The Cornflower Witch Chapter 257

The following week, Sylphidya and Lucas remained in Scorched Stone City, though they disguised themselves to avoid direct exposure to soldiers and civilians.

Under their supervision and assistance, A Lu gradually gained control over the soldiers in Scorched Stone City, ensuring that all soldiers received a sum of money in the process. This made everyone complicit, preventing some from actively leaking information.

Due to the duo’s attacks, the high-end combat power in Scorched Stone City was significantly reduced, and the soldiers also became much more restrained than before. A Lu also told the soldiers that the two mysterious and powerful figures would monitor them from the shadows.

With this fear, bullying behavior in Scorched Stone City greatly decreased. Afterwards, the two also contacted some reclusive scholars and young apprentices taught by Scholar Hyde, gradually replacing the Anti People in managing the city.

The Anti soldiers, while somewhat displeased and resistant towards these new administrators, slowly accepted them under A Lu’s suppression and governance. In truth, most of them were uneducated and didn’t know how to handle various affairs, such as calculations, summaries, and planning. What they truly cared about was the reduction of their personal gains after losing power.

To solidify the loyalty of his allies, A Lu took 10 strings of the 20 strings of “Blood Currant” given by Sylphidya to win over the First and Second Tier officers in the garrison, thus finally stabilizing the situation.

As for the future, the war in the Southern Continent was still ongoing. Whether the Anti Kingdom would still exist was uncertain, and who could predict the situation in ten years?

;

After settling the affairs of Scorched Stone City, Sylphidya arrived at the former residence of Madam Fran.

The main gate was closed, and emerald green vines climbed the walls. The slightly rusty lock indicated that no one had lived there for some time.

Sylphidya took out the key Madam Fran had entrusted to the association from her sleeve, inserted it into the lock, and gently turned it. With a click, the lock sprang open.

She slowly pushed open the large doors, as if breaking an invisible seal, allowing the mansion within to be bathed in light once more.

Upon entering, she saw a slightly desolate inner courtyard. The formerly neat lawn was now overgrown with weeds of varying heights, and while flowers still bloomed in the flowerbeds, other plants had also appeared.

The white doors of the manor were closed, and all the windows were shut.

Sylphidya approached, opened the door, and entered. She walked through the hall and corridors, which were covered with a thin layer of dust, and opened every tightly sealed door and window.

Then, a gentle breeze blew through, causing the curtains to sway calmly.

The scenery here was unchanged, but compared to the past, it was exceptionally quiet.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room, as the sun began to set, Sylphidya opened the letter Madam Fran had left for her. Reading the beautifully penned words, she recalled the first day she met her teacher.

“Tiya, welcome back.

By the time you open this letter, I will likely have departed for the Northern Continent, the place where I was born.

It is a small country, famous for its blooming bluebells.

I have complex feelings about my homeland: nostalgia, sadness, antiquity, suppression, and occasionally, it appears in my dreams even when I dislike it.

In your mind, my image might be mature and grand. This is how I became after traveling to many places and accumulating experiences over time. Few people now would know of my childhood or my youth.

Books turn page by page, and people change little by little. The beginning of a story might be a very small thing, a tiny, helpless figure, but by the end of the story, people have long forgotten that initial small beginning, remembering only its most fiery and flourishing state.

The vastness of the difference and the depth of the change are beyond imagination for those who haven’t read that thick book, but this is the truth.

I have grown into the person I once yearned to be. The things that once hurt and confined me can no longer hinder me, so I have decided to return to that place and resolve the regrets of the past.

Life is not long, but it is certainly not short. Many problems cannot be solved by your current self. If one day you feel exceptionally difficult and helpless, then travel.

Go to other places, experience new people and things, and begin anew and grow again.

Do this over and over, until one day you are strong enough, strong enough to calmly face your past. Then, return and rescue your helpless self from back then.

This letter might cause you some distress and doesn’t have much to do with your current self, but people often want to pass on what they cherish most when they leave.

This is my most cherished thought, and the truth I have never told you before, a part of my own experiences.

People yearn for their true selves to be seen and understood by others, but also fear this truth being exposed, because it is their most vulnerable flaw. Thus, many unutterable words usually only have a chance to be spoken at the time of parting.

Because at this time, they will no longer meet.

Bluebell Plain is a very distant place, and you will stay in the Woodland for a long time. When we meet again, it might already be more than ten years from now.

I wish you good luck with your studies again, that you find the past you cherish, and discover life’s multiple surprises.

—Your senior horticulturist, Fran”

After reading the letter, Sylphidya gazed at the sky outside the living room again. By now, parts of the distant azure sky were tinged with rosy clouds.

The wind still sighed, gently weaving around the windowsill and curtains, reminding the girl of the scene when she first moved here, with a hint of caution, joy mixed with anticipation, and fear of performing poorly and being blamed.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly thereafter. Madam Fran didn’t impose any restrictions on her. Although Lilin occasionally spoke sharply, she never treated Sylphidya dismissively, patiently and meticulously teaching her things she completely didn’t understand.

This feeling was absent in her previous life, but in this life, she had experienced it twice. The striking contrast between the two lives made her both happy and sorrowful, for the beautiful contrast highlighted her past poverty and pain.

Rising, Sylphidya, filled with emotion, slowly walked through the manor, her fingers tracing familiar objects—the walls, tables, chairs, decorations, and the figures from her memories, including her own, Talir’s, Lilin’s, and Madam Fran’s.

Finally, she arrived at the manor’s backyard, where a field of golden sunflowers still grew. However, these sunflowers were newly planted by Madam Fran before she left and did not possess any aspects.

Although Madam Fran hadn’t mentioned anything about the flower field, Sylphidya sensed the unspoken intentions of the lady through her actions, likely wanting to test her, to see if she could recreate that beautiful golden sea of flowers.

Thinking this, Sylphidya once again picked up a watering can and entered the familiar flower field, beginning to care for these newborn children, the new sunflowers cultivated by her, the new owner of the manor.