Chapter 75 – The Golden Birds Descend

Fortunately, Mo Lan was a Sorceress.

Mana was higher in quality than magical power—more efficient and longer-lasting—and her total reserves were far greater than those of other young witches in her year.

She also had more opportunities to practice magic, which gave her more options.

Any other young witch simply couldn’t have sustained such a long practice session.

With limited magical power, even practicing magic required prioritization.

Once Mo Lan understood all this, she also understood why most witches only practiced the Spring Water spell when they needed to, and were satisfied once they could produce enough water for daily use.

Spending their magical power on practicing other, more important spells was the better choice for them.

《Babbling Brook》 had been enormously helpful for Mo Lan’s in-depth study of the Spring Water spell.

She now knew how to train this spell at each stage.

All that remained was step-by-step practice.

Once she finished this book, there was the next one.

《What Exactly Is Magic》, 《History of Witches》, 《Fire, Light, and Water》… they were all lined up waiting for her!

Before she knew it, it was deep into the night.

Half the weekend had vanished in a flash, and Mo Lan felt a deep sense of urgency.

To give herself a fresh start for next week and begin reading new books, she strictly controlled her sleep schedule, sleeping only five hours—right at the minimum healthy sleep threshold for young witches aged thirteen to eighteen.

She even made an alarm card specifically to plan her time more precisely.

Unfortunately, even so, she still couldn’t finish the last book on her reading list—《Fire, Light, and Water》—before Sunday noon, let alone attempt learning new spells.

Last weekend, she had invited Senior Lilith, Vasida, and Sylph over for dinner, only to botch it. Thankfully, her senior had saved the day.

Today, she absolutely had to redeem herself.

Mo Lan grabbed her basket and prepared to head to the Ingredient Collection Station for fresh ingredients.

She hadn’t even stepped out the Dormitory door before she noticed seniors hovering everywhere in the sky above the dormitory area.

Were the seniors doing another broomstick group activity?

But why were they all just hovering in place?

“Senior Lilith! What are you all doing?” Mo Lan asked curiously.

“Waiting for golden bird letters!” Lilith replied. “Oh right! You first-years probably don’t know yet, do you? On the Sunday of every even-numbered week at twelve-thirty in the afternoon, the Academy opens the golden bird letter channel. All letters fly into the Academy at that time and are delivered straight to our hands.”

“What are golden bird letters?” Mo Lan asked, puzzled.

“You remember your enrollment notice, right? That was the highest-grade golden bird letter—top-tier in both confidentiality and security, and it even incorporated the Elder Sorceress’s magic.” Lilith said.

Mo Lan recalled the promise she’d made with her mother about staying in touch before enrolling, and hurriedly asked, “Then how do we send letters back?”

Lilith sighed. “Once you learn how to make golden bird stationery, you’ll be able to write back. But that’s only taught in second-year basic Alchemy class—I haven’t even learned it yet!”

Being able to receive letters but unable to reply—that was truly agonizing.

Mo Lan didn’t even need to ask to know this was yet another one of the Academy’s schemes to motivate young witches to study magic.

At the very least, she now desperately wished she could fast-forward to the Alchemy class a year from now and learn how to make that golden bird stationery.

“The golden birds are here!”

Someone shouted, and Mo Lan instinctively looked up at the sky.

Over a hundred streaks of golden light shot across like meteors. Most descended toward the dormitory area, while a few flew off in other directions.

One came flying straight toward her.

As it drew closer, she could see clearly—it was a golden paper bird. A size smaller than the one from her enrollment notice, its golden glow somewhat dimmer.

It was obviously far less concealed than the enrollment notice had been. She could clearly see the other golden birds too, even the ones that weren’t meant for her.

Like the one tap-tap-tapping at Vasida’s dormitory window, or the one that slipped through the half-open door into Sylph’s room.

The one meant for Mo Lan landed directly in her palm.

The little paper bird tilted its head to one side, and the golden glow faded, leaving behind an ordinary sheet of paper.

“My darling child, is Academy life full of surprises?

By the time the golden bird letter arrives, it should be Sunday of the second week!

Are you pulling your hair out over an empty water tower again right about now? Have you finished your theory class essay?

Hahaha, don’t worry—every young witch goes through this.

The hardships you endure during school will taste sweet when you look back on them someday.

Chin up—at least you have a foundation in cooking, so you don’t have to suffer through awful Breadfruit…”

Mo Lan held back a laugh and murmured under her breath, “Mama Shana definitely never imagined I’d be a Sorceress, and that I’d learn the Spring Water spell by the second week, and even finish my essay assignment before the weekend! I really want to see the look on her face.”

“…Mama didn’t lie to you—at the Academy, you can eat as many Dodo Bird eggs as you want.

Make sure you eat plenty before third year. After third year, they won’t be available anymore.

I’m currently on my way to Moon Harbor. I’ve heard that handsome merfolk men often sneak ashore there, so I plan to stay for a while.

That’s all for now. Once I’ve settled in at Moon Harbor, I’ll write to you again.

I know you can’t make golden bird stationery yet, so don’t worry about writing back.

—Your loving Mom, Shana”

Mo Lan: “…”

What race her paternal bloodline belonged to—even Mama Shana herself, the person directly involved, couldn’t figure it out. That was probably because Mama Shana went through boyfriends too quickly.

In her own words: ugly souls are all the same, but beautiful faces are one in a million.

It was probably an occupational hazard of being a Mind Witch.

The letter had apparently been written mid-journey. The handwriting was messy and the content brief, yet Mo Lan could feel Mama Shana’s eagerness to reach Moon Harbor.

“Moira! You got a letter too?” Sylph came running out of her dormitory. She had been about to ask where the letter had come from when she spotted Mo Lan reading hers.

“Mm-hm! On the Sunday of every even-numbered week at twelve-thirty in the afternoon, the Academy lets golden bird letters into the Academy grounds.” Mo Lan relayed the information she’d learned from Senior Lilith, including the matter of how to reply.

“That’s so unfair! They don’t teach golden bird stationery until second year? Does that mean I can’t write back to Mom and Dad for a whole year?”

The first-year young witches erupted in a chorus of complaints.

But complaining was useless.

Either you finished reading all the books in the First-Year Reading Room on your own, applied for a Second-Year Reading Room pass, and went there to find books to study ahead—

Or you simply waited until second year for the Headmistress to teach you.

Asking upperclassmen for stationery was out of the question too—the Headmistress forbade seniors from “helping.”

Not the least bit surprising!

Mo Lan silently folded the letter and tucked it into her satchel. Once she learned to make golden bird stationery, she would reply to everything at once. And when that time came, she would absolutely make Mama Shana’s jaw drop.

But for now—she still had ingredients to collect from the Ingredient Collection Station.