“And Mr. Fan Wen-yan also believes that if any unforeseen situations should arise, it is better for this to happen in the park, and not in the building among the precious exhibits,” Arina laughed. “Well, anyway, it would be impolite to reject his invitation . . .”

Turning off the avenue to the right, we walked into the park, which, in fact, was every bit as interesting as the buildings—it was laid out around a number of pools according to all the rules of art (I don’t know if that hackneyed term “feng shui” is appropriate here, but there was clearly a definite structure to the layout). The ponds were covered with flowers, which I recognized (although I was doubtful at first) as lotuses. The pastoral setting was so idyllic that it seemed unnatural, like some picture that had come to life or the virtual reality of fantasy novels.

About twenty meters from a beautiful pavilion, which really was smothered in orchids and built, naturally, in the traditional Chinese style, the young man stopped. He looked at us and said seriously: “I cannot go any farther. I am sorry.”

I realized why he could not continue to accompany us. Hanging over the pavilion was a Sphere of Inattention—one of the simplest of spells, but absolutely effective as far as humans are concerned. In principle, the small building was still visible to people strolling in the park, but no one kept his eyes fixed on it or tried to go any closer. An unpretentious but efficient means of keeping away prying eyes and ears.

“Thank you,” I said, and Arina and I walked to the pavilion.

Everything had been prepared for our conversation. Waiting for us on an elegant little table were a teapot, cups, candied fruits, and some other kinds of local sweetmeats. Soft red cushions had been thoughtfully arranged on the benches. In addition to the Sphere of Inattention, I detected another five spells to prevent eavesdropping and spying by Others, one more directed against humans—not to distract their attention, but to prevent anyone taking photos or videos—and one with a strange design. At first I suspected that it affected the minds and the vision of people sitting in the pavilion, but having studied it a little I realized it was relatively innocuous. Its entire effect consisted in making the already wonderful view on all sides even more amazing, in addition to awaking in the soul a gentle sadness and sense of peace in the face of nature. I thought for a moment and allowed the spell to affect me. A very elegant and agreeable magic.

“Why, the jokers,” Arina said good-naturedly, looking round the pavilion. She was obviously doing the same as I was—untangling the net of spells. “How many did you spot?”

“Two against people, five against Others, one for our own enjoyment. A very amusing little spell, so Chinese—woven out of air, water and earth . . .”