Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Before setting off, the black-haired princess chose a plain-colored casual dress, tied her hair into a simple ponytail, and wore only a pair of silver earrings on her earlobes.

It was a gift from her husband on their wedding anniversary; it had no magical properties, just ordinary handmade silver jewelry.

Before setting off, she picked up the communication crystal and edited an extremely short message.

Recipient: Ron Ralph

The message contained only one sentence: "My ancestors said my mother is still alive and asked me to go and fetch her."

After sending the message, she put the crystal into her sleeve without waiting for a reply.

But the crystal started vibrating less than three steps outside the room.

Eve quickly took it out and glanced at it, replying just as briefly: "Be careful, call me if anything happens."

That was a reply in the style of a mentor; she pouted slightly, sounding a bit resentful.

………………

Stepping out of the teleportation array, one finds oneself on a layer of soft fallen leaves.

In late autumn, the Emerald Forest is at its most vibrant with color.

“Your Highness, it takes about twenty minutes to walk from here to Mrs. Allen’s herbal medicine shop.”

Caroline followed half a step behind, her voice soft.

"Ah."

Eve nodded and walked slowly along the forest path, deliberately not quickening her pace.

She finally stopped when the outline of the herbal medicine shop came into view.

"Your Highness," Caroline called softly.

The black-haired princess took a deep breath and stepped forward.

As soon as the door opened, the distinctive aroma of the herbal medicine shop wafted out.

The shelves were neatly arranged with bottles and jars of all sizes, the labels bearing the neat handwriting of her best friend, Lilia.

Behind the counter, a figure was bending down to organize samples of medicinal herbs.

She was wearing a work apron, her hair was casually tied back, and a few stray hairs stuck to her forehead with sweat.

There was still some plant sap under my fingernails, a trace left from trimming fresh silver ferns this morning.

This is the person I've been looking for.

Former master of the Crystal Spire, the youngest and most powerful wizard of our time, and the patriarch of the Crown Clan.

Now, she works as a general maid at a herbal medicine shop.

"Welcome, what would you like to do?"

The woman behind the counter was busy with her work, habitually using greetings.

She has said this countless times over the years.

He spoke to the shamans who came to buy medicinal herbs, to the merchants who came to pick up their goods, and to the apprentices who came to inquire about prices.

After speaking it a lot, the tongue can automatically complete the string of syllables without the brain needing to participate.

Seeing that there was no response, the woman frowned and looked up.

The next moment, two pairs of identical amethyst eyes met.

A packet of silver dew ferns fell onto the counter, scattering broken leaves everywhere.

Cassandra's lips parted slightly, and the color drained from her cheeks at a visible speed.

Then, she did something incredibly stupid.

"Um... what kind of medicinal herbs do you need?"

After saying that, she lowered her head, pretending not to recognize the person in front of her.

The stupidity of this action is comparable to using a leaf to block out the sun.

Because these two people look so alike.

They have the same cascading black hair, amethyst eyes, and even their facial features are cut from the same mold.

Caroline stood behind her princess, staring in disbelief at the scene before her.

Seeing that the other party was putting on a brave face, Eve did not immediately expose him.

She chose a gentler, yet more cruel, approach.

"Could you please check if there are any medicinal herbs that can treat 'Hollowed Atrophy'?"

Upon hearing this, Cassandra's fingers trembled slightly.

"I...we're just an ordinary herbal medicine shop, I'm afraid we can't handle such high-grade herbs..."

She lowered her voice, trying to build a wall with her trained politeness.

But her daughter clearly had no intention of giving the wall a chance to exist.

"What about the 'removal of foreign energy' method?"

The black-haired princess's tone remained indifferent, like the soft sound of a scalpel cutting through skin.

Precise and cold, yet it opened the wound in an instant.

"I heard that someone has been wandering in the universe for more than 60 years, swallowing things that he shouldn't have swallowed, and now he looks like a tattered rag doll with holes everywhere."

"besides."

Eve's voice changed, and the deliberately maintained indifference gradually crumbled:

“I heard that after this man came back, he preferred to work as a maid in a medicine shop rather than see his daughter.”

After those words were spoken, the entire herbal medicine shop fell silent.

Cassandra heard a sob that was clenched between teeth and looked up sharply.

The black-haired princess bit her lower lip, her eyes misting over.

Her eyelashes were trembling.

It was very light and quick, like a butterfly alighting on a petal being startled by a sudden gust of wind.

“…Little Eve.”

Cassandra finally called out her daughter's name.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say a lot.

I want to say "I'm sorry" for all those years of indifference, control, and hurt done in the name of love.

Or she might say, "I'm back," even though her return was so humiliating that she didn't even have the courage to face her daughter.

And the words I want to say most are, "Mom misses you." These words have been churning in my chest for decades, burning my throat with their intensity.

But what escaped from his lips was a completely nonsensical sentence:
"Your hair doesn't look tied up properly; it's a bit loose."

Eve was stunned.

Caroline behind them, as well as Lilia and Mrs. Allen peeking through the crack in the door, were equally puzzled.

After realizing what she had said, Cassandra's face turned from pale to flushed.

The level of panic she was experiencing at this moment was probably the highest she had ever been in her life.

"Um, I'm not..."

Eve was amused by her mother.

"We haven't seen each other for sixty-three years."

She laughed as she wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand: "The first thing you said to me was this?"

Cassandra's face flushed even redder: "I... well... it's a habit..."

Yes, I'm used to it.

When my daughter was little, the first thing I did every morning was to check her appearance.

Hair must be neat and tidy, clothes must be wrinkle-free, nails must be trimmed to the appropriate curve, and posture must conform to etiquette standards.

At that time, this was a concrete manifestation of the desire for control.

She regards her daughter as her most important creation and cannot tolerate the slightest flaw.

But now, when this sentence is uttered, it carries a completely different meaning.

The same flower, planted in an iron cage, is imprisonment; planted on a windowsill, it is a source of longing.

Eve raised her hand to touch her ponytail, picking up a stray strand of hair that was sticking up.

"Your harshness hasn't changed at all."

She took two steps forward.

He stretched out his arms and hugged the woman in front of him, who was much thinner than he remembered.

Cassandra froze, somewhat at a loss.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been hugged.

Perhaps it was during childhood, when he was still very close to Vivian and the others?
Or perhaps even further back in time, so far back that even memories have faded to ashes?
Eve held him very tightly.

"mom."

This was the first time she had used this title since she could remember.

The word slipped from his lips and pierced through the last line of defense.

Cassandra's tears fell.

Silent, scalding hot, as if decades of ice had melted away.

………………

I don't know how much time passed.

It might only take a few minutes, or it might take half a century.

When the mother and daughter parted, both of their eyes were red.

Caroline stood discreetly in the corner, her gaze fixed on a glass bottle on the shelf labeled "Evening Primrose (3-Year-Old)".

She has read the label dozens of times, and can even memorize the tiny, almost illegible precautions in the ingredient list.

"Have you cried enough?"

Mrs. Allen came out of the kitchen.

She glanced at Cassandra first.

The other person's eyes were still moist, their nose was red, and their apron was crumpled into a ball.

Then I glanced at Eve again.

The black-haired princess's ponytail has completely gone crooked; not only is the left side loose, but the entire elastic band has almost slipped to the end of her hair.

"Senior..."

Cassandra instinctively greeted her.

Then, she suddenly realized that her daughter was standing right next to her.

Speaking to her daughter in such a submissive, wifely tone was second only to the awkwardness of their first meeting.

Seeing the embarrassment on her mother's face, Eve smiled and decided to add insult to injury on this topic.

“Grandma Allen.” She looked at Mrs. Allen, smiling warmly.
"How is my mother doing here?"

Upon hearing the word "grandmother," the old woman's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

"It'll have to do."

She went behind the counter and took the writing board from the wall of tools.

The writing board was covered with sticky notes of various colors.

Blue represents daily tasks, yellow represents precautions, and pink represents "mistakes record".

The pink column is unusually long.

"In the first month after I arrived, I broke my thin-walled teacup with green leaf pattern."

Cassandra shrank her neck into her shoulders.

"That was a graduation gift from my professor. There was only one set in the whole world. Once it's broken, it's broken. There's nothing I can do to get it back."

Mrs. Allen turned to the second page of the pink sticky note:
"The medicinal soup has been burned countless times."

I eventually stopped counting how many times I confused evening primrose with night-blooming jasmine.

Even my dumbest apprentice can tell the difference between these two plants.

Cassandra's face grew increasingly red, almost blending into the jar of dried red thorn berries on the shelf.

"It got a little better in the second month." Mrs. Allen held up two fingers:
"She only broke one tea set, and it was an ordinary one this time, so I didn't bother with it."

The medicinal soup was barely drinkable, although the taste was...

She turned her head to look at her favorite student following behind her and nodded.

Lilia stood at the kitchen doorway, waving her hands repeatedly in front of her:
"Madam! That's because we added double the amount of Sophora flavescens! It's not a matter of taste, it's a matter of concentration!"

She turned to Cassandra, somewhat amused and exasperated.

"Ms. Cassandra mistook 'a teaspoon' for 'a tablespoon' that time, and the dosage of Sophora flavescens was multiplied several times over."

My students turned green after drinking it, and the next day none of them wanted to go into the kitchen again.

Cassandra's lips moved, as if she wanted to defend herself.

But in the end, he just muttered, "The markings on the measuring cup are too small."

The credibility of this statement coming from a high-ranking wizard is practically zero.

Eve looked at her mother's current state—head down, face flushed, like a student being punished by the teacher.

Besides disbelief, she also felt a strange sense of pleasure.

This is not the mother I remember.

She had never seen anyone dare to speak to Cassandra like that.

Even when Professor Utter was still alive, he mostly guided and advised his students with gentle words and persuasion.

Not to mention the wizards who are subordinates in the Alliance of Schools.

"Later, things gradually got on track."

Mrs. Allen's tone softened without her realizing it.

"By the third year, she was able to independently complete some tasks related to the classification and storage of medicinal materials."

It's a bit slow, but the accuracy is okay.

Occasionally, I make minor mistakes, but no longer the kind of catastrophic errors that could ruin an entire batch of medicinal herbs.

Mrs. Allen sighed as she looked at Cassandra's embarrassed expression:
“I taught her a lot of things, such as how to distinguish herbs, how to make soup, how to clean, and how to cook.”

"But there is one thing that I did not teach."

“What?” Eve asked.

"Why do you squat down to look at the flowers?"

The old woman walked up to Cassandra and their eyes met.

"It's been several years, and you have indeed changed."

"...What has it become?"

Cassandra looked at her daughter, who was covering her mouth and giggling beside her, and asked somewhat embarrassedly.

"I've become someone who knows that evening primrose leaves don't have serrated edges."

Cassandra paused for a moment.

This statement is utterly meaningless.

The difference between evening primrose and night-blooming jasmine is the most basic knowledge in herbal identification, and any potion apprentice should memorize it in the first week.

But she understood.

This statement isn't about herbs at all; it's about an attitude.
Bend down, lower your head, and shift your gaze away from the stars and the scepter.

She stepped onto the dew-dampened soil to see clearly those "trivial matters" that she had once considered insignificant.

Give me the apron.

Mrs. Allen reached out and pulled the apron, which had been crumpled beyond recognition, from between her fingers.

“Go home with your daughter. Senior Elena has already told me.”

She folded the apron and placed it on the counter:

"The process of clearing foreign substances from your body has entered its later stages."

Five types were removed, leaving two types entrenched near the core of the void, in a very tricky location.

"If Elena continues to peel them slowly by herself here, there simply isn't enough time."

She looked at Eve:
"While the spiritual environment of the forest is suitable for healing, the crystal coffin in your ancestral land is currently the best option to recover to combat level in a short period of time."

Eve nodded slightly.

The crystal coffin can seal away previous wizards, and naturally it can also heal injuries, but ordinary people are not qualified to use it. "Senior."

Cassandra suddenly spoke, her tone hesitant:

"The silver ferns in the backyard haven't been processed yet; tomorrow is the final harvest..."

These words silenced the entire herbal medicine shop once again.

Eve blinked and took a step back from her mother.

Caroline also woke up from the hypnotic effect of the "evening primrose (three years old)" jar, turned her head, and her face was full of disbelief.

Lilia's mouth opened into a full "O" shape.

Everyone's expressions conveyed the same message:
Is this woman really Cassandra, who conquered countless other worlds and made the entire School Alliance tremble?

What kind of great wizard, after reuniting with his daughter and just as she was about to be taken home, was thinking about the herbs in his backyard?
Mrs. Allen smiled with relief.

Looking at the other person's smile, Cassandra suddenly realized that in all these years, her senior had never shown her that kind of expression.

"Go."

Mrs. Allen waved her hand:

"I let my apprentices handle the matter of the silver dew fern. Although they are clumsy, they are still better than someone who couldn't even distinguish between the rhizome and the fibrous roots."

She turned and walked back to the kitchen without looking back.

"If you miss working here..."

Before the door closed, a sound drifted out from under the door:

“You can come back anytime. The weeds in the yard won’t stop growing just because you’re gone.”

Cassandra stood blankly behind the counter, still clutching the small pair of trimming scissors in her hand.

She looked down at the scissors, gently placed them on the counter, blade facing inward, and arranged them neatly.

This is what Lilia taught her.

Tools should be returned to their original position after use, with the blade facing inwards to prevent accidental injury to the next user.

“Come home, Mom.” Eve reached out her hand.

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, then shook her hand.

My fingertips were icy cold, my palms were slightly damp, but I was gripping them tightly.

………………

As I stepped out of the herbal medicine shop, the afternoon sun of the Emerald Forest was gently bathing the stone path.

The air was filled with the scent of pine resin, moss, and spring mud; birds were chirping in the distance, and a stream was whispering nearby.

Eve walked in front, Cassandra followed half a step behind, and Caroline silently lagged behind.

After walking silently for a while, Cassandra couldn't hold back any longer.

Where is your husband?

She didn't say "Ron," nor did she angrily call him "that brat."

Instead, they used "your husband," which is a formal acknowledgment of someone's position in the family.

“Running back and forth between the small chessboard and the chaotic world of blood, busy with experiments,” Eve replied calmly.

“A small chessboard?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Yes, I traded it for your position as the tower master."

These words were too direct, like a blunt punch delivered without any cushioning, landing squarely on Cassandra's heart.

She hesitated for several seconds before finally managing to squeeze out, "...He did the right thing."

Eve turned around, somewhat surprised.

She had prepared herself for all sorts of reactions from her mother—anger, questioning, sarcasm, and even silent resistance.

The only thing I didn't expect was the acceptance.

“That position has been vacant for so many years and has become a burden for the Crown Clan.”

Cassandra's gaze fell on the back of her hand:
"The judgment of exchanging a resource that is temporarily out of control for actual benefits is correct."

"Antigon is no pushover, but in the current situation, he is an acceptable candidate."

She paused for a moment, as if chewing over each word that followed.

"It's much better than leaving that position vacant and using it as an excuse for various forces to fight over it."

"Aren't you angry?"

Eve's voice was tentative.

"angry?"

Cassandra looked up: "What right do I have to be angry?"

"What right does someone who hasn't been home for decades have to criticize those who stay behind?"

After these words were spoken, the woods fell silent for a short while.

"Then..." Eve moved closer to her mother, "Do you want to know about us?"

Cassandra certainly wanted to know.

After learning about the wedding, she secretly bought a newspaper and stared at the illustrations of her daughter's wedding dress for an entire afternoon.

But "wanting to know" and "daring to ask" are two different things.

"...If you'd like to say."

Eve smiled and said, "You've already seen the wedding scene in the newspaper, haven't you?"

"Hmm, four Witch Kings have come in person... quite a grand affair."

"That was Her Majesty Saint Pandora's doing," Eve said with a hint of helplessness.
"He insisted on using 'fantasy manifestation' to transform the entire sky of the venue into a dreamlike sea of ​​stars."

I originally planned to hold a small event, but more than three thousand people ended up attending.

“More than three thousand…” Cassandra silently calculated.

When she hosted the Conquest exhibition, the Hall of Stars only had a capacity of slightly over two thousand people.

"What about the honeymoon?" she asked.

"We only went on our honeymoon for a week."

"A week?"

"There's nothing I can do, he's busy, and I'm busy too."

"The affairs of the Chaotic Blood World cannot be neglected, the academic work with the School Alliance must be followed up, and the daily operations of the Crown Clan must be maintained..."

Eve counted on her fingers: "Squeezing out a week is already the limit."

“Just for a week…” Cassandra frowned, somewhat annoyed. “So how have things been going for you two after your marriage?”

"What do you mean, how about it?" Eve asked knowingly.

“Just everyday things,” Cassandra tried to make it sound like a casual question. “Is he good to you?”

As soon as the question left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous she had been.

What right does a mother who has been absent for seventy years have to ask such questions after her daughter has married and settled down?
But her daughter did not laugh at her.

"My mentor is very good to me," the black-haired princess said firmly. "Not in an earth-shattering way, but in a way that..."

She thought for a moment to choose her words: "It's the kind of good that you never need to worry about."

“He never forgets any little thing that was mentioned casually, even if it's just something like ‘this shop has good desserts.’ The next time we meet, he’ll just happen to ‘pass by’ and bring it back for me.”

As Eve spoke, her pace unconsciously slowed down.

“When he was working, I would occasionally go to his study to find him.”

Sometimes I don't say anything, I just sit on the sofa next to you reading or dealing with clan documents.

He didn't say anything, he just sat there writing his paper or flipping through his lab reports.

"The two were in the same room, each doing their own thing, occasionally glancing at each other."

"……that's all."

She turned to look at Cassandra, her eyes serene and content:

"This is probably what I've always wanted. It doesn't have to be dramatic, just knowing that when you turn around, someone will always be there waiting for you."

"That sounds... really good."

The woman's voice was a little hoarse, but she tried her best to keep it steady.

Eve keenly sensed the subtle change in her mother's emotions, thought for a moment, and decided to change the subject:
"So, how exactly were you doing with Mrs. Allen?"

"It's very simple."

Cassandra's pace slowed unconsciously, and her voice carried a touch of wistfulness characteristic of those reminiscing.

"In the morning, we process the medicinal herbs: sorting, washing, drying, and grinding."

"In the afternoon, I'll help greet guests or clean the herbal medicine shop."

"Watering the flowers in the evening."

When she talked about watering the flowers in the evening, her speech slowed down noticeably.

"My senior's backyard is planted with a lot of things, mostly medicinal plants, but some are just for decoration."

"She planted a rare 'Lily of the Valley' in the corner, which is said to be a seed that the professor brought back from some other world."

Eve listened quietly.

"One evening, while I was watering the lilies of the valley, my senior moved a chair and sat on the veranda watching me."

She suddenly asked me, "Have you ever kept any living creatures as pets before?"

I said, "I once raised a civilized person."

The black-haired princess paused for a moment.

"The senior student looked quite helpless at the time." Cassandra lowered her eyes slightly.
She said, "Growing a plant is different from growing a flower. A plant can grow on its own, but a flower can't; if you don't water it, it will die."

"He also said some things that I still remember to this day."

As she said this, the woman unconsciously mimicked her senior's critical tone:

“'Cassandra, do you know why I go to so much trouble to grow flowers even though I live alone?'”

"'Because flowers die.'"

“'Because it will die, you have to go see it and take care of it every day.'”

"There are no shortcuts, no magic can substitute for it, and it cannot be delegated to others."

"This is also what it means to be alive, to have something that you need to take care of every day."

Not because it's useful, nor because it brings you any benefit.

"'Simply because...if you don't go, it won't be available anymore.'"

The wind in the forest brushed against their faces.

Eve looked at her mother beside her.

Cassandra wasn't looking at her at that moment; her gaze was fixed on the wild evening primroses by the roadside.

The evening primrose has not yet bloomed.

Only when night falls and the moonlight shines down will those tightly closed flower buds open.

During the day, they stand there quietly, their leaf edges smooth and inconspicuous.

If you don't crouch down and look closely, you might even mistake them for roadside weeds.

The flower language of evening primrose is recorded in ancient herbal classics as 'silent love'.

Caroline had walked over to the side at some point and added softly:

"Because it only blooms under the moonlight, its flowering period is extremely short, and it withers at dawn."

Therefore, half-elf poets say it symbolizes those unseen, yet ever-present emotions.

Her gaze shifted to Cassandra, and her voice softened:

"The meaning of the Night Whisper Flower is 'a forgotten confession'."

Because its petals only bloom in extreme darkness, as if whispering to someone who is all alone.

It was only then that Cassandra noticed the maid who had been silently following behind the two of them, and it took her a while to remember who she was.

People often confuse these two flowers.

The chestnut-haired maid smiled gently: "Sometimes I think it's not just because they look alike."

………………

As we emerged from the oak forest, the teleportation platform was already faintly visible in the distance.

Eve was about to step onto the platform when Cassandra suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" She turned her head.

"Can I...go back to get something?"

"what?"

Cassandra's expression was somewhat unnatural:

"I kept a notebook on the bedside table in the storage room."

It contained all the medicinal herb knowledge I had learned over the years, and my senior said the notebook was "decently legible."

She thought for a moment, then added:
"In addition, there is an unfinished letter under the pillow."

"To whom was it written?"

"Of course it's for you, um... and I also have a few words to pass on to that kid."

Cassandra lowered her gaze: "I've been writing for over two years, and I still don't know how to end it."

A breeze blew from the depths of the forest, ruffling the black hair of the mother and daughter.

Eve didn't say anything more and let go of her mother's hand.

"Go get it, we'll wait for you here."

Cassandra turned and hurried back, her hasty steps startling the little lizard that was passing by.

Eve stood on the forest path, watching her mother's retreating figure.

That figure was still thin, bearing the weariness of years.

She had already taken off her apron, but the lingering herbal scent on her clothes would probably stay with her for a very long time.

"Your Highness."

Caroline walked quietly to her side, hesitated for a moment, and then asked the question that had been bothering her:
“Aren’t you worried? The Tower Master… no, Ms. Cassandra is, after all…”

"Was he once the most powerful wizard of his time?" Eve finished the sentence for her.

“Yes.” Caroline carefully chose her words:
"She used to be so powerful, so... terrifying."

Even though her strength has waned, her mind, her skills, her understanding of power… these things won't disappear just because of a few years of work.

Eve was silent for a moment.

"you're right."

"She won't become a completely different person; that kind of transformative story only exists in old-fashioned legendary novels."

Her gaze returned to the distance.

"But she will remember the difference between evening primrose and night-blooming jasmine."

"That's enough."

As the door of the herbal medicine shop opened again, Cassandra, now dressed, came out.

She held a thick notebook with a worn cover in her left hand and an envelope in her right.

The envelope had been folded several times, and the edges were curled up, indicating that it had been repeatedly pressed under the pillow for a long time.

On the second floor of the herbal medicine shop, a figure was quietly observing everything.

Mrs. Allen stood by the window, holding a cup of tea that had gone completely cold.

After Cassandra left, she went to the storeroom.

The spare bed was still in its original place, the sheets neatly folded, just as she had been taught to do.

On the bedside table sat a rough ceramic vase, containing a few withered, unidentified wildflowers.

The old woman reached out and took the withered flower out, examining it in her hand for a moment.

"Even her taste in flower arranging is so terrible."

She muttered something and threw the withered flower into the trash can.

Then, she put the vase back in its place and put a bunch of fresh evening primroses inside.

The leaf edges are smooth, so no one will get confused anymore. (End of Chapter)