The white envelope was delicate and smooth, its texture adorned with what seemed like faint flower petals — completely different from the standard postal stationery, more like a work of art. But Ali paid no attention to these details. His gaze was fixed entirely on the several lines of elegant handwriting on the envelope, so familiar and so beautiful that his heart instantly blazed warm, banishing the chill of early spring.
He couldn't wait until he reached the classroom to open it. Walking through the cold wind, Ali pulled out the thick sheaf of letter paper inside and carefully unfolded it.
"...For the past few months, I hadn't received any reply from you, which worried me terribly. I feared something might have happened to you, or that something in our previous correspondence had hurt you. But I had no way to reach you. I'm so relieved that the truth wasn't what I had imagined..."
"...Our school has a two-month winter holiday. By the time I saw your letter, several had already piled up — I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long... I'm so glad you made it to Lontar. Regardless of how things turn out in the future, I believe this will be the most precious treasure of your life. Just as the famous playwright Mr. Farham wrote in *Land of a Thousand Lakes*: 'Youth allows for failure, so use these golden years to read more books, experience more things, and see more of this beautiful and cruel world.'"
"...In this era of ever-accelerating change, opportunities are everywhere. As long as you dare to think and act, you'll seize one eventually. But if you're afraid of failure and refuse to take responsibility or face anything, you'll only watch opportunity after opportunity slip through your fingers..."
"...You've been living in Lontar for several months now — is there anything you're not used to? What impressions do you have of those new things and changes I described in my letters? When I reread my own letters, my cheeks always flush, because I was so full of yearning and passion that I couldn't help but paint them with the most ornate, romantic brushstrokes. Now that I've managed to rein in those emotions a little, I realize I did embellish things too beautifully and too extravagantly — they don't quite match reality. Ali, what do you think? What do they look like in your eyes?"
"...I've always believed that perhaps in terms of finding alchemy workshop jobs and initial income over the first few years, a General Education school can't compare to Bluffale Academy. But if you want to achieve greater things and build a brighter future, then only a General Education school can provide the knowledge you need. During those first three years, don't be impatient. Everything you learn is helping you understand yourself — figuring out what you're good at and what you love — so that in the final two years, you can devour all the 'nourishment' you need like mad..."
"...In between your studies, don't forget to 'integrate' into Lontar. Only by becoming part of it can you truly feel every thrilling detail of the changing times — the kind of details that can help you spot opportunities. So I suggest you go out and explore more on weekends, or pick up a part-time job..."
"...On Rose Avenue, there's a little roadside tea house — comfortable atmosphere, authentic flavor. They've replaced a small orchestra with an Arcane Magic gramophone, keeping only two musicians... The Administrative District's Clown Theatre regularly puts on comedies that will have you in stitches... White Egret District may be a slum, but you can meet seasoned adventurers there. Their stories might be a bit exaggerated, but the things they've seen are truly unforgettable... When night falls, the Administrative District, the Nobility District, Queen's Avenue, and other places all offer views that look like the starry sky descending to the ground..."
Jane painted Lontar in her own unadorned prose, deliberately steering clear of luxurious and upscale places, making Ali feel as though he could see it all right before his eyes.
The letter held nothing ambiguous — pure friend-to-friend chatting. It wasn't stiff or overly polite, yet every detail was considered, warm and thoughtful, just like every letter before. Even so, Ali was overjoyed, reading it over and over again, and only put it away just before stepping into the classroom.
"...My post-holiday 'opening exam' result was second in the entire year. I'll be invited to visit the mages of Arlenga and tour the Atomic Research Institute... I've been to Arlenga before but was never permitted to enter the Magic Tower. This time I finally have the chance — I hope the Atomic Research Institute is even more wondrous than I imagined..."
Ali recalled the second-to-last paragraph Jane had written. Though she had tried to keep her tone measured and modest, her genuine delight shone through between every line.
At the thought of this, Ali's heart started pounding. The monthly exam results were about to be announced — did he have any chance of visiting Arlenga?
He sat on his chair in a state of restless anxiety, unable to calm down, until Professor Brain — the teacher who taught "Fundamentals of Arcane Theory" — walked in.
"Let me announce the monthly exam rankings now. The top twenty — the lucky ones who'll receive invitations to visit the City in the Sky," Brain said with a smile. The classroom fell silent in an instant.
"Dawn..." Brain began reading the list. With each name he called, an irrepressible cheer erupted.
One familiar name after another rang out, and one joyful voice after another rose up. Ali grew more and more tense — where was his name? Had he really failed to make the top twenty?
"Ricardo." Brain called the twentieth name.
Not me. Really not me. A crushing wave of disappointment hit Ali, making him taste the bitterness of failure — a bitterness he had never known before. Back in the past, in that small town, he had experienced failure before, but never while carrying such enormous hope.
It wasn't until the thirties that Ali finally heard his own name. This encounter taught dejected Ali a stark truth: his foundation was still far too weak. The gap between him and his classmates — those who had been steeped in Lontar's culture for years or had been tutored by scholars and Magic Apprentices for a year or two — was vast. No matter how hard he worked, if he wanted to close the gap, he would need to maintain this level of effort for at least another year.
In situations like this, many people chose to give up. When everyone starts at different points, how can you compete? But Ali thought of Jane's encouragement and his parents' expectations. He quietly clenched his fist and swore to himself that he would catch up, little by little. If others worked hard, then he would work five times, ten times as hard!