I can copy tags infinitely.

Caesar stopped the carriage some distance from the London Library and stepped out of the carriage.

"Your Highness," the attendant hurried to Caesar's side and said, "you're not feeling well, would you like me to help you over?"

"Ahem," Caesar coughed, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. "No need. My friends don't know who I am. If they saw a servant helping me, they'd probably be scared."

Since Caesar himself had said so, the servants could only obey orders, watching Caesar's figure disappear into the crowd and enter the London Library.

As soon as he entered the London Library, Caesar saw Munro standing in front of the reception desk.

At this moment, Monroe was holding a rather thick book with the title "Cosmic Isomorphism, Gnosticization, and Late Classical Interpretation in Hermetic Texts" on the cover.

It was the book that Li En had previously studied up to Chapter 5 of.

"Hello, Phoenix," Caesar greeted Monroe with a smile, "Has Wells not arrived yet?"

Hearing the voice, Monroe looked up at Caesar and said, "Wells said he has some things to do tonight and won't be coming."

"Is that so?" Caesar was slightly disappointed. He had investigated Li En's background: the son of a fallen baron, a genius of occultism among the freshmen at the University of Michigan, and a student of Eli Enso and Cole Osborn.

Having these identities is indeed extraordinary, at least enough to pique the interest of "Your Highness" Caesar.

However, his interest only went so far. For him, the most important thing was the message in the book "Cuiyu Lu Shuzheng".

Just as Caesar was about to turn around to look for the book, he heard Munro calling from behind.

"Caesar, what are your thoughts on rising...?"

Caesar paused for a moment, "What do you mean by 'rising'?"

After a moment's hesitation, Monroe shook his head. He didn't want to drag Caesar, an irrelevant person on the rational side, into the mystical side, as that would obviously harm him.

"No, just pretend I didn't say anything."

Caesar was somewhat confused, but he respected Monroe's wishes and didn't ask any further questions.

After traversing the vast library, Caesar quickly arrived at the bookshelf labeled WEA.

In the usual spot, Caesar found the familiar "Commentary on the Jade Record" and took it down.

"I hope my confusion can be resolved," Caesar sincerely expressed his hope.

Caesar put eye drops into his eyes, lowered his head, and opened the book in his hand.

In an instant, a large number of characters composed of faint spiritual energy appeared vividly before his eyes.

"Based on your description, the disease you have is not tuberculosis, but more likely lung cancer. This is a medical issue."

Upon seeing the words "lung cancer," Caesar's pupils trembled slightly, and his whole body felt as if it had fallen into an ice cave.

At this time, British medical technology was very limited; all they could do was recognize that "cancer can grow in the lungs."

As for treatment, or even relief, there is absolutely no possibility.

Because the doctors at Bartholomew's Hospital don't even know what causes lung cancer!

The words "lung cancer" essentially sentenced Caesar to a death sentence for the little life he had left!

"Am I really destined to die...?"

Caesar murmured softly, a hint of despair appearing in his eyes.

He continued to look down at the text below.

"This should be a medical question, but if you want to explore the power of the occult, I can give you some advice."

"There is an ancient Chinese ritual called 'sending a substitute,' which involves weaving a straw or paper effigy, writing your name, birth date and time, and your requests on it, and then transferring your misfortunes onto the straw effigy before burning it. This is believed to take away your illnesses and bad luck. If you are interested, you can try it."

To address the British people's questions, Li En even explained what birth charts were, and since there wasn't enough space on the title page, he wrote it on the second page using his spiritual power.

"Send a substitute..."

Caesar murmured to himself, though he had never heard of such a mystical ritual before, this might be his only chance to try it.

In order to survive and to do what I need to do, I must try every possibility!

After recording the details of the ceremony, Caesar put the book back on the shelf.

"Cough cough cough..."

Enduring the pain that felt like coughing his lungs out of his throat, Caesar even forgot to say goodbye to Monroe before rushing out of the library.

Of course, Monroe didn't notice him either, because the former's attention was already absorbed in the book.

"Your Highness," a servant rushed forward to support the sickly-looking Caesar as he hurried to the carriage, "have you forgotten something?"

Cesare answered while coughing violently, "Cough cough, back to Carlton Palace cough cough... I have urgent business, cough cough..."

The attendant carefully helped Caesar into the carriage, then got into the driver's seat and signaled the driver to set off as soon as possible.

The carriage traveled along the streets of the Thames through the thick, sticky fog and arrived in the St. James district of West London.

It's very close to Westminster, which is in the heart of London; it's only a 10-20 minute walk away.

Carlton Palace is a typical residence for royal heirs or regents. Although the residents are of high status, it does not give people the feeling of a huge royal castle. Instead, it is more like a magnificent but well-proportioned aristocratic mansion.

The carriage stopped at the gate of the mansion, and the attendants got off and opened the door for Caesar.

The male servants at the main gate of the mansion quickly stepped forward and helped Caesar out of the carriage.

"Welcome back, Your Highness," the elegant male servant said respectfully.

Caesar nodded in acknowledgment and asked, "Where is my teacher? Is he still alive?"

"He's still here, Your Highness," the servant quickly replied definitively. "He should be in the studio now, painting a portrait of Her Highness the Princess."

"Take me there."

The servant gave an affirmative answer and led Caesar into the art studio at Carlton Palace.

The two doors of the studio are decorated with striking reliefs: a lion and a dragon are tearing at each other, their postures and eyes filled with the desire to kill each other.

Only by opening the gate can the two ferocious creatures be temporarily separated.

Behind the door, in the large studio, Ruby was sitting by the window. The morning sun peeked in through the window, casting its light on Ruby.

She removed the hard-shell mask, revealing her face hidden beneath.

Anyone who sees Ruby Frederick's exquisite face will inevitably gasp in amazement.

"This is simply a national treasure-level work of art."

A man in a white robe was sitting not far from her, with a canvas laid out on an easel. The figure on the canvas was very similar to Ruby, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not replicate her near-perfect face.

He placed his paintbrush on his lap, his face full of worry, unaware that paint had stained his clothes.

"teacher."

Caesar walked up to him and softly called out his name.

The man raised his head. His name was Lucas Morrison, a private tutor assigned to Caesar by the church.

"Your Highness, you're back," Morrison said with a gentle smile. "Is there something you needed?"

Ruby frowned slightly at Caesar's interruption. "If your lung condition has worsened, going to the church won't help. You should go to the hospital, Mr. Patient."

Caesar wasn't annoyed by Ruby's words. Instead, he replied, "Don't worry about me. On the contrary, you're wasting your life painting at Carlton Palace on a beautiful Sunday, don't you think? You liar."

"No need," Ruby suddenly smiled, "I have my own plans tonight. I'm going to the King's Theatre with a guy I like. What about you, Mr. Sick? Are you having a romantic chat with a nurse at the hospital?"

Caesar gave a strange look. "You have a male companion you like? That's quite unbelievable."

"I can't connect with someone like you who has no friends," Ruby said, turning her head away.

Caesar chuckled. "Sorry, I've recently made two interesting friends at the London Library. You don't need to worry about them."

Ruby gave her the same strange look. "So, you two are both patients, aren't you, since you're able to hang out with someone like me?"

Morrison quickly interrupted their conversation. If these two continued bickering, it would probably be dark by the time they finished. "Your Highness, please tell me what you need me for."

"I need your help, teacher," Caesar said gravely. "I've learned of a mystical ritual that might help alleviate my condition."

Ruby wasn't interested in any of that, so she turned and left to pick out a dress for her "date" that evening.

Morrison chuckled upon hearing this. "Your Highness, please don't joke around. Mysticism is merely theoretical knowledge; it cannot be replicated through experimentation. You can even consider it a skill you'll never need in the future..."

"No, I feel differently," Caesar interrupted Morrison, briefly recounting the details of sending the Stand. "I think this method is worth trying."

After he finished speaking, Caesar was waiting for Morrison to continue to persuade him.

But then, something strange happened.

After hearing the whole story, Morrison stared wide-eyed at Caesar with disbelief mixed with fear.

"Your Highness, from whom did you hear about this ceremony?"

Caesar sensed something was amiss, but instead of explaining the matter of the "Commentary on the Jade Record," he vaguely explained, "I heard it from a roadside... fortune teller. Anyway, let me try it and see if it works."

Morrison's expression darkened.

"Your Highness, this is a road of no return. You'd better... be fully prepared mentally."

"I have never heard of this so-called 'sending a substitute' ritual, nor do I know if it can be successful, or even what its effects are."

"However, it clearly satisfies the basic ritual requirements of mysticism."

"The mysteries of the occult are not something you can touch at will, nor can you simply stay away from them if you don't want to."

Caesar frowned, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the saliva secreted in his mouth.

Clutching his aching chest, Caesar gave an affirmative answer.

"I'll do anything to survive, as long as this method really works."