Shiller was sitting at a small eatery whose owner came from Fujian and mainly sold noodles, including Fujian shrimp noodles, satay noodles, and so on. However, Shiller didn't like noodles, so he ordered a bowl of wontons while Raven ordered a bowl of Fujianese noodles.
Shiller heard the owners of the snack cart behind him talking in a dialect from some part of Fujian that he didn't recognize. They spoke English, albeit with an accent, but their communication with the customers was fluent, indicating that they had been here quite some time.
"I see an envelope on your table," Raven said after sipping her noodle soup, "with some strange patterns on it. Have you encountered something weird?"
"Those aren't strange patterns," Shiller replied somewhat helplessly. "Those are... Chinese characters that aren't very well written."
When he said the last word, Shiller felt a bit guilty because no matter how one looked at it, those could hardly be called Chinese characters.
"Chinese characters? Do you have a friend from China?"
Shiller shook his head, but after a slight pause, he nodded again and said, "I do have Chinese friends, but not him; he's from the Soviet Union."
Raven took a sharp inhalation and said, "The Soviet Union? I read in the newspapers that it's a terrifying place."
Shiller shook his head but didn't speak. Raven slurped some noodles and then sighed, saying, "I think I really need to go to school. Compared to others, it seems like I don't know anything."
"You can choose not to compare yourself to others, but if you want to go to school, I can have Alfred give a call to Dick and their school."
"Would that get me admitted?"
"Yes."
"It turns out the outside world is so advanced that it makes it easy for everyone to go to school," Raven remarked. "In Azarath, if you want to go to school, you have to visit the teacher, who will check your talent, and you also need to bring him plenty of food."
"It's the same here," Shiller explained. "Going to school isn't easy; it's just that some people have privileges."
Raven seemed to understand something. She fiddled with the noodles in her bowl and said, "It seems those boys have privileges. They look very different from others."
"How are they different?"
"I can't exactly say, but they seem to have more freedom than others, to do many things simply because they want to."
"Do you envy them?"
"A bit," Raven admitted as she vigorously slurped her noodles and added, "But I don't actually have anything in particular I want to do."
"Now you do; don't you want to go to school?"
"You don't seem particularly worried that I'll lose control," Raven furrowed her brow, put down her noodle bowl, and said, "Or is it that you don't actually know how serious the consequences would be if I did."
"I know, but I don't think you'll lose control. Don't you feel that the power inside you isn't as violent anymore?"
Raven turned her head away to think deeply and then realized it was indeed the case. Shiller scooped up wontons with his spoon and said, "If your power is related to your emotions, if it erupts due to losing control of your emotions, then it will definitely calm down as your emotions ease. Your mood is good right now, isn't it?"
"I suppose, but why wasn't it like this before?"
"Because you've always been demanded upon, but never taught. The one leading you only told you what the situation was like at the moment but never came up with any effective solutions. They just kept repeating facts that would only add pressure to you, like 'you will lose control, you will lose control, you will lose control.'"
"He said as long as I control my emotions..."
"But that's not a solution. He told you that the way to prevent losing control was to manage your emotions well. It's like telling a person trapped in a difficult situation that they need to work hard, but what direction should they work towards? Did he teach you how to control your emotions?"
"He only told me not to have any emotions."
"You know that's impossible. The truth doesn't change just because fools repeat the contrary a million times. You can't resist your nature; it's human instinct. It's like telling someone stuck in a traffic jam 'if you could fly, all your problems would be solved.'"
"What do you think I should do then?"
"Today, there must have been a moment when you completely forgot about the whole matter of controlling emotions, right?"
"Yes, when I get busy, I don't think about anything."
"Then just let it be like that. Your emotions will find their own way out, and everything will happen naturally."
Raven seemed to have let go of some burden, exhaling a long breath. The remaining steam from her soup mingled with her breath, forming a little cloud of white smoke near her lips.
She pursed her lips, looked at Shiller, and said, "Thanks, Professor. It looks like, apart from the rent, I owe you a consultation fee."
"There's no charge this time; consider it a trial for my future psychological counseling."
As Shiller set down his bowl, he saw a figure flash by behind the snack cart, but he assumed it was just a delivery person and didn't give it any thought.
After eating, the two of them walked toward the second-hand market. His housewarming feast was actually just another form of a neighborhood party, so it needed some extra lighting for embellishment and to create a lively atmosphere for the party.
But those neon signs made of exaggerated fonts spelling out letters were a bit too avant-garde for Shiller's taste. He frowned and walked past those stalls, though Raven seemed quite interested.
"Don't even think about putting that thing in my house," Shiller shook his head and said, "Pure light pollution, and several words are misspelled to boot."
"We all think that Waylon's company should have a more eye-catching sign. Perhaps this would be a good choice." Raven pulled out her phone to take pictures, then kept her head down and tapped away at her keyboard, seemingly having a lively chat with someone.
Shiller spotted various styles of candle holders at one of the stalls, some in British style, and others weird yet adorable, perfectly suitable for his consulting room.
Shiller's determined goal was to make his consulting room look like the collection room of a quirky wizard. For this, he was even willing to frame and hang the horribly ugly Chinese characters written by Anatoli on the wall, just to solidify his identity as an ancient Eastern wizard.
He liked an octopus candle holder with eight tentacles curling in different directions, lifting the base of the candle holder, and the octopus had a pair of eyes that did not seem too smart—slightly terrifying, but overall still cute.
Then he took a liking to a black cat doll, a Maori-style wooden carving, a sunflower clock, and a curiously shaped rooster vase.
Shiller figured he could stack these items and then wrap a string of light bulbs around them. He knew this would create a ridiculously comical effect, but that was exactly what he was aiming for.
He hoped every guest could come up with 20 topics for this postmodern art piece and then chat about it until the end of the party.
Of course, that was impossible, so Shiller wouldn't tell them that he had scavenged these items from a recent second-hand market. Instead, he'd make up long and bizarre backstories for each item to fill the party with enough conversation topics.
For example, he would tell everyone that the octopus actually came from a mysterious Ghost Ship called the Dakotazo. Then he could share his own adventurous experiences aboard the Dakotazo, of course, from the perspective of a victim, otherwise it would be a bit too adult for children.
Although the last thing he did before leaving the Ghost Ship was scraping off someone else's candle holder, which was rather odd, but Gotham didn't lack weirdos, and Shiller wasn't afraid of being the weirdest of them all, after all, he had even been the Joker.
Shiller knew someone would inevitably compare the black cat doll to Bat Cat's physique, and Bat Cat would surely feel dissatisfied, leading them to chat for another ten minutes about all the ill-tempered cats they had encountered.
This is the daily life of ordinary people—topics are at once scarce and plentiful, both narrow and broad, revolving around every little detail of their lives, they could talk for hours.
But Shiller exactly lacked these details. His days spent teaching consisted of moving between only two points, with a routine so regular that there were no surprises, and in his everyday life, he rarely encountered the unexpected.
The surprises he did encounter couldn't be discussed with ordinary people because most of the people who brought those surprises to him ended up surprised themselves.
Therefore, Shiller had to find enough trivial topics to fill up a party that lasted for hours to ensure everyone had something to talk about.
Blending into the atmosphere was already hard enough; creating an atmosphere, especially a truly cheerful one, was precisely why Shiller needed to do so much preparation. It was difficult for ordinary people as well.
Now he somewhat understood why Batman always made so many plans in advance because any unexpected event could make Shiller anxious.
What if they didn't notice the things he had set up? What if they remained silent about these oddities? What if they kept their focus on him the entire time? What if the topics weren't enough to fill the entire party?
Addressing these issues, or rather soothing Shiller's own anxieties, meant preparing contingency plans. But one could never prepare enough contingency plans, because even those could go awry, prompting the need for contingency plans for the contingency plans. If this continued, who could distinguish him from Batman?
Shiller always felt that since Bruce started acting like the Joker, he had begun to act like Batman, perhaps due to too much interaction with the Prime Universe's Batman.
Raven was surprised to see Shiller carrying a pile of peculiar items and helped him carry the bags telekinetically, commenting, "I thought you were just buying some decorative lights, but it looks like you're preparing a séance for all the guests."
"Keep up that humor, miss. It will serve you well in school," Shiller chose not to answer directly.
The two of them returned to the house together, with Raven standing by the door watching Shiller busily combining all those strange objects in an even stranger manner.
Then she astonishingly found that these decorations actually suited the house, or rather suited Shiller himself. Surrounded by the decorations, he didn't look out of place at all, even if the decor seemed capable of summoning a Sanguine Demon, and Shiller was dressed in a suit and shoes. Their personalities just somehow weirdly blended together.
Then came the most difficult part of the party preparation—deciding on the menu. Shiller needed to write a letter to each person, confirm their allergens, and then eliminate those items from the menu.
And since it was a potluck party, he also had to compile a list of allergens to send to everyone, so they wouldn't bring food that others might be allergic to.
This had to be the biggest loophole in the history of human evolution, Shiller thought while writing letters, who in the world is allergic to sesame greens?
He must have voiced this thought aloud, and Raven, rummaging through the fridge, said, "I was just wondering who in the world is allergic to broccoli?"
"That's entirely different."
"No, it's actually the same. You can't complain about others having allergens when you have them yourself, that's not fair."
"You really should read more books."
"Would reading books give you a different answer?"
"Reading books would teach you manners, miss."