My older sister is a villainous rich girl.

Although the hot pot was simmering vigorously, the atmosphere around them was unusually cold, and only Wayne and Chris made any noise along the way.

This dinner was exceptionally delicious, leaving one feeling utterly devoid of flavor.

After dinner, Benjamin said goodbye.

"I'm really sorry, my unreasonable request has caused you all a lot of trouble," Benjamin said somewhat dejectedly.

"This box was left to me by my father," he said. "I think it must contain many things that Mr. Pokran once valued very much, and now it's finally back to its rightful owner."

Pokran was stunned when he saw the box.

That was his "treasure chest" from when he was a child.

But his legs seemed rooted to the spot, unable to take a single step.

Benjamin gave him one last deep look before turning around and boarding the carriage waiting at the courtyard gate.

The horse, which had just eaten its fodder, remained motionless.

The driver flicked the reins, and the horse snorted dismissively, clattering away on the flagstones.

After a while, Pokran walked over in a daze and opened it.

The thick dust settled, revealing the neatly stacked objects inside.

A homemade slingshot.

It was a birthday gift his father made by hand at his request.

A family portrait he painted.

The childlike handwriting depicted a large family, and the author even carefully added a note above each person's head in crooked handwriting...

With each item he took out, Pokran's expression became even more moved.

His lips trembled as he touched each and every piece of his past memories.

The time I spent with them is still vivid in my mind.

At the very bottom was a small blanket that had turned slightly yellow.

Pokran could no longer hold back, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Isn't our little one a good boy/girl?"

When he was little, his elderly grandmother would always say this while holding him in her arms.

No matter what trouble he caused, he was always unconditionally spoiled, and people believed that he would definitely become an outstanding young man in the future.

However, before he could grow into a young man, his grandmother passed away due to a serious illness.

He knelt on the ground and buried his face in the blanket.

He was enveloped in that familiar, warm embrace once again, and he couldn't help but sob.

A meter away, Wayne and Chris exchanged a glance, silently signaling their servants to move aside, leaving Pokran alone to vent his emotions.

……

"Sigh! It's not like I have no feelings, so why am I so conflicted?"

Chris idly flicked a weed she had plucked from somewhere.

"Perhaps it's because I care too much," Wayne said.

They walked along the paved bluestone slabs towards the backyard garden, taking a stroll after dinner to digest their food.

The Duke of Winchester's Palace covers a vast area; it would take almost half an hour to walk around the outer walls.

"The school fair is fast approaching, but we still haven't found the ideal materials," Chris said, distressed. "At this rate, we'll have to find other backup plans."

"That kind of sleep-aiding effect, which almost only exists in legends, sounds like magic, so it's normal that you can't find it."

"But isn't this a magical world?" Chris asked doubtfully. "Shouldn't there be some magical items with unique properties?"

"But this is also a world where the vast majority of ordinary people don't use magic at all."

Whether in the academy or in daily life, it seems that no one uses magic in public, which shows that the actual frequency of its use must be very low.

He even considered that in such a world, it might be possible to spread this message in areas with relatively limited communication:

Magic doesn't exist at all; it's just a colossal lie told by nobles in their quest to rule the world!

It will definitely attract a lot of believers.

This is what happened to Wayne's body. Because the branch family was located in such a remote place and the people were generally ignorant, the locals regarded a genius like him as a monster.

"That's true. Even someone as excellent as me can only summon small mounds of earth." Chris nodded in understanding.

"..."

Wayne was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Chris, what you really need is an entry that will leave a lasting impression on everyone and is extremely difficult to replicate, right?"

"Is that so?" Chris replied uncertainly.

"Then why not let Poppy move around?"

Chris stopped walking.

"How do I move?" she asked.

Wayne smiled.

He stretched his hand forward, closed his eyes, and began to meditate.

"Now comes the moment of miracle!" he shouted. "Come out, Bobby!"

Brownish-brown specks of light appeared out of thin air, gathering into a sphere in mid-air. Then, a golden line leaped out from the side, quickly shaping the sphere into a shape very much like a dog.

"How is it? Does it look like it?"

Bathed in the magical light, his eyes, which were looking at him, seemed to be sparkling.

Chris looked serious.

"Wayne...how come you also know this 'witnessing miracles' trick?"

Wayne's heart skipped a beat, and his body stiffened for a moment.

But he quickly relaxed and said casually, "I learned it from you. Didn't you say that the first time you made hot pot for me?"

"I can use magic to summon earth elemental dogs that resemble Poppy, and I can even summon corresponding monsters to fight on the spot. At most, their movements are a bit slow, but their size is definitely up to standard."

He changed the subject, saying, "We can make a more delicate jacket using just a little bit of other soft materials."

"Hmm." Chris seemed intrigued. "How long can your magic last?"

"If it's not meticulously detailed, it can last for at least an hour," Wayne estimated.

"Moreover, even if my magic runs out, I only need to rest for a while before I can continue. If I'm doing a solo performance, three or four shows a day is more than enough."

Wow—that's amazing!

Chris looked at the magically formed Bobby with her clear, bright eyes shining, her tone full of envy.

"Uh...theoretically, magic power can be increased through training."

"No! I've practiced for so long and haven't made any progress at all." She was a little discouraged.

Although she will still be the villainous heiress Chris after entering the main campus, her low magic power makes her very uneasy.

This means that no matter what dangerous situation she encounters, she can only rely on the protagonist's halo to turn misfortune into good fortune.

"Then, just stay by my side."

Chris suddenly looked up.

"Stay by my side, and my magic will be your magic," he said.

……

Seeing Chris suddenly blurt out, "Oh right! I haven't finished my homework yet!" and then flee in a panic, Wayne laughed speechlessly.

"Young Miss, being so innocent won't do," he murmured softly.

It's just that things haven't gotten on track yet. Once the story really unfolds, the thought of a bunch of reverse harem members frantically fawning over her every day is unbearable to even imagine.

Will this Chris really be the same as in the original story?