I made up magic and taught a world-destroying witch?

But Mia's expression was so serious that he was embarrassed to admit that he hadn't actually thought that much about it.

"I won't rush to hammer it tomorrow; I'll stabilize the furnace temperature first!"

Grace's pen moved swiftly.

"Taylorian interpretation: The spell slot warm-up phase is similar to the furnace warming up before forging."

Joseph watched her write that line, and his eyelids twitched slightly.

Taylorism?

This thing even has a name?

If things continue like this, Mia will eventually develop a complete "Blacksmith Spell Slot Construction Method," which Grace will then compile into a thesis, and finally sign her name to thank her mentor.

Joseph suddenly felt that the future was bleak.

Mia, however, was completely oblivious to her husband's inner exhaustion.

She was already agitated by the idea of ​​a warm furnace.

"Sir, may I show it to you first after I've practiced it tomorrow?"

Grace immediately looked up.

She spoke with a polite smile and a gentle voice:

"Miss Taylor, the gentleman just said to slow down, not to rush ahead."

Mia was taken aback.

"I didn't rush ahead; I just wanted to show you if I had practiced correctly."

"If you're in a rush to get your husband's confirmation for every little bit of progress, then it means you haven't truly understood the meaning of stability."

Grace spoke calmly, but Mia keenly sensed a different meaning in her words.

This person came again, ostensibly talking about cultivation, but actually criticizing her for being impetuous, impatient, and unworthy of such profound teachings from the teacher.

Mia was immediately indignant.

"Then don't bring your laptop tomorrow."

Grace's smile remained unchanged.

"The notes were taken to organize the teacher's thoughts."

"I thought it was to get your husband to praise your writing."

Grace's eye twitched slightly.

"Miss Taylor, I don't need to use my handwriting to gain your approval."

"Oh, then why did you draw that asterisk twice?"

"That's a key mark."

"I saw you glance at the gentleman after you finished drawing."

  [At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name: 101𝖐𝖐𝖘.𝖈𝖔𝖒]

"That's to confirm if the gentleman has any further explanation."

"Did you add anything, sir?"

"The gentleman's silence itself can also be a hint."

Mia stared at her in shock.

"You can even take notes when the master isn't speaking?"

Grace said calmly:

"A true student should understand the deeper meaning behind the teacher's words."

Mia opened her mouth. She thought the statement was impressive, but something about it felt off.

After thinking for a long time, she could only manage to say, "Then I'll bring a notebook tomorrow too."

Grace glanced at her.

"Can you write?"

"Grace!"

Joseph stood to the side, watching the two students chatter away, and felt as if he were hearing two energetic little birds chirping in his ears.

It's good to be young; you can still argue after dinner. Unlike him, all he wants to do now is lie in bed, bury himself in it, and sleep.

These two are wasting his rest time.

Joseph coughed softly, and the two girls stopped at the same time.

Mia remained with her hands on her hips, while Grace had already resumed her standard dignified smile, as if she wasn't the one who had just been arguing with Mia.

"Disagreements are fine, but don't let them interfere with your practice."

Grace immediately lowered her head.

"Yes, sir."

Mia nodded obediently.

"Understood, sir."

Joseph looked at them and felt he could finally close for the day.

"You will all practice on your own tomorrow morning."

He paused, then emphasized earnestly:

"No rushing, no comparing progress, and no coming to me the moment you feel something."

Mia was about to speak when Joseph glanced at her.

"Especially you."

Mia swallowed her words and gave a pitiful "oh".

Grace's lips seemed to curl up almost imperceptibly.

Joseph looked at her again.

"You can take notes, but don't turn every thought into a problem."

Grace stopped writing, paused for a moment, and nodded seriously.

"I understand, sir. The issue needs time to settle."

Joseph: "..."

That's not what he meant, but whatever, whatever.

As long as no one knocks on his door tomorrow morning, he can let things settle down however they may.

Joseph raised his hand and pushed open the door of the experimental tower.

The lights inside the tower slowly illuminated as the door hinges turned, and the magic crystal lamps on the walls emitted a soft white glow. The faint sweet aroma of afternoon tea lingered in the reception room, and the square pattern on the whiteboard remained quietly in place.

It's this square, a square he just drew on a whim.

It's now rapidly evolving into a new magical education system, a Taylorist understanding, and the theory of spell furnaces.

Joseph looked at the whiteboard and suddenly felt a strong urge to erase it.

But he held back, and after wiping it away, Grace might have interpreted it as "the gentleman believes that we should no longer rely on external graphics, but should complete the real construction in our minds."

Mia might interpret this as "The gentleman is asking us to draw a thicker frame ourselves."

Then things will only get more complicated.

"You can go back now."

Joseph said, "You've practiced long enough today, get some rest."

Grace closed her notebook and bowed to him.

Good night, sir.

Mia followed her example and gave a somewhat awkward bow.

"Good night, sir! I'll make sure to warm the furnace properly tomorrow!"

Joseph nodded.

"Good night."

Two students walked along the streetlights toward the dormitory area.

As Mia walked, she continued arguing with Grace about whether it was okay to tap the furnace a couple of times when warming it up. Grace calmly told her, "If you can't resist the urge to tap it a couple of times, it means you don't really understand how to warm up a furnace."

Their voices gradually faded away, and finally, silence fell in front of the experimental tower.

Joseph stood at the doorway, and only after confirming that the two students had completely disappeared around the corner did the composure on his face gradually ease.

He let out a long breath.

I'm so tired, so very tired. Why is being a great mage so exhausting?

He clearly just wanted to scam some funding, eat some good food, sleep in late, get the money out of the bank, and then retire.

Joseph rubbed his temples, quickly returned to the top-floor lounge, took off his robe, and collapsed onto the bed.

What about spell slots, furnace warming, and personal rhythm? We'll talk about all of that tomorrow.

No, it's best not to say anything tomorrow either.

Joseph rolled over and pulled the blanket over himself.

As Mia approached her dormitory, she glanced at Joseph's laboratory tower in the distance and whispered:

Grace.

Grace looked at her; this was the first time Mia had called her without her full name.

"What's wrong?"

Mia asked earnestly:

"Do you think the gentleman is deliberately preventing us from seeing him tomorrow because he knows we've always been too hasty?"

Grace paused for a moment, then looked up at the twilight vines that were slowly glowing on the experimental tower.

"Yes," she said softly.

"The gentleman is not just teaching us to slow down. He is teaching us to keep moving forward steadily even after we are out of his sight."

Mia didn't quite understand, but she thought the sentence was very powerful, so she nodded vigorously.

"Then I'll definitely warm the stove properly tomorrow."