A couple of days later, Yang was again, like most of his time in this world, sitting at his desk working on going through the books provided by the Cardwright Association for Grade Two.

  This time there were a lot more than two books. Enough that there had been no way Yang could carry them to his flat in his arms. He'd had to hire a donkey cart ride so he didn't have to walk home burdened.

  Carriages and buggies were too expensive, and Yang had little care for things like saving face. He was more than happy to save his coins and instead hitched a ride with a donkey cart that would pass near his street.

  Yang had actually enjoyed the ride, sitting in the back next to the crates of whatever goods the cart driver was hauling along. He'd spent the time flipping through one of the books, relaxed in the open air despite the city's ever-present smoke.

  The cart driver had given him odd looks but hadn't commented.

  So now here was Yang, having spent the last few days reading through the Grade Two Cardwright manuals. There were eight thick volumes in total, each focused on different aspects of advanced card creation.

  The theory was even more condensed and complex than the Grade One books. This time there were fewer complete card inscriptions provided. Instead, the books were heavy on the reasons and theories explaining why and how things worked or didn't work.

  One volume focused entirely on energy flow dynamics in multiple inscription cards. It explained how different patterns interfered with or complemented each other, with detailed diagrams showing energy currents and resonance points.

  Another covered advanced materials science. Yang learned about different types of crystal cards beyond the basic ones he'd been using. Some crystals held energy more efficiently. Others allowed for more complex inscriptions. Some were more durable. Each had trade-offs and specific applications.

  A third book discussed the history and evolution of card creation, showing how inscriptions had developed over centuries. Yang found this fascinating, seeing how modern designs had evolved from simpler historical patterns.

  Here, many of the things that had been presented as absolute rules of card creation in the Grade One materials became more like general suggestions. Each rule Yang had thought was set in stone had exceptions mentioned and explored.

  For instance, the Grade One books had stated that inscriptions must always connect back to their starting point to lock properly. The Grade Two materials showed exceptions. Certain advanced techniques allowed for open-ended inscriptions that could be paired with other cards.

  The books also mentioned other types of energies used by Cardwrights beyond the standard energy stones Yang had been working with. Apparently, different energy sources produced different effects. Some created stronger but shorter-lasting cards. Others made weaker but more stable patterns. Some rare energy types enabled effects that were impossible with standard stones, although interestingly enough the other energies used weren't named.

  So far, the previous manuals had described card creation as a mix of science and art. But now the art aspect was a lot more obvious than the science part. There were principles and guidelines, yes, but mastery came from intuition and experimentation as much as theoretical knowledge.

  To advance to Third Grade, Yang learned, he needed to create a completely new card and have it registered with the Cardwright Association. Not just a minor variation on an existing design, but a new card not currently available in the Cardwright Association’s catalog.

  Yang had already made an original card using a mixture of his talisman and card creation knowledge. The shield card with the privacy inscription. But he believed it would be considered lacking due to not being strong enough for certification purposes. A barrier that could stop thrown rocks and weak knife attacks wasn't impressive enough for Third Grade recognition or rather Yang’s own standards were very high. He didn’t want to advance on a technicality but rather achieve the best possible result for himself.

  He would have to work on making it stronger while ensuring the privacy inscription still functioned properly. A delicate balance.

  Reading through the books and understanding the grade progression, Yang got the impression that First and Second Grade Cardwrights existed to fill the regular needs of the market. Most small-scale utility cards, the everyday items people bought for household use and small businesses were made by either of those grades.

  The big factories and businesses used custom-created cards made by Fourth Grade or above Cardwrights. Complex applications requiring specialized designs and high durability.

  Third Grade Cardwrights were just starting their customization journey and weren't yet perfect at the task. They could create novel designs but lacked the refinement and reliability of higher grades.

  Yang had the advantage of having already started experimenting and working on making his own cards. While his privacy inscription and shield card might not be strong enough yet, it was a first step in the right direction.

  Since he'd already taken that first step, improvement was inevitable as long as he kept working on it. Each iteration, each experiment would teach him something new.

  Yang was busy immersed in the book in his hand, making notes in a spare journal about points he found interesting or parts of inscriptions he wanted to try incorporating into his cards, when there was a knock on his door.

  It took him a few minutes to notice, so absorbed was he in his reading and so unused to anyone visiting. Since he'd woken up in poor Lucien's body, only the landlady had come here to collect her biannual rent.

  Yang lurched out of his chair, looked around in momentary confusion, then made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole and saw the blurry visage of a white-haired man in a suit.

  Yang just sighed and opened the door.

  The man was of average height and build, looking to be in his mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper hair. He wore a well-tailored formal black suit, complete with vest and pocket watch. Everything about him spoke of professional service and refined manners.

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  "Mr. Lucien Valemore?" the man asked politely.

  "Yes," Yang confirmed.

  The man gave a small bow. "Sir, I am Andrew Hale, personal attendant to Lord Ardeth. He bid me bring this invitation to you."

  He passed Yang a cream-colored paper envelope with a red wax seal. The envelope itself was beautiful, with Yang's name written in elegant calligraphy: Mr. Lucien Valemore, Grade 2 Cardwright.

  Yang took the envelope. "Thank you."

  "Additionally," Andrew Hale continued, "Lord Ardeth was concerned that you might have difficulty reaching the estate, as it is situated some distance outside the city. He wishes to arrange for a carriage from the estate to collect you on the evening of the gathering."

  Yang felt alarm and displeasure at this suggestion. Having Lord Ardeth's carriage pick him up would make his coming and going dependent on the lord's convenience. Would give Lord Ardeth control over his arrival and departure times.

  "That's very thoughtful," Yang said politely but firmly, "but I have access to transportation and I insist on not troubling the people of the Ardeth estate."

  Andrew Hale looked smart and perceptive, as one would expect from the personal attendant of a lord. He immediately understood that Yang would not be budging on this point and smoothly agreed.

  "Of course, sir. As you prefer. I shall inform Lord Ardeth of your independent travel arrangements." He bowed again. "Thank you for your time. Lord Ardeth looks forward to your attendance."

  Yang was not happy at the reminder that his attendance was expected rather than simply hoped for, but he kept the same polite expression on his face.

  Andrew Hale disappeared down the landing, his footsteps fading. Yang gently closed the flat's door and returned inside.

  He sat at his desk and broke the wax seal on the envelope, extracting the letter within. The same elegant calligraphy, the same cream-colored paper, with a pompous invitation written in flowery script.

  Mr. Lucien Valemore, Grade Two Cardwright

  Dear Mr. Valemore,

  It is with considerable pleasure that I extend to you a formal invitation to attend a gathering at the Ardeth Estate on the evening of the 14th of this month.

  The assembly shall commence at five o'clock in the afternoon and will bring together distinguished Cardwrights of various grades for the purpose of intellectual discourse, the exchange of theoretical insights, and the advancement of our most noble craft.

  Your recent achievement in attaining Grade Two certification, accomplished through remarkable dedication and singular talent, marks you as a most worthy addition to our circle. It would be an honour to welcome you among peers who share your passion for the art of card creation.

  Light refreshments shall be provided throughout the evening, and carriages may be arranged for your convenience should you require such accommodation.

  I trust this invitation finds you in good health and favourable spirits, and I eagerly anticipate the privilege of your company.

  Your attendance is most eagerly expected.

  Lord Arthdal Ardeth

  Heir Apparent of House Ardeth

  Fifth Grade Cardwright

  Yang was really unhappy with the "attendance is expected" phrasing, but he was unwilling to push back. He'd rather receive an invitation than a summons, and refusing outright might result in exactly that.

  Yang was not unaware of the status difference between himself and Lord Ardeth. He had no illusions about where he stood in the social hierarchy. A poor, self-taught Cardwright versus a titled noble with generational wealth and influence.

  He would just have to attend, see what was going on, and determine why this lord was so interested in him.

  Yang set the invitation aside and tried to return to his books, but concentration proved difficult. His mind kept circling back to the gathering and what it might mean.

  The next day, Yang was in the market looking for an affordable tailor who could make him an outfit fit for the gathering in a hurry.

  The event was a week away, and he preferred not to stand out like a sore thumb due to his clothes. He hoped, likely in vain, that if there were enough people present, Lord Ardeth wouldn't be able to give him too much individual attention.

  Yang looked through many shops. Most were too expensive, their window displays showing suits that cost more than Yang's rent for several months. Others were of questionable quality despite their prices.

  He finally found one that looked like it was falling apart. The paint was peeling. The sign was faded. The window display showed suits that were years out of fashion.

  Hoping it would be cheaper, Yang went inside.

  A bell rang as he entered, and an old man turned toward him from where he'd been working at a table in the back. He was very old, with white hair and age-spotted hands. Yang had doubts about whether he was even capable of holding a cutting card straight, let alone cutting fabric properly.

  But the man's eyes were sharp when he looked at Yang.

  "Good afternoon," Yang greeted. "I am in need of a suit for a gathering held by a lord."

  The man looked Yang up and down carefully. "How long do I have?"

  "One week."

  The man shook his head. "That's too soon for a proper tailored suit. Good work takes time. Multiple fittings. Adjustments."

  "I don't need anything perfect," Yang said. "Just something that can make me unnoticeable at the gathering. Presentable enough not to cause offense."

  The man gave him another assessing look, then nodded slowly. "You're of average build. I can adjust an already-made suit to your measurements." He paused. "But I warn you, the choice of fabric and design would be rather slim. These are sample suits I've created to show customers. They're finished pieces, just not fitted to anyone specific."

  "That's acceptable," Yang said.

  The man moved to a rack and brought out several suits. "These are my latest samples."

  Yang examined them and settled on the simplest one. Plain dark gray wool, well-constructed but not flashy. With a white shirt and simple black vest. Nothing that would draw attention.

  "This one," Yang said.

  "Try it on. Let me see how much adjustment is needed."

  Yang changed into the suit. It was too large in the shoulders, too long in the sleeves and trouser legs, and loose around the waist. But the quality was decent, and the color suited him.

  The old tailor circled him like a predator, pulling at fabric, making marks with chalk, muttering measurements to himself. For almost half an hour, he measured and pinned and noted adjustments.

  "Come back in two days," the tailor finally said. "It will be ready."

  "How much?" Yang asked, bracing himself.

  The price the tailor quoted made Yang's chest hurt, but he knew other tailors would have charged almost four times as much. It was only relatively affordable because it was a sample suit from a shop that clearly wasn't well-patronized, given its dilapidated condition.

  Yang paid a deposit and thanked the man.

  "Two days," the tailor reminded him as Yang left. "Afternoon."

  Yang made his way back out into the street, now in search of shoes and a barber.

  His current shoes were worn and shabby. Fine for walking to the market or the Cardwright Association, but not suitable for a noble's gathering.

  Yang found a cobbler who could sell him simple black leather shoes for a reasonable price and then a barber's shop where he paid to have his hair cut properly. The blonde strands fell away, leaving a neater, more respectable appearance. Lucien's handsome features became more apparent with the improved grooming.

  Yang looked at himself in the barber's mirror and barely recognized the person looking back. Clean. Groomed. Almost respectable-looking despite the shabby clothes he currently wore.

  He paid the barber and stepped back out into the smoky streets of Markham.

  Yang looked up at the gray sky, the perpetual haze of industrial smoke, and thought to himself: He really hated this world.

  In White Cloud Sect, things had been simpler. Work hard, cultivate, improve. Respect was earned through skill and dedication, not birth and wealth.

  Here, everything was tangled in webs of social hierarchy and expectation. And Yang, with his poor background and lack of connections, was at a severe disadvantage.

  Yang made his way home through the gray streets, already dreading the upcoming social performance he'd have to put on at Lord Ardeth's estate.