The first time she read this kind of literature from this era, Elena felt a bit embarrassed. She made sure the door was locked and that no one would suddenly disturb her before she tore open the packaging of the book. Her hands trembled with excitement as she reached for the "Forbidden Book Reference Directory."
Unfortunately, her bedroom didn't have a proper desk to read on. The only place to put the book was a small dressing table, already cluttered with bottles and jars. Elena had already finished her evening routine and changed into her pajamas. She half-lay on the soft bed, wrapped in a feather duvet, and, with the light from the nightstand, opened the first page.
The preface of the book stated that it was created by a fan of certain literature, filled with long analyses, summaries, and reviews, attempting to disguise a lot of content that couldn't pass the censors with an academic tone. It boldly criticized some books that were "wolf in sheep's clothing," like *Madame Bonticlerf's Revelry* and *The Confession of a Ballet Girl*, claiming these books were perfectly legitimate novels and should not be deceived by their suggestive titles.
As Elena read on, she noticed some euphemisms. Perhaps due to the writers' restraint, they replaced some direct terms with more obscure substitutes, and when she saw sentences like "His John Thomas kissed her glory" and "His middle leg was placed on her leg," she was completely puzzled. Only later did she realize that "John Thomas" and "middle leg" were euphemisms for male genitalia, while "glory" referred to the female counterpart.
She thought to herself, poor guy named "John Thomas."
Once she figured out this secret, she started noticing even more of these odd terms. Apart from "John Thomas," there were also "Johnston," "Peter," "Mickey"—she was left in confusion, wondering why they chose such common names for substitution. Was it to increase the sense of immersion? To her amusement, even "rooster" and "needle" were used, which certainly didn't seem like complimentary terms in modern times.
Once she started paying attention to these odd euphemisms, the entire atmosphere was ruined. It was all just too funny.
Elena grew tired of reading these novels. They didn't stir any excitement in her; all she wanted was to go to sleep. Compared to modern literature, these were trivial and lacked appeal.
She decided to change her approach and pulled out the shopkeeper's treasure—*Landiana: Exciting Stories*.
This rare manuscript, limited to only 150 copies and passed hand to hand, lived up to its reputation. Besides the text, it also contained explicit illustrations. In terms of indecent descriptions, it could be considered quite experienced, able to make modern readers open their eyes and view the world in a new light. Compared to this, the novels in *Forbidden Book Reference Directory* seemed laughable.
After browsing through a few books, Elena gained a clearer understanding of the development of this era's literature. This gave her more confidence.
The next day, Elena secretly brought a writing desk to her writing room. To avoid anyone discovering what she was writing, she even brought a draft in case Vera or Grace suddenly appeared. After all, the dressing table in her bedroom was too narrow, and writing in bed made her back ache.
However, when it came time to choose a topic, she faced a dilemma. Thanks to the wide variety of modern literature, she had too many options and couldn't decide where to begin.
In this genre, the protagonists were typically rakish young noblemen or misguided socialites, and authors often told the stories in a semi-autobiographical tone. This reflected society's general aversion to such behavior at the time.
Even though the 21st-century internet was also heavily restricted, it must be admitted that it was still far freer than Lunton. People here revered restraint and purity, believing that the purpose of certain acts was for procreation. Indulging in desire was seen as a descent into sin, and enjoyment was out of the question.
Of course, not everyone adhered to these beliefs, or else there wouldn't be so many customers in the bookstores on Hollywell Street.
Thus, Elena decided to be bold and write about an ordinary middle-class woman as the protagonist. She also considered writing from a male perspective, as the majority of readers were men, and a male perspective would resonate more with them. However, since she wasn't a man, writing in such a drastically different voice proved difficult.
To justify the protagonist's "boldness," Elena adopted a fashionable concept from a certain website: the protagonist's explicit behavior would only exist in her dreams, unaware that the men in her dreams were also experiencing the same dreams.
With this setup, Elena could write freely since it was just a dream. It couldn't be seen as promoting anything immoral in society.
At the start of the story, the married protagonist, while out for a walk, encounters a nobleman, and later dreams of him accidentally taking a forbidden drug and needing a woman to relieve the effects. The protagonist is then captured by the nobleman's servants and delivered to him. Although she protests, insisting that she is a married woman and urging the nobleman to find someone else, she can't escape, and he pursues her. Eventually, she is boldly and forcibly taken, with traces of their struggle found on the bed, desk, and window. The nobleman even utters the classic line, "Madam, you wouldn't want your husband to lose his job, would you?"
Elena hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should use euphemisms like "He licked her glory," but after looking it over, she found it too ridiculous. She opted for more direct terms, hoping the readers wouldn't find it too over the top. After all, what's too much in this genre?
Elena didn't reveal that it was a dream until the very end, maintaining the maximum immersion until the protagonist finally wakes up, preserving the atmosphere. She spent two entire chapters setting the stage, only to reach the "action" just as lunch time approached.
Seeing that time was running out, Elena hurriedly packed up the manuscript and returned the writing desk to her room. As for the shopkeeper's precious books, she had already read them, so they were practically useless. Leaving them in the room was risky, as the maids might find them during cleaning. That would be social suicide. She had to figure out a way to dispose of them.
She initially thought about burning them, but given that the books were rare with only 150 copies, it seemed a shame to destroy them. So, she buried them secretly one night, burying the books in a pit.
Elena didn't always have time to write. After joining the secret society, she had a lot to learn, especially the most important things for her at the moment—the goddess Daidet's divine test magic and the ritual magic for restoring her appearance.
According to Charles, these rituals were difficult to master in one go, so she needed to practice quickly. After all, even phone calls sometimes went unanswered, so contacting a god was like trying to call in a bad reception area—she'd need to try multiple times.
The Daidet goddess's divine test magic was simple. The secret society provided the necessary tools: a silver full-length mirror (which was quite expensive), a pink crystal, a white feather, a bottle of aromatic oil made with olive oil and rose petals, and seven pink candles.
In a quiet, private space, she needed to set up the mirror, lay out soft cloths, light the candles, wave the pink crystal in the air, place it in front of the mirror, dip the feather in the aromatic oil, and sweep it around the space, then sweep it over the mirror, immersing herself in the ambiance of inspiration and beauty. This was the most difficult part, as she couldn't feel beauty when she looked into the mirror. She would recite the incantation.
If her reflection was clear and bright, it meant that the goddess was favoring her; if it was blurry, it meant the goddess barely noticed her. If there was nothing, it meant the goddess was displeased with her. The clearer the image, the greater the favor from the goddess. Supposedly, when the Duke used this magic, it even sparkled.
If the mirror broke or the candles went out, it meant failure, and she'd have to try again in a few days. Such minor failures wouldn't have major consequences, which is why the secret society was willing to share this experience.
Elena had tried this ritual. Perhaps due to the widespread rumors of paper dolls, her reflection in the mirror appeared as a blurred shadow, like an enhanced mosaic. Still, this surprised the people in the secret society because they had tried many times without even a blurry image.
The ritual for restoring her appearance was more complex, requiring specific times and places. It had to be done on a moonless night at a beach, since the goddess Daidet was born in the sea and symbolized Venus. The other tools were similar to those used in the divine test magic, but there were more: a golden mirror, a white candle, a perfume made from jasmine, rose, and honeysuckle, a feather pen dipped in gold powder, a parchment scroll, a pearl, and a golden ribbon.
The items weren't expensive, but there were many of them. Luckily, the club had stocks, so Elena only needed to memorize the incantation and process. If she failed, she'd have to wait a month for the next attempt. This ritual magic couldn't be written down, and only special paper could hold the record, so she couldn't take notes and had to rely on her memory.
Writing in the morning while avoiding prying eyes, having afternoon tea while learning ritual magic in the afternoon—Elena's life was quite organized. But she still wondered—she was good at drawing, should she add illustrations to her writings?