Chapter 110 To be, or not to be, that is the question.
Too composed?
Alice had been in contact with William for quite a few days now.
She certainly felt the same way. But, was 'composed' really an adequate word for William?
Be it in his actions or words, none of it was reminiscent of a young person.
Which ordinary young man would possess the inexplicable aura of authority that William did?
And how would a regular young man behave around a girl he likes compared to William?
"I think it's good for a man to be composed. It's charismatic," Alice remarked without much thought.
Evelyn didn't comment on this.
Alice felt she might have been rushing things. Changing the subject, she asked, "So, Evelyn, what do you usually like to do?"
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Evelyn replied, "Nothing in particular. Watching movies, reading, listening to music. Does that count?"
A homebody?
This thought made Alice raise an eyebrow.
If Evelyn was into swimming or fitness, it would be easier to ask her out. Even if she loved shopping, it wouldn't be a problem.
But a homebody? That's more challenging!
"What kind of movies do you like?"
Evelyn remained silent, just looking at Alice.
Clearing her throat, Alice said, "I'm thinking of going to the movies tomorrow night. Are you free?"
"I have to mind the store tomorrow night," Evelyn replied. "What movie is it? We could watch it on the phone."
"We have a staff dinner tomorrow, so the store won't be open," Alice, fully aware of the real reason behind opening the store – for William to have something to do and to give Evelyn a job, clarified.
The movie wasn't the crucial thing. What mattered was helping her mentor woo Evelyn!
The bookstore wasn't particularly profitable anyway. William wouldn't mind closing it for a night.
As the two women continued their chat outside, William sat upstairs. He had spread out a blank canvas on the table, but his thoughts were on the conversation downstairs. He noted every word Alice and Evelyn shared.
Mature? Not like a young man?
Was this Evelyn's impression of him?
Did he need to change?
"Prepare the paints for me!" William, sitting upright, glanced at the paint box beneath the table.
Nelson, with sharp hearing, had also caught the conversation downstairs. However, he chose to pretend he hadn't and began prepping the painting tools.
Saying William is mature?
For someone at William's level, he had naturally lived for countless years.
Merlin, the founder of the Arcane Society, hailed from the 5th century AD. From the time William knew Merlin, Merlin even called him 'Master'. Thus, William must be over two thousand years old. How could he not be mature?
"Do you want some special symbols or a painting?" William asked indifferently.
Nelson looked up, smiling, "Master, as you wish."
William glanced at him, "I'll give you some special symbols then. I'm not in the mood to paint today."
"Thank you, Master." Nelson, having prepared most of the tools, stood respectfully in front of William, carefully observing his next move.
William casually picked up a brush, dipped it in the freshly prepared black paint, and began to paint.
His brushstrokes flowed as freely as an eagle soaring in the sky. The brush left smooth and natural lines on the paper. As he gently withdrew the tip of the brush, the paper revealed a line of beautifully rendered calligraphy.
"To be, or not to be, that is the question."
The moment William began writing, Nelson's eyes were glued to the paper on the table. In an instant, he felt surrounded by towering mountains, an expansive universe, and twinkling stars.
It seemed as though the words enveloped Nelson, transporting him to another realm. In this space, the words floated in the air, transforming into golden butterflies circling around him, as if welcoming him into this enigmatic world.
Within this world, Nelson felt his body becoming translucent. Beneath his feet was a vortex, continuously spinning, leading him deeper into a more mysterious place. At the bottom of this whirlpool was a colossal book. Its pages turned incessantly, each one narrating various tales from the world.
Nelson reached out, trying to touch the words, but his fingers passed through, only to feel cold droplets. Looking up, he realized he stood beneath a massive waterfall, the waters composed of endless words, flowing past him with bubbles and melodies.
Magic, myths, legends – everything in this world seemed to have sprung from literary works. Every detail brimmed with mystery and wonder. And Nelson knew that this was the magic under William's pen, all created to showcase the power of literature to him.
The line was from Shakespeare's "Hamlet." Nelson was not unfamiliar with it. Yet when written by William, the emotions and philosophy behind it deepened, with each character seeming to form a bridge between the earthly realm and the world of art.
"Take it and read it later!"
William's voice suddenly rang out, and it felt as though Nelson was snapped out of a deep dream, uncertain of how much time he had spent in that other realm.
After a stunned pause of about five seconds, Nelson hastily stepped back three paces and gave William a deep bow, bending ninety degrees, "Thank you, Master!"
"That's enough, leave now!" William sat there. At that moment, he wasn't ready to leave; he hadn't yet figured out how to speak with Evelyn.
Did Evelyn mean that he was too old-fashioned, too composed? Didn't she like that?
If that's really the case, what should he do?
Thinking about it, his mindset wasn't quite right. After being asleep for 50 years, he still hadn't fully adapted to his current identity.
His mindset indeed isn't youthful anymore!
Regardless of the past, Evelyn is now just a girl in her twenties.
Another thought—does he genuinely have feelings for Evelyn?
All of this somewhat troubled William.
But if there wasn't anything to perplex him at this time, life would be a bit too dull.
After Nelson went downstairs, William sat alone upstairs for quite some time, until Alice came up with two cups of Waterfall Iced Americano.
"Master, shouldn't you play your part as a cousin?" Alice set the two cups of Waterfall Iced Americano in front of William and said with a grin, "If Evelyn sees me getting you coffee and then serving it to you, she might think you're some spoiled young master of our family."
"Let her think what she wants," William replied nonchalantly, about to take a sip of the Waterfall Iced Americano when Alice swiftly removed the lid for him.
William nodded slightly, taking a sip and furrowing his brow, "It's cold?"
"Oh! When is Waterfall Iced Americano ever hot?" Alice hurriedly opened the other cup and handed it to him, "That one has sugar, this one is plain. Which one do you prefer?"
William took another sip of the plain one and said, "This plain one is quite good."
"Alright, enjoy. I'll go down and keep Evelyn company." Alice took the sugared coffee and went downstairs.
At that moment, two students looking to buy books walked into the shop. Evelyn was attending to them, leaving Alice holding her coffee, looking somewhat lost.
What should she do with this cup of coffee in her hands?
Alice glanced down at the coffee, feeling increasingly torn.
Simply discarding it seemed wasteful.
It wasn't about the money; the baristas at the coffee shop had put effort into making this drink.
William had only taken a small sip. Wouldn't it be wasteful to just throw it away?
Besides, William was her mentor. Would she really be bothered by the fact that her mentor took a sip?
Caught in her thoughts, Alice hesitated until Evelyn was done. She then cautiously asked, "Evelyn, would you like this coffee?"
"Didn't you get one for me too? I haven't even started on mine," Evelyn responded with a hint of confusion. "Why? Didn't you like that flavor?"
"No, it's not that!" Alice, as if caught off guard by the question, quickly took another sip of the coffee.
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