Ren Xiyang wrote down all the information in the novel and all the information he could remember from Alyssa Rosewood’s memories.
There were many little things that he didn’t care about—the villainess Alyssa had many disputes with the heroine, but Ren Xiyang had no intention of wasting his time provoking a little kid.
However, he did care about the plague-curse that appeared later in the novel.
After seeing his entire world turned upside down because of the zombie apocalypse, Ren Xiyang preferred it not happen again. He wasn’t the only survivor in the apocalypse who had wondered what they would have done in advance if they had known, be it stocking up goods, or strategies to prevent the apocalypse from occurring altogether.
Of course, just because the novel said it would happen, didn’t mean it would definitely happen. The ‘novel information’ could be fake news. Or, the small and large changes due to his actions could affect subsequent events and inadvertently prevent the zombie-plague from coming into existence.
But he won’t be complacent. If the plague did break out, it would be too late to regret. He had to prepare now. Even if that plague didn’t happen, there would very likely eventually be some other plague instead.
Not only that: with the family dead, Ren Xiyang was now the lord of the Rosewood fief. If he followed the novel’s direction, the Cordovan and Schauss families would take over the fief and embezzle its money. Letting that happen would also be irresponsible. He’d have to manage the fief properly.
There were so many important things to do, it was hard to figure out what should be done first.
His brows creased into a frown, cursing the Transmigration forces. If they wanted an administrator, why didn’t they pull an administrator over? Well, Ren Xiyang was going to do it his way, and the forces can just cry in the corner if they don’t like it.
Ren Xiyang was startled out of his writing when someone knocked on his door. Glancing out the window, he realised that late afternoon had arrived. He hopped off the chair and strode over to the door, unlocking it.
The maid Kel was there, holding a large stack of clothing. “Young Master Rosewood, your new clothes have been purchased. The Rosewood crest will be embroidered over the coming days.”
Ren Xiyang nodded. “Thanks.”
Kel froze for a moment at the word. She quickly lowered her head. “It is my duty. Allow me to put these clothes away.”
Ren Xiyang silently stepped aside.
Kel walked in and went to the walk-in-wardrobe in the bedroom where she arranged each piece of clothing. Once done, she turned to the Young Master.
“Your dinner is being prepared. Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“Black hair dye.”
Kel froze again. “Pardon, Young Master wants to acquire some black hair dye?”
“Yes.”
Kel had never heard of black hair dye…she’d have to ask the other maids. “I will do my best to find it, Young Master Rosewood.”
“Mm. Take your time.” Ren Xiyang pulled another gold coin and gave it to Kel.
Kel left the suite and hurried down to the kitchens. Among her fellow servants, she finally showed a face of anxiousness.
“What’s the matter, Kel?” the old matronly chef, Mrs. Cooks, asked.
“The Young Master wants black hair dye! But how can anyone use dye to dye hair?” Kel couldn’t understand it.
The maid named Maria couldn’t help but smirk. “Kel. Hair dye is for hair, and clothes dye is for clothes.”
“Ah?”
“Some certain people use it when their hair is greying and they don’t want anyone to know,” Maria said. She frowned. “But nobles like to use charms, not common dyes.”
An older manservant called Aaron also frowned. “Did he ask for red hair dye?”
The other servants all looked at Aaron, understanding the implication. If Ayden ‘Rosewood’ used red hair dye then…
“No, he wanted black hair dye,” Kel said.
Suspicion turned into confusion.
“The hairdressers in town should have some black hair dye,” Maria told Kel. “As for hair-colour changing charms, you’d need to go to a bigger town or city.”
Kel frowned in thought. “I see. Then if I’m not back in time—”
“Someone will deliver food to the young master.”
Kel didn’t waste any more time. After explaining what Young Master Rosewood wanted for dinner, she gathered some necessary things and left.
Being a good servant was not following their master’s orders to the letter, it was about understanding the underlying request. If hair-colour changing charms was better than black hair dye, then that was what Kel needed to present to Young Master Rosewood.
At dinner time, a maid delivered food to Young Master Rosewood.
The cooks didn’t fully understand why the young master wanted plain boiled vegetables, but they had done their best to artfully arrange it on the plates along with the roasted meat and potatoes. This effort was wasted on Ren Xiyang, who had seen much more fancy plating in modern times and was too preoccupied with his work to notice.
The only things Ren Xiyang really noticed about the meal was that: (1) it would have tasted better with chilli; and (2) there were potatoes. Potatoes originated from the Andes, but as far as Alyssa Rosewood’s memories went, there was no ‘Americas’ equivalent in this fantasy novel world.
Then again, the existence of potatoes in the kingdom wasn’t surprising. The clothing and beauty standards in this novel world also weren’t historical, and there was magic, which definitely wasn’t historical.
And in the absence of modern technology, Ren Xiyang was relying on the existence of magic to carry out some of his slowly forming plans.
But this reminded him that he sorely lacked knowledge about the new world around him. The lens of the novel and the lens of the young Alyssa Rosewood’s eyes were too narrow in scope.
After he finished eating, the maid took the dishes away. He followed the maid out, locking the door, before quickly walking over to the main study room.
At this time, the room was empty. All the Investigator-heat-sources were in one of the dining rooms, having their dinner.
Ren Xiyang picked some books on various topics from the shelves. He also went into the secret room to pick out books. With a stack of books reaching up to his nose, he headed back to his rooms.
The first book he opened was a text on magic.
From the very beginning of his transmigration, he had noticed that the atmosphere here was different from the zombie apocalypse. Here, the air was rich with magical energy. It wasn’t like the tainted crystal nuclei inside zombies’ brains that he and other ability users needed to power their skills. He was stronger in this world and the source magic was much more plentiful.
While the novel had given him some information about the magical system in this vaguely medieval-European world, the textbook gave him a lot more.
In this world, the mages were separated by pseudo-element: ‘normal’, fire, water, ice, earth, plant, metal, wind, poison, psychic, lightning, light, and shadow. A ‘normal’ mage could cast spells, typically verbally, with hand signals, or via drawn talismans. Meanwhile, a fire mage could do anything a ‘normal’ mage could do, and also had a big boost in ability to cast any spells classed as ‘fire’, from obvious fire-creating, heating, and warming spells, to burning-sensation-but-not-true-burning curses and anger-enhancing spells. A fire mage also had the potential to directly manipulate fire, but not many were able to do so. Direct magical manipulation, without formal spells, was extremely difficult. Only the very, very elite mages could truly do so, with only a handful known throughout history. The majority of ‘direct magical manipulation’ was just silent nonverbal spell-casting that was also only possible by very adept mages.
Ren Xiyang: “…”
It turned out that he was a magic learning scum who didn’t know any spells and also a magic learning tyrant who could directly manipulate fire. That explained the Investigators’ and servants’ and guards’ shock at seeing him fly via fire propulsion yesterday.
This particular magic book focused on general spells. Ren Xiyang skimmed through it, feeling his mental task list growing.
And aside from that magic book, Ren Xiyang had also carried back books on more general magic spells, fire-class spells, healing spells, history, aristocratic customs and etiquette, aristocratic families in the kingdom, politics, economics and trade, geography, and the history and holdings of the Rosewood family, all things that he needed to know going forward.
He still needed to write out his plans and memories and he needed to minimally skim through all these books to see whether they’d actually be useful, not to mention reading what needed to be read in depth.
It was going to be a long night.
Elsewhere in the manor, the Eldest Prince Rian Azure was seated at his desk, writing out any and all important information about the occurrences in his past life, and how he could possibly avert future disaster.
He had more complete information than Ren Xiyang, with both his own personal lived experience, what he then personally saw after his death, along with the words of the novel.
He had been thinking about it on the long ride to the Rosewood summer manor, and now, he wrote very quickly. Thankfully, there was no Count Aegean around—
Knock knock!
“Your Highness, Count Aegean has arrived,” a voice called out through the door.
Rian: “…” Think of the man and he’d appear?
Ren Xiyang wrote down all the information in the novel and all the information he could remember from Alyssa Rosewood’s memories.
There were many little things that he didn’t care about—the villainess Alyssa had many disputes with the heroine, but Ren Xiyang had no intention of wasting his time provoking a little kid.
However, he did care about the plague-curse that appeared later in the novel.
After seeing his entire world turned upside down because of the zombie apocalypse, Ren Xiyang preferred it not happen again. He wasn’t the only survivor in the apocalypse who had wondered what they would have done in advance if they had known, be it stocking up goods, or strategies to prevent the apocalypse from occurring altogether.
Of course, just because the novel said it would happen, didn’t mean it would definitely happen. The ‘novel information’ could be fake news. Or, the small and large changes due to his actions could affect subsequent events and inadvertently prevent the zombie-plague from coming into existence.
But he won’t be complacent. If the plague did break out, it would be too late to regret. He had to prepare now. Even if that plague didn’t happen, there would very likely eventually be some other plague instead.
Not only that: with the family dead, Ren Xiyang was now the lord of the Rosewood fief. If he followed the novel’s direction, the Cordovan and Schauss families would take over the fief and embezzle its money. Letting that happen would also be irresponsible. He’d have to manage the fief properly.
There were so many important things to do, it was hard to figure out what should be done first.
His brows creased into a frown, cursing the Transmigration forces. If they wanted an administrator, why didn’t they pull an administrator over? Well, Ren Xiyang was going to do it his way, and the forces can just cry in the corner if they don’t like it.
Ren Xiyang was startled out of his writing when someone knocked on his door. Glancing out the window, he realised that late afternoon had arrived. He hopped off the chair and strode over to the door, unlocking it.
The maid Kel was there, holding a large stack of clothing. “Young Master Rosewood, your new clothes have been purchased. The Rosewood crest will be embroidered over the coming days.”
Ren Xiyang nodded. “Thanks.”
Kel froze for a moment at the word. She quickly lowered her head. “It is my duty. Allow me to put these clothes away.”
Ren Xiyang silently stepped aside.
Kel walked in and went to the walk-in-wardrobe in the bedroom where she arranged each piece of clothing. Once done, she turned to the Young Master.
“Your dinner is being prepared. Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“Black hair dye.”
Kel froze again. “Pardon, Young Master wants to acquire some black hair dye?”
“Yes.”
Kel had never heard of black hair dye…she’d have to ask the other maids. “I will do my best to find it, Young Master Rosewood.”
“Mm. Take your time.” Ren Xiyang pulled another gold coin and gave it to Kel.
Kel left the suite and hurried down to the kitchens. Among her fellow servants, she finally showed a face of anxiousness.
“What’s the matter, Kel?” the old matronly chef, Mrs. Cooks, asked.
“The Young Master wants black hair dye! But how can anyone use dye to dye hair?” Kel couldn’t understand it.
The maid named Maria couldn’t help but smirk. “Kel. Hair dye is for hair, and clothes dye is for clothes.”
“Ah?”
“Some certain people use it when their hair is greying and they don’t want anyone to know,” Maria said. She frowned. “But nobles like to use charms, not common dyes.”
An older manservant called Aaron also frowned. “Did he ask for red hair dye?”
The other servants all looked at Aaron, understanding the implication. If Ayden ‘Rosewood’ used red hair dye then…
“No, he wanted black hair dye,” Kel said.
Suspicion turned into confusion.
“The hairdressers in town should have some black hair dye,” Maria told Kel. “As for hair-colour changing charms, you’d need to go to a bigger town or city.”
Kel frowned in thought. “I see. Then if I’m not back in time—”
“Someone will deliver food to the young master.”
Kel didn’t waste any more time. After explaining what Young Master Rosewood wanted for dinner, she gathered some necessary things and left.
Being a good servant was not following their master’s orders to the letter, it was about understanding the underlying request. If hair-colour changing charms was better than black hair dye, then that was what Kel needed to present to Young Master Rosewood.
At dinner time, a maid delivered food to Young Master Rosewood.
The cooks didn’t fully understand why the young master wanted plain boiled vegetables, but they had done their best to artfully arrange it on the plates along with the roasted meat and potatoes. This effort was wasted on Ren Xiyang, who had seen much more fancy plating in modern times and was too preoccupied with his work to notice.
The only things Ren Xiyang really noticed about the meal was that: (1) it would have tasted better with chilli; and (2) there were potatoes. Potatoes originated from the Andes, but as far as Alyssa Rosewood’s memories went, there was no ‘Americas’ equivalent in this fantasy novel world.
Then again, the existence of potatoes in the kingdom wasn’t surprising. The clothing and beauty standards in this novel world also weren’t historical, and there was magic, which definitely wasn’t historical.
And in the absence of modern technology, Ren Xiyang was relying on the existence of magic to carry out some of his slowly forming plans.
But this reminded him that he sorely lacked knowledge about the new world around him. The lens of the novel and the lens of the young Alyssa Rosewood’s eyes were too narrow in scope.
After he finished eating, the maid took the dishes away. He followed the maid out, locking the door, before quickly walking over to the main study room.
At this time, the room was empty. All the Investigator-heat-sources were in one of the dining rooms, having their dinner.
Ren Xiyang picked some books on various topics from the shelves. He also went into the secret room to pick out books. With a stack of books reaching up to his nose, he headed back to his rooms.
The first book he opened was a text on magic.
From the very beginning of his transmigration, he had noticed that the atmosphere here was different from the zombie apocalypse. Here, the air was rich with magical energy. It wasn’t like the tainted crystal nuclei inside zombies’ brains that he and other ability users needed to power their skills. He was stronger in this world and the source magic was much more plentiful.
While the novel had given him some information about the magical system in this vaguely medieval-European world, the textbook gave him a lot more.
In this world, the mages were separated by pseudo-element: ‘normal’, fire, water, ice, earth, plant, metal, wind, poison, psychic, lightning, light, and shadow. A ‘normal’ mage could cast spells, typically verbally, with hand signals, or via drawn talismans. Meanwhile, a fire mage could do anything a ‘normal’ mage could do, and also had a big boost in ability to cast any spells classed as ‘fire’, from obvious fire-creating, heating, and warming spells, to burning-sensation-but-not-true-burning curses and anger-enhancing spells. A fire mage also had the potential to directly manipulate fire, but not many were able to do so. Direct magical manipulation, without formal spells, was extremely difficult. Only the very, very elite mages could truly do so, with only a handful known throughout history. The majority of ‘direct magical manipulation’ was just silent nonverbal spell-casting that was also only possible by very adept mages.
Ren Xiyang: “…”
It turned out that he was a magic learning scum who didn’t know any spells and also a magic learning tyrant who could directly manipulate fire. That explained the Investigators’ and servants’ and guards’ shock at seeing him fly via fire propulsion yesterday.
This particular magic book focused on general spells. Ren Xiyang skimmed through it, feeling his mental task list growing.
And aside from that magic book, Ren Xiyang had also carried back books on more general magic spells, fire-class spells, healing spells, history, aristocratic customs and etiquette, aristocratic families in the kingdom, politics, economics and trade, geography, and the history and holdings of the Rosewood family, all things that he needed to know going forward.
He still needed to write out his plans and memories and he needed to minimally skim through all these books to see whether they’d actually be useful, not to mention reading what needed to be read in depth.
It was going to be a long night.
Elsewhere in the manor, the Eldest Prince Rian Azure was seated at his desk, writing out any and all important information about the occurrences in his past life, and how he could possibly avert future disaster.
He had more complete information than Ren Xiyang, with both his own personal lived experience, what he then personally saw after his death, along with the words of the novel.
He had been thinking about it on the long ride to the Rosewood summer manor, and now, he wrote very quickly. Thankfully, there was no Count Aegean around—
Knock knock!
“Your Highness, Count Aegean has arrived,” a voice called out through the door.
Rian: “…” Think of the man and he’d appear?
