The stone cottage was far superior to the wooden one in many ways. Wood dampened easily, warped, and gave off a musty, rotten smell. Rats gnawed the boards at night, making irritating scratching noises. In winter, lighting the fireplace required great care, lest the whole house go up in flames, with the occupants becoming roast meat.

The stone house, however, was free of these defects. With a private yard, it would be perfect. And so it was—the new home for master and disciple at 129 Salmon Alley along the river in the Green Leaf District.

Stepping down from the rented carriage and unlocking the gate, a well-tended garden greeted the eye. Encircling the garden was a stone wall over two meters high, enclosing the premises in a private sanctuary. In the middle stood a two-story stone cottage of about 200 square meters.

The outer walls were made of sturdy blue granite bound with lime mortar, all natural stone. The inner walls had decorative pale blue limewash. At two in the afternoon, sunlight streamed onto the front façade. The five paned windows were quality glass that allowed sunlight to flood the interior, promising warmth within.

Most enticing was the second floor—a semicircular balcony wrapped in expensive mirrored glass, blocking wind and rain while allowing sunshine. Sitting there leisurely on a day like this, sipping afternoon tea...the very thought was bliss.

"Oh! There's even a well in the yard!"

It was playful Alice now, hitching up her skirt and trotting to the well. The water within was crystal clear, shimmering like crystals in the sunlight. Just looking at it was refreshing.

A caretaker had tended the stone house, a middle-aged man named Marlowe, a professional butler. He now gave a tour.

"The master spent at least 200 crowns drilling this well," he said with a smile. "And it has repaid him. With at least five springs below, the water remains clear and abundant year-round."

Rosen was pleased. Serendipity was fond of bathing—the well would provide ample water without daily trips to fetch it.

Soon they followed Marlowe inside.

"The cottage has three levels—two above ground, one below. The basement stores items, cool and slightly damp, good for wine and the like. The first floor has a great hearth open to both floors, plus parlor, kitchen, two guest rooms, and a bath. Warming flues built into the walls of each room can be opened or closed as needed.

"The second floor has a sitting room, three bedrooms, a dressing room, and a delightful sunny veranda. Maintained all this time, the furnishings are in fine shape, sparing you considerable expense."

"Of course, bedding, clothes, and such you'll provide yourselves."

"Excellent," said Serendipity. Far superior to her little cabin. A leap in living standards.

With no issues, the exchange was complete. Marlowe returned to his duties at MoonGaze Manor. A thought arose in Rosen—

"Sir Marlowe, you're employed by MoonGaze's domestic affairs department?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. We're all set."

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With a slight bow, Marlowe briskly departed.

Rosen suggested hiring a skilled cook. Serendipity teased, "Tired of cooking for your master?"

"No, no! Just on days I'm away, you needn't go hungry."

"Reasonable. Hire one."

The backyard cottage could house four servants. "We could also hire a gardener, to tend the garden. And with the stable, a carriage and driver."

"Getting extravagant. We'd run short of funds."

Once carefree and pampered, Alice had learned thrift after three years of poverty.

Rosen agreed. "Right. For now, a cook, maid, and gardener."

But he thought, 'Proper living gets expensive.' More paintings meant more income. But art was piecework—no effort, no pay. Like woodcutting.

Too much painting left less time for magic. Not ideal. Shepherding work would be perfect—steady income yet ample time for study. But where to find such a job?

The thought arose just as Serendipity called from the veranda—

"Rosen! Open some apple wine. Let's have an afternoon tipple."

"Coming, Master!"

He fetched a quality bottle and two crystal glasses, poured, and brought them upstairs.

There Serendipity lounged lazily in a wicker chair, eyes half-closed, idly twirling a lock of hair. A contented cat.

Handing her the glass, thoughts flashed through Rosen's mind.

Serendipity was a rare talent, yet helpless in practical matters, a typical noble daughter. Asking her for moneymaking ideas was pointless. She devoted herself fully to Rosen's magical instruction. He would handle worldly concerns.

With that, all worries dissolved. Master and disciple relaxed on the veranda, sipping wine.

After half a glass, rosy flushes bloomed on Serendipity's cheeks. She sighed contentedly.

"Mmm...lovely. My dear pupil, I'm a maiden again!"

Rosen smiled. "Master, to me you'll always be a beautiful maiden."

"Tee hee! Dear pupil, your master will give you a sweet kiss."

Rosen naturally didn't refuse.

After the sweet kiss, he asked, "Shall we name our new home, Master?"

Serendipity thought a moment. "It's so warm and bright, not a grand manor but cozy and charming. How about Sunbeam Cottage?"

"Perfect name," Rosen agreed.

"Master, it's getting late. Rest here while I tidy up."

Downstairs he swiftly cleaned, made beds, unpacked, prepared for daily living. Then he shopped and started dinner, getting life on track as quickly as possible.

That evening Serendipity resumed magical instruction in the upstairs sitting room. She too appreciated the ambience—quiet, tidy, spacious, fresh, and warm. Her improved environment clarified her thoughts, benefiting Rosen.

Time passed unnoticed as master taught and disciple learned.

The next morning Rosen painted as usual at the Hound's House. After finishing a seascape, he didn't rush off.

As Uncle Harry framed the painting, Rosen spoke his thoughts. Harry chuckled.

"Good idea, Rosen, but you're not the first with it. Nobles thought of it already—and acted. Any easy, lucrative business in SilverMoon, like inns, gambling dens, brothels—there's a noble behind it. The frontman's their servant.

"In short, to live decently here, serve the Houses—or lose what you earn. Though most knights just get a title. Becoming a landholding lord depends on fortune."

Harry looked at Rosen. "I understand your thinking, lad. To focus fully on magic, unaffected by worldly concerns—you need to be at least a baron, with five thousand crowns annual income from prosperous lands."

"No other way?"

"None."

"You know so much, Uncle."

The knowledge aligned fairly well with Earth, just different details, as expected given human nature's commonalities.

Harry smiled wryly. "Because I was restless like you, till an arrow pierced my thigh. Anyway, your painting's ready. I must deliver it."

Hefting the painting, Harry left. Rosen sank into thought.

The next month and a half passed uneventfully, life on track.

Rosen's magic stabilized at four stars, nearing five. His mana grew substantially—now ten pellets in one cast.

His spellcraft advanced too, mastering the Three Virtues and Six Techniques.

Together with Serendipity, gravitational magic also progressed hugely. Basic applications, and one formidable spell—Difficulty four stars, Impermanence.

With his intuitive grasp and abundant mana, Rosen's Impermanence packed moderate-lower tier power, exceedingly hard to defend against due to gravity's unique properties—only gravity-type spells could directly counter it.

The AI's assistance also let Rosen quickly master these new spells.

That morning Rosen was painting at the Hound's House when loud thumping sounded from the stairs—

"Rosen! Rosen! Great news! Wonderful news!"

It was Uncle Chambray, gloomy for over a month.