Chapter 28: High Tower Fantasies and Lingering Doubts

What was the work like inside the High Tower?

Once, while surrounded by countless items “rumored” to be beneficial for magic, Xu Yanqing had often fantasized about it.

Would it be like the ancient texts (later proven to be mere fantasy novels) described, filled with potent elixirs, intricate spell formations, and bizarre, wondrous materials?

Or would it resemble the displays she had seen while touring Thousand Spire City, where ancient traditions intertwined with modern rigor, and people in lab coats battled demons that unexpectedly leaped from summoning circles?

For Xu Yanqing, a “High Tower Apprentice,” such daydreams were a rare source of joy.

Despite her arduous efforts, the outcome had been a complete lack of talent for a mage.

Yet, she had unexpectedly been promoted to a member of the Magical Girl High Tower.

Only then did Xu Yanqing discover the truth.

Everything was far removed from her vivid imagination.

“Xiao Qing, don’t wear those goggles, meow!” Xiaohua chirped, sitting beside her hand on the desk, nudging a flask on Xu Yanqing’s table in a playful threat.

“I want to see Xiao Qing’s eyes!”

The reason was rather flimsy.

In her Spirit Attire, Xu Yanqing snapped her fingers, causing a crystal rooted in the tabletop to firmly secure the beaker.

It was a well-known fact that a Magical Girl’s “transformation” required power from a magic core.

Before reaching the Sixth Rank, the magic core’s charging speed simply couldn’t keep up with its rate of consumption.

However, the magical aura within the High Tower was so incredibly dense that even maintaining a transformation wouldn’t deplete a magic core.

No one would refuse such readily available convenience, and the pragmatic Xu Yanqing certainly wouldn’t.

Her earlier decision to remain untransformed in front of the two was merely a matter of courtesy.

Now, Xu Yanqing simply wore a pair of clear goggles, a minor addition compared to her training gear.

Though their protective strength was inferior to the magical barrier inherent in her Spirit Attire, wearing them was purely Xu Yanqing’s personal preference.

They served as a reminder of her current identity as a “researcher,” even if these goggles were, ironically, the most scholarly-looking item in the entire High Tower.

Incidentally, the subject Xu Yanqing was currently researching happened to be the very same “various products” that were “rumored” to be beneficial for magic.

The results were, quite frankly, delightful:

To date, not a single useful thing had been proven, including the bandages once used by the Blue Witch.

Acquiring this single “experimental sample” had nearly exhausted Xu Yanqing’s entire year’s research budget.

For the Magical Girls, the atmosphere within the High Tower was actually quite… “relaxed,” or, to put it less kindly, “unhinged.”

It was a proven characteristic that a Magical Girl’s magic influenced their personality, specifically making them as “emotional” as children.

Tsundere tendencies, short tempers, and lethargy were all common manifestations of this.

Consequently, beyond their routine clean-up patrols, most other tasks within the High Tower were essentially play-acting, designed to help idle Magical Girls expend their excess energy.

A being like Xu Yanqing was, in every sense of the word, an “anomaly.”

When she first reported for duty, she had indeed lived a solitary, methodical, and rather dull existence, until…

“Xiaohua, please fetch me a magic crystal.”

After filling out the forms and completing the repetitive tasks that didn’t demand much thought, Xu Yanqing cleared her mind of any extraneous thoughts.

A single sample was merely isolated evidence; to transform this result into an “answer” she could accept, she needed to explore and prove much more.

Xu Yanqing lowered her eyelids, her attention refocusing on the magic crystal Xiaohua had handed her. With a carving knife, she etched a simple “spell formation” onto it, then attempted to resonate it with another sample.

Spell formations, strictly speaking, belonged to the mage system, proving far more effective for precise magical manipulation than the often crude Magical Girl system.

After a prolonged period of adjustments, Xu Yanqing continued her operations according to her usual procedure, seemingly arriving at a different answer through repeated comparisons.

Ultimately, it proved to be a tiny error made during the transcription process.

Amplified by the lengthy calculation, it had become a significant anomaly.

As Xu Yanqing reached her conclusion, the hand clutching her quill trembled slightly.

To her just half a month ago, such an oversight would have been not only inexplicable but utterly inconceivable.

However, this was not the first issue that had cropped up this week.

Xu Yanqing tossed aside her pen, then rubbed her forehead, pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, pressing them against her scalp repeatedly.

She knew exactly what the answer was.

She had been restless and preoccupied with worries for days.

Even the carefree fantasy creature had begun to worry about her, all because of Lin Xiaobai’s disappearance.

At this thought, Xu Yanqing, seeking to distract herself, posed a question to the cat grooming itself nearby:

“What time is it now?”

She then received an answer that silenced her, indicating enough time had passed for the sun to leisurely make its exit.

“Ah, alright then.” Xu Yanqing sighed once more.

It seemed today was no longer suitable for work; it was time to depart for her appointment.

She recalled the address Su Qingyao had sent her.

In truth, regarding Lin Xiaobai’s whereabouts, Xu Yanqing had already formed a rough guess in her heart after so much time had passed.

Why, then, was she still so persistent?

Because Xu Yanqing was a person who needed “answers.”

Nothing more.

****

Lu Zhichuan led Su Muxue by the hand, the latter clutching an ice pop. She narrowed her eyes like a cat, elegantly licking the treat with her tongue.

That particular trait was remarkably like her mother’s.

Lu Zhichuan suddenly recalled some past memories, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Though not often mentioned, Su Qingyao had been in constant contact with Lu Zhichuan these past few days.

Yet, Lu Zhichuan, who had initiated this communication, clearly detected expressions of “disdain” on the young girl’s face.

It turned out that in this era, where the new internet was still limited to inter-city connections and there were no true knowledge repositories, Lu Zhichuan served remarkably well as an “encyclopedia.”

Su Qingyao and Lu Zhichuan’s exchanges grew increasingly frequent. So much so that even as she sat amidst the ruins, distributing “protection guidelines” to the isolated residents, Su Qingyao was simultaneously live-texting him updates on a “training session.”

“Muxue, has your mother ever discussed with you about making friends at school?”

“She has, yes.”

Su Muxue tilted her head. “Mama said I should make more friends. But Mama also seems like she doesn’t really want Muxue to do that.”

“It’s very strange.”

“Then, Su Muxue, do you know why Mama is so contradictory?” Lu Zhichuan offered a subtle smile.

Seemingly in good spirits, the Hero decided to open his half-century-old treasure trove of wisdom for the curious child:

“Because your mother was just like little Muxue back then.”

“When I first met her, it was precisely because your mother, for once, had actively sought change.”

However, things had been far more complicated back then.

When Lu Zhichuan first met Su Qingyao, she was in the awkward position of having “finally found a friend, only to realize they were a bad influence.”