A golden butterfly slowly lifted from Sam Li's palms, leaving behind a shimmering trail of light as it danced through the air.
The moment it took flight, the surrounding students all widened their eyes in awe.
"It's glowing! That's a glowing butterfly!"
"Where did it come from? Did he have it hidden in his hands?"
"Ellen, look! He really conjured a golden butterfly—it's amazing!"
...
Hearing the excited chatter, Ellen walked over and leaned in for a closer look at the butterfly fluttering midair. Her expression turned to surprise—this was the first time she realized Sam Li actually knew magic tricks.
The next moment, she jumped up lightly, cupped her hands together, and gently caught the glowing butterfly.
Opening her hands again, the golden butterfly sat quietly in her palm.
But before she could study it further...
A burst of radiant gold light flashed from her hands.
The butterfly scattered like a firework, vanishing in a small explosion of glittering light.
Ellen blinked in confusion.
"Where'd it go?"
She glanced around but couldn't find a trace of the golden butterfly.
The other students were equally amazed.
"It disappeared—it really vanished from Ellen's hands!"
Ellen turned to Sam Li, puzzled.
"What happened to the butterfly?"
Sam Li replied calmly.
"It disappeared."
Ellen raised an eyebrow.
"That's weird. It was definitely still in my hand…"
She couldn't figure it out—how exactly had it vanished?
Her classmates, still thrilled, burst into cheers.
"That was incredible! I couldn't tell how you did it! Do it again! One more, please!"
But Sam Li didn't continue.
Instead, he turned toward the classroom door and said quietly,
"That's enough. The parent-teacher meeting's about to start."
Right on cue, a young teacher in a skirt stepped into the room.
Instantly, the entire classroom fell silent.
The conference had officially begun.
Ellen's enthusiasm evaporated.
"What a pain. Why do we even have these things? If it's just to give us our grades, why not just call?"
Sam Li chuckled.
"Maybe they think it makes things more lively."
Soon, the teacher began her speech—predictable and long-winded.
She droned on about curriculum, education policy, student growth… all the usual topics.
Eventually, she took out a stack of report cards and began handing them out to the parents.
Naturally, she used the opportunity to chat with each one about their child.
Since Ellen was sitting in the back row by the window, it took over an hour before the teacher made her way over.
She gave Sam Li a curious look.
"Sir, are you really Ellen's guardian?"
"I'm her older brother. You can just call me Sam Li."
The teacher nodded.
"Mr. Sam Li, this is Ellen's report card. Please have a look."
She handed the report to him.
Sam Li skimmed through the subjects:
Hollows Theory, The Harm and Use of Ether, Mathematics, Biology: The Birth of the Thirens, History of New Eridu… Each subject had a score of 60.
Exactly the pass mark.
Not a point more, not a point less.
Sam Li looked up.
"Is there an issue?"
The teacher frowned.
"There's a big one. Ellen is more than capable of getting full marks, but every time she only answers enough to score 60. Hold on, I'll show you one of her tests."
She rummaged through her bag and pulled out an exam paper.
It was spotless—one side completely blank, not a single answer written.
If not for the creases from grading, Sam Li might've mistaken it for a fresh sheet.
The teacher gestured.
"Turn it over."
Sam Li did—and on the back, every question had been answered, and all of them were correct.
In other words, Ellen had answered just one side of the test—and scored exactly 60.
He looked at her.
"What's this about?"
Ellen yawned.
"I only needed 60 to pass. Didn't feel like flipping it over."
The teacher sighed and turned to Sam Li.
"Mr. Sam Li, Ellen has incredible potential. If she applied herself, she could easily land a job with the Hollow Special Operations Department or the Public Security Bureau. Please don't let her throw that away."
And more than that, her consistently low scores dragged down the class average—a headache for both teacher and classmates.
Listening to the teacher's frustrated yet earnest lecture, Sam Li felt like he'd been transported back to his own school days.
His old teachers had sounded exactly the same.
He nodded.
"Understood."
The teacher sighed again.
"Ellen is very gifted. Don't let her waste it."
Sam Li nodded once more.
"Mm."
After the teacher moved on, Ellen began tapping her foot impatiently.
"What Special Ops Department, what Public Security Bureau? They're not as relaxed and free as Victoria Housekeeping. I'm not interested. Even if they begged me, I wouldn't go."
Sam Li smiled.
"Most people would dream of jobs like that."
While others were grinding away, hoping to qualify for the Bureau or Special Ops, Ellen was not only passing her classes but also working part-time for Victoria Housekeeping—taking on assignments her peers couldn't even imagine.
And now Sam Li understood why she'd rather nap than finish a test.
Laziness was part of it, yes.
But the real reason?
She had real missions, real work. She needed these little fragments of downtime to stay at peak condition.
Sam Li said quietly,
"If you got a perfect score, I'm sure Mr. Lycaon and Miss Rina would be pleased."
Ellen rolled her eyes.
"They don't care about that stuff."
She leaned back on her desk and closed her eyes to rest again.
Sam Li said softly,
"Feel free to sit down and relax."
Ellen shook her head.
"No. You sit—I'm the student, you're the brother today."
...
Not long after, the teacher passed by again and stopped to chat more with Sam Li about Ellen's academic situation.
Clearly, she had high expectations and wanted to guide Ellen toward something greater.
Even someone like Sam Li could only nod patiently through the endless advice.
"Ellen may be a handful, but I appreciate your efforts. She'll start taking her studies more seriously soon."
Just then, Ellen yawned from the side.
"It's already noon. This thing still isn't over?"
The teacher glanced at her lazy posture and sighed—completely out of ideas.