Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wilford frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Ace raised his eyes and looked at his father's face. There was something in that gaze, not anger, not resentment, but a strange calm.

Do you remember that box in your study when I was a child?

Wilford's expression changed.

"It's locked, and I never let anyone touch it." Ace's voice was neither fast nor slow. "When I was eight years old, you forgot to lock it one time, and I secretly opened it to take a look. Inside was a pink dress with lace trim, and a pair of high heels."

Wilford's fingers clenched tightly on his knees.

"You told me back then that those were my mother's clothes from when she was young. I believed you. Later I found out that all of my mother's clothes from when she was young were locked in her own closet, and the ones in that trunk in your study were yours."

Wilford's face turned pale.

"I didn't understand back then. Why would someone hide women's clothes? Later I understood." Ace's voice was soft. "Why would a man like to wear women's clothes? Because he likes to be a woman. Why would a man like to be a woman? Because..."

He paused.

"Because he wanted to be a woman since he was a child."

Wilford's hands were trembling.

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

"Am I talking nonsense?" Ace chuckled. "Is that box of clothes still there? Should we send someone to look for it? It's in the box at the very back of your study, under the third shelf."

Wilford stood up.

The chair was pulled back half a foot by him, and the table leg scraped against the floor with a screeching sound.

"you!"

"What about me?" Ace didn't move, the rope around his shoulders remaining perfectly still. "I'm your son, of course I'm like you. You like wearing skirts, I like men. What's the difference?"

Wilford's hand rested on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

"That's different."

"What's different?"

Wilford remained silent and did not speak.

Ace looked at him.

"What is that? Tell me!"

Wilford opened his mouth. What could he say? That he wore skirts not to be a woman, but for fun?

In fact, the clothes were custom-made for him in the capital. Every month on the day of thanksgiving, he would dress in women's clothing at night and go to Green Nightingale Street to meet his mistress, not for any other reason than the sense of taboo. This was his fetish, and had nothing to do with liking men.

He said he couldn't bring himself to say it.

So what is it?

He couldn't answer.

"Tell me!" Ace's voice cracked. "Tell me what that is! Tell me, what exactly caused me to become like this all these years! If you can explain it clearly, I..."

Wilford's face was half-lit and half-shadowed in the candlelight.

"Whatever that is," Wilford interrupted Ace, "I have never liked men, and I have never done any of those... immoral things."

Ace stared at him for a long time.

Then he laughed.

His smile was full of sarcasm.

"Okay, okay," Ace repeated.

"You're the only normal person. You've never done anything immoral in your life. You're the only good mayor, the only good husband, the only good father."

He paused, the smile still lingering on his lips.

"And I, Ace, am a piece of trash who brings shame to my family."

A muffled thud came from outside the door, like something hitting it.

Wilford turned his head.

"Who is it?!"

There was a moment of silence outside the door.

The old butler's voice came in, a little lower than usual.

"Sir, it's me. I tripped while passing by."

Wilford stared at the door for a few moments, then turned back. Ace was still sitting in the chair, leaning against the backrest, his eyes half-closed.

"How long do you plan to keep me tied up?"

Wilford did not answer.

"If you feel ashamed, then send me away. Send me far away, somewhere no one knows me. Anyway, I have no reason to stay in this house."

Wilford offered to untie him.

"Shut up."

Ace really shut up.

On the other side, in the shadows at the end of the corridor.

Had had been standing there for a long time, ever since Ace was tied up. He listened to every word, every pause. His hearing wasn't as good as it used to be, but tonight he could hear every word clearly.

As Ace walked past him, he took a half step back, hiding himself in the deeper shadows.

After Ace left, Had prayed silently.

God!

If I really made a mistake when I was young...

Then please punish me.

Don't let the retribution fall on them.

……

Celine and her daughter leaving the church.

Night had completely fallen.

The carriage stopped at the foot of the stone steps, and the driver opened the door. Sophie climbed in first, followed by Celine, who bent down and touched the door frame, her movements a beat slower than usual.

There were no lights in the carriage; only the streetlights leaked through the gaps in the curtains, casting streaks of light on the mother and daughter's faces.

The carriage started moving.

Sophie leaned against the carriage wall, her gaze fixed on the scenery outside the window, her fingers unconsciously tracing circles on her knees. Celine sat opposite her, her back ramrod straight, hands resting on her lap, her posture perfectly upright, just as it had been when she arrived.

But her hands were trembling.

My legs were shaking too.

It wasn't the kind of trembling you feel from fear; it was a different kind.

Sophie turned her head.

"Mother."

Celine's hand stopped.

"Um?"

"You just now..." Sophie paused.

"How are you feeling?"

Celine looked at her daughter. The carriage was dark, so her expression couldn't be seen, but there was something in Sophie's voice—not curiosity, but a kind of unspoken probing.

"How does it feel?" Celine's voice was flat.

Sophie remained silent for a moment.

"Water magic".

Celine didn't respond.

Sophie continued, "When you went in... when you came out, your face was red, just like that day when I... just like that day when I came out of the church."

Celine's fingers trembled again.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mother, I'm not a child anymore." Sophie's voice was soft, but every word was clear. "I understand that feeling."

The carriage remained quiet for a long time.

Celine spoke up.

"no the same."

"What's different?"

Celine thought for a moment.

You heal the body. I heal the soul.

Healing the heart?

Sophie was completely speechless. After all, what her mother said made sense; magic could indeed heal the soul.

The panel popped up as the carriage drove out of the third street.

[Cerin's Water Magic Healing Report]

[Treatment Results: Skin condition improved. Long-suppressed emotions were effectively released, and emotional state became more stable.]

[Note: The loneliness of this lonely woman was completely dispelled this afternoon. She never expected that her daughter's recommendation of "shopping" would bring such a wonderful surprise. Indeed, a daughter is a mother's little angel.]

[Note 3: She was numb. For years, she thought this was what it meant to be a woman, that this was how her life would be. This afternoon, she experienced life all over again.]

[P.S.: Everyone has their own unique characteristics, and Celine is no exception. If I had to pinpoint a characteristic of Celine, it would probably be that she's very compatible with your magic.]