Chapter 23 : The Girls of a Tumultuous Season (1)

Jianle’s days followed a strict routine.

To her, time was something never to be wasted if it could be avoided.

Like now—she and her dormmate Dorothy Byrne had agreed on a wake-up time, and Jianle made sure not only to wake herself but also to rouse Dorothy, helping her get ready and keeping a careful eye on the clock so they could leave for Jadecrest Academy on time.

Dorothy always grumbled about it, but Jianle didn’t mind.

If she wanted to catch up to her monstrously talented roommate, then this was just another part of her daily life.

“Good morning, Jianle.”

As Jianle was organizing the books in her hands, Lucia—Miss Lu—walked over and greeted her.

“Morning,” Jianle replied with a nod.

She recognized Lucia as one of Dorothy’s friends.

Competent enough, but she always set her sights too high, which only made life harder for herself.

After all, a magician trying to challenge the youngest witch in history was essentially forcing herself to become someone entirely superior to who she currently was.

Still, Jianle admired that kind of reckless courage.

If Lucia didn’t have the guts to chase the summit, Jianle wouldn’t even be interested in holding a conversation with her.

“You’re the first one here again,” Lucia said as she sat down at the desk in front of Jianle, striking up a casual conversation.

“Hmm?”

Jianle glanced up, puzzled, casting a curious look at the girl in front of her.

“If you’re here to dig into rumors about me and Sheffil, then I can only say—those are nothing but gossip.”

Normally, Lucia would just say hello and leave it at that.

For some reason, Jianle always sensed a faint hostility from her, a sense of distance carefully maintained.

But today, Lucia suddenly decided to chat—Jianle could only think of the tabloid article that had come out two days ago.

“Eh? Ah, well, not just that…”

Lucia froze, and her face immediately showed an awkwardness at being found out.

She waved her hands quickly in defense.

So easily exposed.

Wearing an embarrassed smile, Lucia felt her emotions swirling like a bottle of mixed spices.

She had indeed read the article two days ago and came here to verify it.

But unlike others who came simply to gossip, she had another reason—she wanted to see if she still had a chance.

Anyone who had spent even a year at Jadecrest Academy knew that Dorothy, the golden girl, was almost always flanked by Jianle and Sheffil.

No matter the method or title, no one could shake Jianle’s place by Dorothy’s side—let alone Sheffil, the childhood friend who seemed welded to her since day one.

As long as those two remained, Dorothy had no need to build any deep bonds with anyone else.

Besides, they were already the top-tier students of their year.

With Jianle being practically invincible and Dorothy close behind, there was no need for them to form any other alliances—even if Sheffil was often the weakest link.

Coming from a humble family, Lucia had always been sharp enough to notice things others ignored.

And she could tell—Dorothy held feelings for both of them that went beyond mere friendship.

Toward Sheffil, perhaps a familial closeness; but toward Jianle…

Lucia didn’t want to guess.

She didn’t dare to know.

If the three of them kept playing at their childhood friendship, that ironclad triangle of innocent bonds, then Dorothy would never leave her comfort zone.

And Lucia?

She’d never have a chance to step closer.

But what if—what if Jianle and Sheffil pulled away from Dorothy together?

What would become of Dorothy, who had always lived so smoothly?

She’d be sad, wouldn’t she?

She’d be heartbroken, right?

And in the crack left by that pain—could there be room for someone new?

Not a sister.

Not a best friend.

But her.

Lucia.

The girl who could be the one closest to Dorothy’s heart.

When that thought first popped into her head, Lucia had to stifle a laugh.

She was someone raised with love, neither arrogant nor self-deprecating.

Neighbors loved her.

The heavens had even gifted her with exceptional magical talent.

Her life had always been full of opportunity.

And Dorothy?

She had only ever seen her as a goal—an unreachable rival she chased with admiration.

Every day has been joyful.

She’d made friends, shared laughter, and found a rival worth pursuing for life.

Her days had been nothing short of a dream.

So why… Why had such a dark thought bloomed inside her?

To stoop so low—just to stay beside someone?

She hadn’t thought so little of herself, had she?

And yet, as if bewitched, she’d been the first to show that dubious article to Dorothy.

The shock, the disbelief, and… the silent sorrow of betrayal.

Expressions Lucia had never seen before that day.

Just thinking about how close she came to missing that performance of emotions made her shudder with a strange joy.

And imagining that those precious expressions had only ever been shown to Sheffil and Jianle before—it made her so jealous her skin crawled.

She wanted more…

“Thanks, Lucia. But I need to go find that bastard Sheffil and ask him something. I’ll see you later.”

Not just expressions—she wanted to hear Dorothy’s every heartbeat, kiss the curve of her ears, know every flicker of joy, rage, sorrow, and delight.

“Ah, take care… she’s gone…”

She wanted every moment of Dorothy’s life to be drawn to her, just as she yearned for Dorothy.

She wanted to guide Dorothy’s every breath.

She wanted Dorothy’s every heartbeat to thrum for her.

She wanted Dorothy—to belong to her.

So this is who I am?

At that moment, Lucia understood herself completely.

She was a girl with feelings too heavy for her own heart.

Whether the lively girl next door or the gifted prodigy others admired—at this moment, she was just a girl in love with her best friend, longing with every breath for a love that had yet to arrive.

Holding onto that thought, she hadn’t slept properly in two days.

She came early to the academy just to confirm the truth.

But like a shimmering bubble popping midair, her dream-like illusion had been effortlessly shattered by Jianle’s blunt declaration.

Jianle would never lie—Lucia knew that from a year of being her classmate.

Jianle wouldn’t stoop that low.

Still—

“When I first heard it, I was surprised too,” Lucia said with a half-smile, leaning lazily on Jianle’s desk.

“But thinking about it now, there’s no way a guy like Sheffil could fool you. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Hmmph. In the end, he’s just Sheffil,” she added with a dismissive shrug.

Jianle lifted her chin proudly, clearly satisfied with the comment.

Lucia lowered her gaze, staring at Jianle’s expressionless yet smug face, her mind drifting back to a breezy afternoon ten years ago—when her father had asked her what she dreamed of becoming.

Back then, she had chewed on her finger and asked him what a ‘dream’ even meant.

Now?

She could give him an answer without hesitation.