in the kingdom will not reject your submission."
"So, you and Leicia have arranged everything for me?"
This made Xia De a little embarrassed, but the blonde writer enjoyed this feeling:
"You see, Luvia isn't the only one who can help you."
She reached out and touched Mia, who was lying between her and Shade. Mia squirmed uncomfortably and continued to stare at the steaming breakfast on the table. It wasn't that the cat didn't have breakfast. Its hot goat milk and other food had been eaten by it while Shade was waiting for the writer to cook.