"Today's lesson ends here. Class is over." "Goodbye, teacher." The little girls said in unison.
Eileen closed her textbook and watched the children leave the classroom—this place had once been a Noble family's residence, but after the Evil Demon Month, it was seized by the Lord and transformed into an academy. The partition walls between the small rooms on both floors had been removed, creating several larger spaces that could accommodate four to six batches of apprentices simultaneously, referred to as "classes" in the textbook. During the day, the classes were mostly children, while at night, they were filled with adults.
She had assumed her application to become a teacher would take a long time to reach the town hall, but unexpectedly, after Filin reported the matter, she received approval the very next day. She then proceeded to the town hall to register her identity, collect teaching materials, and obtain a class assignment sheet.
Her students were primarily children from local families. To ensure these mischievous kids paid attention in class, she put in a lot of effort. The textbook even included a dedicated chapter on classroom discipline, which revealed some innovative methods beyond traditional verbal reprimands and cane punishments. These included recognizing outstanding students, forming study groups, appointing group leaders and class monitors, and encouraging self-discipline among them.
The author of this textbook must be a seasoned educator with years of teaching experience, which is why they could consider all aspects so comprehensively.
As she stepped out of the college, Irene immediately spotted Knight and Filling Silt waiting for her at the entrance.
He no longer wore the gleaming armor, holding the shield embroidered with a lion emblem and his longsword, yet remained strikingly handsome. His simple leather coat accentuated his tall frame, complemented by sharply defined features. Even with bare hands, he was still the dawn-bright figure she remembered.
Only after giving him a hug did Irene notice something was off with Philin's God-like glow.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"..." He paused for a moment. "Your Royal Highness has invited us to the palace for afternoon tea." Irene was taken aback. "Us?" She immediately understood his concern, patted his back, and shook her head. "Your Royal Highness hasn't even met me—how could he possibly be like the Duke? Besides, you're here with us." "Well," Philin nodded. "This time, I'll protect you." That afternoon, Irene dressed simply, choosing a tasteful long gown, and went to Lordcastle with her husband.
Guard ushered them into the reception hall, where a gray-haired man soon appeared at the doorway. Undoubtedly, he was Lord of the West, Roland Wimbledon Your Highness. A woman in her thirties accompanied him, her poised demeanor and refined features revealing she must have been a striking beauty in her youth. The two promptly rose and bowed respectfully.
"Welcome, the Silt couple," Roland said as he took his seat at the head of the table. "These are all court delicacies—please feel free to enjoy them without any restraint." "Thank you for the invitation," replied Filling in accordance with Noble protocol. "It is my honor to be here for this tea and snack."
The woman's name was Shujuan, who also headed the Education Department at City Hall. I believe you've met her before. "Indeed," he nodded respectfully, "I haven't thanked you yet. Without your permission, Irene wouldn't have become a teacher so quickly." She realized she had been helped by her, and Irene smiled gratefully in return.
After some casual conversation, Filling tentatively asked, "I wonder what Your Highness has called us here for?" "It's about education," Roland paused, glancing at Irene. "I heard you worked at the Fortress Theatre before. Were you a theater actor?" "Uh..." Irene hadn't expected His Royal Highness to ask this question. "I've only performed in one official production." "I plan to stage a play every weekend at the town square," Prince said directly. "The script, playwright, and conductor are all in place—only the cast is missing. With your limited classes and theater experience, I'd like you to star in this production. Of course, there will be extra pay. Would you be willing?" "..." Irene stared at His Highness in disbelief. After confirming he wasn't joking, she nodded excitedly. "Your Highness, I'm willing!" Performing on stage had always been her dream. After leaving the Grand Opera House, she knew she might never have another chance to perform. Facing Filling, she showed no regret, only keeping her wish hidden in her heart. Little did she know, she would one day return to the stage.
"These plays are meant for the general audience, so the requirements aren't too high—just ensure the story is told clearly. Do you have any friends at the Long Song Fortress who have some knowledge of theater and would like to perform but lack opportunities? If so, you could write them a letter saying there are performances every weekend in Border Town, with pay matching that of the Fortress Theater." "Can they also join? I know quite a few!" Eileen exclaimed excitedly. "I'll write to them when I get back. If they get a chance, I think they'd be happy to visit the town!" "Great," Roland handed over three notebooks. "These are scripts with numbers. Your performance starts with the first story. The content is adapted from books, closely reflecting everyday life. You can take them home to read carefully, and if you have questions, just ask the books." "Yes, Your Highness! Thank you!" Eileen bowed.
...
"Is this acceptable?" asked Shuluan. "Those stories were clearly your own creation." "What does it matter? In their eyes, Prince couldn't possibly write such vulgar material," Roland stretched lazily. "And without your final revisions, the script couldn't have been completed in such a short time." "I don't think the story is vulgar at all," she shook her head. "Though I don't understand why you're so certain, these are real-life events happening around people's necks—touching and thought-provoking. The performance will definitely be a hit." "Of course it will," Roland thought. The first two scripts, adapted from Cinderella and The Rooster's Cry, had already been tested by the public. The former depicted a heart-wrenching love story between commoners and royalty, while the latter portrayed the struggles of the lower class against unscrupulous landowners. Both had undergone local adaptations—Cinderella's witch became a Witch, and the landowner in The Rooster's Cry turned into a ruthless Little Noble. Roland planned to release his third work, The Witch's Diary, after the first two plays made a profound impact—that was his true intention.
This script, entirely conceived by him, tells the story of three children who become witches but each take vastly different paths. Without directly mentioning the Church, he focuses on their fateful journeys: one abandoned by her parents, another exploited as a tool, and the last fortunate child whose parents still deeply love her and sacrifice their lives to protect her. Ultimately, the three fortuitously reunite, overcome their enemies who sought to destroy them, and like ordinary people, find their own happiness.
Roland plans to develop *Witch Diary* into a series that reshapes outsiders' worldview, weaving a poignant narrative where even their own loved ones could become witches—challenging the notion that only villains are witches.