For the first time in her life, Lynn was spending a Hong Kong–style Christmas.
There was no turkey that even a Kneazle would turn its nose up at, no overly sweet Christmas pudding wrapped in glittering foil, and definitely none of those strange bean sprout–and–chestnut combinations.
Instead, the table was full of things like poached shrimp, clay-pot rice with cured meats, steamed star garoupa, pineapple buns, iced milk tea, and—most importantly—the Hong Kong–style braised pork Lynn had been craving for ages.
After dinner, Lynn happily followed Professor Zhang up to the attic for tea and conversation. But Autumn, who sat nearby hugging her pet ink-black puffskein, didn't look nearly as cheerful.
"What's wrong?"
A gentle hand brushed through Autumn's hair and rested on her shoulder.
"It's nothing, Mom."
Autumn shook her head and glanced at the beautiful woman standing beside her.
"You're mad at your father, aren't you? He kept too close an eye on that boy you like, and now you're upset?"
"Mom…" Autumn whined softly, her cheeks turning a little pink. "It's not like that. Lynn's a good friend, sure, but if you're talking about that kind of liking…"
She paused to think.
"I mean, I did like him before. He's handsome, and he's always been really kind to me. But I don't think it's the kind of liking you mean."
"Oh? Then what kind is it?"
Her mother pulled her into the cozy wicker chair on the small balcony. Snow fell thickly outside, but neither the cold wind nor the drifting flakes could reach her. The warmth of the fireplace filled the little balcony just as well as the living room.
"I don't really know how to explain it. Lynn once told me that I'm still too young to understand what it really means to like someone. And I don't really understand love yet. I didn't get it at the time… but after thinking about the story you told me—how you and Dad fell in love—I feel like I understand a little better."
"If I like him only because he's good-looking, that feeling won't last. You and Dad share things you love, you have passions you both care about, and that's what brought you together. Right?"
"But Lynn… I don't really understand him. When he gets interested in something, he rushes right into it. It's fun, but I can't keep up with him. Being his friend is great—he always considers my feelings—but it's also a little strange. It's like…"
Before Autumn could finish her sentence, a soft peep sounded from her arms.
A tiny golden puff of feathers wriggled out from her collar. Compared to three months ago, the little Golden Snitch-sprite's plumage had grown in nicely, and its ruby-red eyes sparkled with excitement as it spotted Autumn.
"Orangepuff! You finally woke up."
The tiny magical creature was only half the size of her fist. When it curled up with its eyes shut, it really did look like a little golden tangerine.
"I feel like Lynn treats me the same way I treat Orangepuff. We're close, but we still can't fully read each other."
"I can take good care of it." Autumn stroked the soft, fluffy ball tenderly. "But it can't take care of me the way I take care of it."
She spoke quietly, her voice full of a mix of happiness and worry—typical for a girl her age.
"You don't need to overthink it, Autumn."
Professor Zhang's voice came from behind her. He was sipping hot tea and walked over to her side.
"Dad! You were listening to me and Mom!"
"I wasn't eavesdropping. I just happened to be walking by on my way to grab snacks."
"When I chased after your mother back in the day, I didn't think too much about anything. She was the prettiest girl I knew. Just seeing her made me happy, so I acted on it."
"Sometimes we don't need to overanalyze everything. If something brings you joy—real joy—then go for it."
"But Lynn…" He sighed. "That boy will probably always chase after novelty. He has the talent and confidence to do it. He's not someone who settles easily. Once something stops feeling new, he looks for the next interesting thing."
"Honestly, I've thought about it. When he left Oxford, I don't think it was really because the new security guard kicked him out. He was just bored. He'd already learned everything he wanted there. Even if no one forced him to leave, he would've gone on his own."
"I don't mind you being friends with him. He's a good kid. But for a girl… he's the type you date, not the type you marry. A natural flirt. His feelings never stay fixed on one thing."
"When someone is born with too much, they don't learn how to cherish things. Everything feels too easy."
"So don't fall too deep, sweetheart. Dad doesn't want to see you cry."
Compared to the wild, immature boys running around the world, Lynn—this upgraded version of a golden-haired troublemaker—was at least more presentable. And Professor Zhang knew that a girl in her teens would always have a rebellious streak. Better to explain things openly than try to block her path and watch her sneak around anyway.
Wizards live longer than Muggles. The joys of youth are remembered for decades… and so are heartbreaks.
When Professor Zhang returned to the attic study with snacks, he sat across from Lynn. The handsome young wizard was fully engrossed in an old, headache-inducing text. But to him, the complicated ancient runes were like hidden treasures, each one filling his curiosity with new discoveries.
"What a shame…"
Professor Zhang watched him for a while, then sighed softly.
"Professor? What's wrong?"
Lynn closed the book and looked up.
"What a handsome young man… shame he's such a flirt."
"Heh…" Lynn didn't seem offended at all—Professor Zhang knew quite a bit about him by now. "I'll always like tall, curvy, beautiful girls, so don't worry. Autumn and I will always just be friends."
"Fine, fine. I won't meddle in you young people's business. Just mind yourselves."
Professor Zhang waved him off. "Take that book home and read it slowly. But now look at this—these are real ancient runes. Maybe you'll even surprise me."
"You flatter me, Professor. I just have a good memory. I'm still far from mastering real magic."
Still, Lynn eagerly accepted the book and flipped a few pages… only to wince and rub his temples.
"What kind of cursed thing is this? Does this even count as writing?"
It was the first time he'd seen symbols his brain refused to absorb. Staring at them too long made his head spin, like he'd downed half a bottle of Firewhisky.
"Feel the magical mystery in them? These runes aren't even enchanted."
"No way!"
"That's the wonder of ancient runes. When you can finally decipher them… you may glimpse the truest form of the world itself."