Chapter 665: Chaos
“Scroll” moved quickly through the exam papers and wrote the final tally at the top of Maggie’s sheet.
The total was missing a hundred points.
“So… the problem is with Maggie?” Nana tilted her head.
Mystery Moon’s shoulders fell. “And here I thought Scroll had given her extra marks in exchange for honey grilled meat—”
Lily’s hand met the back of Mystery Moon’s head. “Quiet.”
“Should we keep watching?” Summer asked quietly. “We should leave before someone discovers us.”
“Just another moment,” Candle said. “It’s possible the error happened when the scores were copied over.”
“I don’t think so.” Evelyn shook her head. His Majesty’s number system used simple, distinct strokes for each digit—precise enough that confusing 17 and 117 was nearly impossible in normal circumstances.
“I think it was Maggie who flew in through the window, wearing jerky—just stop!” Mystery Moon covered her head. “I’m not saying anything.”
They watched as Scroll checked the remaining papers and transferred all the marks to a summary form. Maggie’s column held at 17.
“The error wasn’t Scroll’s,” Candle said, relieved.
“Can we go now?” Summer’s voice had developed a quality of quiet desperation.
Evelyn was about to answer when the illusion-Scroll looked sharply toward the doorway. All six of them followed her gaze. An apprentice stood there, evidently having knocked.
“What are they saying?” Mystery Moon asked.
The illusion carried no sound; they could only read lips and posture. The exchange seemed to be: Lord Scroll, Director Barov is asking for you. Scroll nodded, set down her pen, and followed the apprentice out.
The door closed.
A beat of silence—and then, perhaps drawn by the change in air pressure, the window swung open. Not wide; just a crack. But enough.
The autumn wind moved through it.
Papers lifted from the desk and scattered—a loose, unhurried cascade across the floor. The window swung further. Another gust. The pen-holder tipped, and the quill resting in the ink bottle rose on the draft in a long, slow arc.
“The window,” Lily said quietly.
It came down tip-first onto Maggie’s exam paper.
The nib dragged through the wet ink remaining on its point and left a single stroke—beginning just before the 1, ending just after the 7—converting the score into something that, to any subsequent reader, would read plainly as 117.
A minute later, another apprentice appeared in the doorway, roused by whatever sound the slamming window had made. She entered, assessed the situation, shut the windows firmly, gathered the scattered papers from the floor, stacked them in neat order on the desk, and departed, satisfied that everything was in its proper place.
“Was that what happened?” Evelyn and Candle looked at each other.
Not Scroll’s copying error. Not Maggie’s deception. An autumn wind, an unlatched window, a quill hovering above an open ink bottle, and a door opened at exactly the wrong moment.
She could reconstruct the rest without difficulty. Scroll had received His Majesty’s orders to depart for Longsong Stronghold and had passed the summary sheet to Wendy. Wendy, not having marked the exams herself, would have had no reason to question a score that was already on the form—and even if Maggie’s performance seemed improbable, she would not second-guess Scroll’s judgment.
“Under the tireless investigation of Mystery Moon,” Mystery Moon announced, chin up, “the truth is revealed. The culprit is—Teacher Scroll. For not closing the window.”
“It was the wind.”
“But if Scroll had shut the window tightly, none of this would have happened. The logic is—”
“The logic is that you’re making things up!”
“Actually,” Nana said, tone thoughtful, “if we trace it further, it’s His Majesty Roland’s fault. He built City Hall here and added two stories. Without that extra story, Scroll would never have been marking papers in this room.”
Silence.
“So the culprit is… His Majesty Roland?”
“Enough, all of you.”
Summer had gone slightly pale. “Can I stop now?”
“Yes.” Evelyn put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. That’s enough. Let’s go.”
Mystery Moon planted herself in front of the exit. “Shouldn’t we look for the next exam? Maybe it’s in here—”
Lily advanced. The argument lasted approximately four seconds.
The investigation dissolved into noise, and then it was over.
Evelyn walked back to the Witch Building alone.
The truth had emerged cleanly enough: not Scroll’s fault, not Maggie’s lie. An accident. A coincidence stacked on a coincidence stacked on another coincidence, each one meaningless in isolation, all of them together producing a result as precise as deliberate design.
She couldn’t stop seeing the quill rise.
It kept returning—the arc of it through the still air of the office, the tip dropping at exactly the right angle onto exactly the right square of paper. All of it unconscious. The paper, the pen, the airflow through a closing door, the time the apprentice chose to re-enter—remove any single element and the score remained 17.
Every element had been chaotic.
The result had been exact.
She thought about the drinks she made—the way a good combination emerged not from intention but from collision, from the particular way these molecules struck those ones in that proportion at that temperature. Sometimes chance landed on something that deliberate effort would never have found. Roland had mentioned the microscopic balls once, in passing—molecules, he’d called them, moving in constant, disorderly disturbance through any substance. Each motion meaningless. The aggregate of all of them: flavor, warmth, everything that made a drink itself.
The world is full of chaos. But the results are hidden inside it. As if it were all meant to be.
She opened her eyes. Reached for the cup of water on the table beside her bed.
Color spread through it slowly—reddish orange, warm as afternoon light. A fragrance lifted that she had no name for, something she’d never smelled before and couldn’t compare to anything in her memory.
She hesitated, then touched the liquid to her lips.
Sweetness met her tongue—complex, layered: bitter underneath, mellow beneath that, some quality further down that resisted any category she already had. Not juice. Not milk. Not tea, not honey—some country that lay between all of them and was also none of them.
She held it in her mouth and tried to describe it.
She couldn’t.
But she was certain of one thing: whatever this was, it was not wine.
Chapter 665: Chaos
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
“Scroll” quickly scanned through the entire examination paper, then wrote down at the front of the paper the total score of the three subjects: 17.
The result was missing an entire 100 points.
“Well… so the problem lay with Maggie?” Nana tilted her head.
“So, that’s the result?” Mystery Moon was greatly disappointed. “So it wasn’t Scroll who purposely gave a high score to Maggie in exchange for honey grilled meat—oh!”
Lily slapped the back of Mystery Moon’s head, “Shut up!”
“Should we continue to watch?” Summer asked timidly. “We should leave as soon as possible so that we won’t get ourselves found out.”
“Let’s wait for a second,” said Candle. “Perhaps something went wrong when it was copied.”
“There’s no need. I already know the result so it’s fine…” Evelyn shook her head. If it were the original method of writing, it would indeed be possible to confuse the figures in a compact arrangement. However, in the universal education popularized by His Majesty Roland, the figures were replaced by simple, easy-to-remember single strokes, so the chances of committing mistakes were very slim.
“I think it was Maggie who flew in from the window, making the jerky— stop!” Mystery Moon covered her head, “Don’t do it. I will stop talking.”
They saw “Scroll” check all the papers and begin to copy the scores onto a form. Maggie’s column still reflected a score of 17 points.
“The problem really didn’t lie with Teacher Scroll,” said Candle relievedly.
“Can we go now?” Summer said anxiously.
Evelyn was about to reply, but “Scroll” suddenly stood up and looked toward the doorway. Six people immediately followed her gaze, then they noticed that the door was opened and a town hall apprentice appeared in the doorway.
“What are they talking about?” asked Mystery Moon.
There was no sound in the illusion, so they could only judge the conversation between the two by lip reading.
“It appeared to be Lord Scroll… His Excellency Barov… is sending for you?”
Then “Scroll” nodded, and followed the apprentice out of the office.
The moment the door closed, perhaps because of the air current, a cold wind suddenly picked up within the room. All the papers were blown and scattered messily all over the floor.
“Ah… the window,” Lily mumbled.
Evelyn saw it too—the window that was previously closed was now open with a small gap. Scroll did not shut the window tight, and hence the open door generated an air current that forced the window to open. The autumn wind outdoors caused the window to swing back and forth, and open wider and wider. It was not long before a strong wind severely smashed it back to the window frame. Although the sound could not be heard, one could imagine the strong impact from the glass tremor.
Something unexpected happened.
An air current swept through the office again and caused the pen holder to fall on the desktop. The quill that was in the ink bottle suddenly flew up and landed exactly on that exam sheet.
After crossing an arc in mid-air, the tip of the pen dropped on the table, leaving a stroke on Maggie’s column and turning the original 17 into a threedigit 117.
Probably someone heard the loud noise coming out of the office, so the door was pushed open again. That apprentice reappeared to have a quick look around, and then came in astonishedly.
She went to the window, shut all the windows tight, and then crouched to clean up the office for Scroll.
She did not leave until she was satisfied that all the documents had been reorganized and neatly placed on the desk.
“Was this what had happened?” Evelyn and Candle looked at each other.
It was neither Scroll’s error in copying the marks nor Maggie’s intention to lie but an accident caused by the unexpected wind?
Evelyn was then able to guess what happened next. Scroll received the order of His Majesty to make a trip to Longsong, so she passed the score sheet to Wendy. Wendy was not the person in charge of marking the exams, and even if she was puzzled by Maggie’s performance, she would not question Scroll’s judgment.
“Ha, under the insistence of Mystery Moon, the truth has finally been revealed,” Mystery Moon looked up and said, “the culprit was… Teacher Scroll!”
“It was the wind!” Lily gritted her teeth.
“But if Scroll had closed the window tightly, the wind would not have been able to blow the tests, nor the quill, right?”
“How could you say this!”
“No,” Nana said thoughtfully, “in that case, it would have been His Majesty Roland’s fault. He built the City Hall here, and not only did he expand it, he also built two more stories. Without this additional second story, Scroll would not be able to mark the papers here.”
“Uh… you’re right, so the culprit was—His Majesty Roland?”
“Enough, all of you!”
“Excuse me… can I stop now?” Summer seemed like she was about to burst into tears.
“Sorry, that’s enough,” said Evelyn patting her shoulder. “Thank you, let’s go.”
“Hey, should we just leave like that? Maybe we can find the next quiz in the office?” Mystery Moon stood in front of everyone to stop them.
“This was the real reason you wanted to come here!” Lily rushed forward, “I will never let you make trouble!”
“I, I was just kidding!”
…
The investigation ended in a farce. After bidding farewell to Candle, Evelyn returned to the Witch Building alone.
Although the truth had come to light, her mood was not calm at all.
Somehow, the flying paper and the falling quill continued to emerge in her mind—both actions were erratic and yet at the last minute formed ingenious and perfect results.
The paper, the pen, the airflow caused by the door, and the time when the apprentice went in and out, all led to this result. Without any one of these conditions, the change of the score could not be achieved.
However, these conditions were unconscious and chaotic.
In that case, this could also be applied to mixing cocktails.
A variety of ingredients are added to the alcohol, but you can’t taste each and every ingredient. They are fused in the liquid and affect each other, creating a new taste that can be accepted by people after numerous attempts. Sometimes, a rare combination that happens by chance could also create those unique tastes.
Evelyn could not help but think of the microscopic balls that His Majesty Roland mentioned —they continually make disorderly disturbances, each of which seemed irrelevant yet could portray marvelous traits.
She closed her eyes and felt that something in her heart was ready to burst out.
The world was full of chaos.
But the results were hidden in the chaos.
As if it were all meant to be.
Evelyn forced her eyes open and reached for the cup on the table.
Ripples appeared in the cold water, and then the color changed as if a drop of paint fell on them. The water gradually turned into a reddish orange, and a fragrance she had never smelled before drifted into her nose.
She hesitated for a moment, then started licking the liquid.
An indescribable sweetness suddenly covered her tongue—slightly bitter, with a strong mellow flavor, that was unmatched by any type of drink.
It was not only like a mixture of fruit juice and milk but also like a mixture of tea and honey. Evelyn could not accurately describe the flavor, but she was sure of one thing.
This was definitely not wine.