In the blink of an eye, March had passed and April arrived. The warm spring breezes had completely blown away the last traces of cold, and the weather was beginning to shift toward the heat of summer.
The progress of adapting the core magic books was proceeding exactly as Lewis had anticipated. The adaptations for Magizoology, Herbology, Potions, and Alchemy were far simpler than the other subjects—Lewis had completed all that work in just one week.
However, when it came to recording Arcane magic, Lewis ran into difficulties. Because what he needed to do wasn't simply documenting the Arcane spells he already knew.
He also needed to ensure that readers could self-study and master those spells based on the book's contents. And that was the tricky part.
This touched on the realm of pedagogy—it wasn't just about knowing a few spells. He had to reference various textbooks and, in the most concise and clear manner, explain the casting techniques, key points, and common mistakes for each Arcane spell in simple yet profound terms.
This tested not only his magical foundation but also his teaching abilities as an author.
Fortunately, Lewis had accumulated extensive teaching experience in the Scholarly Society, so this task didn't stump him.
Even with his exceptional cognitive abilities and the assistance of [Scribing Spell], he still had to expend a great deal of energy on this every day.
But this still significantly increased Lewis's workload.
Especially since the Arcanist profession automatically granted mastery of all core spells upon leveling up, and the spells under the Arcane magic system—even just the core spells—were numerous and complex.
In contrast, the world of Harry Potter was far simpler.
Miranda Goshawk's *Standard Book of Spells* contained fewer than ten spells per volume. From first year to seventh year, students needed to master only about sixty-odd spells in total. And Lewis's own *Book of Spells* contained only around a hundred incantations.
That was roughly the number of spells contemporary wizards knew.
But what about Arcane magic?
Just for 1st-circle spells alone, Lewis had to record over a hundred. If he were to document every spell he knew, from 1st-circle to 7th-circle, the total would number at least a thousand—more than all the spells in the modern wizarding world combined.
Lewis's dream of compiling the *Book of Ten Thousand Spells* was clearly a long and arduous journey ahead.
After recording the last 1st-circle Divination spell, Lewis finally finished the morning's work. He hastily ate a simple lunch, then dragged his exhausted mind through the afternoon's Charms class.
Even with his head feeling groggy and heavy, it didn't stop him from successfully casting the [Cheering Charm] at the fastest speed, drawing a genuine, heartfelt smile from Steve in front of him.
He remembered that he had classified the [Cheering Charm] under Emotion-Control spells, with only 1st-circle. But for most young wizards, this spell wasn't easy to cast.
Many young wizards were trying hard to cooperate with their partners, but a fake smile and a genuine smile were worlds apart. For instance, Anthony, who was partnered with Padma Patil, overacted and let out a hysterical laugh.
Then, after a short stroll to clear his head, class ended. As soon as it was over, Lewis rushed back to his dormitory and collapsed into his soft bed. He planned to take a short nap before dinner to recharge.
His extreme exhaustion sent him into sleep the moment his head touched the pillow. Without needing to think, Lewis knew he had definitely missed dinner.
When he opened his eyes again, it was pitch black outside. Damn it—his beloved owl had clearly forgotten to wake him.
He didn't want to waste time trekking to the kitchen and waiting for the house-elves to work their magic.
So he directly cast [Mansion Spell] and returned to the tower. After imprinting the Mark of Wisdom on Giana, Tonks, and Onyxia, he had made it convenient for them—they often left behind plenty of snacks, pastries, and drinks in the tower.
The tower had become a regular stopping point for them. With luck, he might even find some leftover meals they'd prepared.
As soon as he entered the tower, Lewis caught the aroma of food.
His eyes landed on the dishes laid out on the hall's dining table: fruit punch, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, twice-cooked pork, stir-fried three vegetables, braised spare ribs, and—oh—even mapo tofu! A whole table of Chinese cuisine.
Lewis rubbed his eyes, thinking he had somehow returned to his home in his previous life.
Tonks only knew how to make British and French dishes. Giana and Onyxia specialized in Azerothian cuisine—but they definitely didn't know anything about Pandaren cooking.
So there was only one person who could have prepared this table of Chinese food.
Lewis turned his head. Sitting gracefully on the sofa was a slender, beautiful girl with delicate Eastern features and long black hair, looking at him with a smile.
It was Cho Chang!
"Lewis, I didn't see you in the Great Hall earlier, so I guessed you'd missed dinner. Looks like I was right."
Cho's cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes sparkling with joy.
"Did you prepare all this?" Lewis asked with a smile.
"Yes... yes. Hogwarts' dishes are mainly French, Italian, and British—there's never any Chinese food. I thought you might like a taste of home, so I learned a lot from my mother over the summer."
The girl's fair, slender fingers fidgeted together.
Lewis was deeply moved. Her spread of dishes had truly struck the softest part of his heart.
He immediately rushed to the table and devoured everything in sight. The girl sat beside him the entire time, one hand cupping her cheek, smiling happily as she watched him wolf down the food, occasionally taking a small bite herself.
Every ravenous mouthful from Lewis was the best reward for her efforts.
"Cho!" Lewis suddenly looked up and set down his utensils.
Cho tilted her head in confusion, looking at him. Her silky black hair slid from her temple, a rather beautiful sight.
"You have a little... here." Lewis pointed at the corner of his own mouth.
The girl extended her slender fingers and, following Lewis's gesture, lightly dabbed at her own mouth.
"Hmm, a little more to the left." Lewis seriously pointed out that she had missed the spot.
Cho suddenly rose and moved closer to Lewis, sitting down beside him. She grabbed Lewis's finger and pressed it against her own cheek. "Is it here?"
Lewis's fingertip could clearly feel the delicate, soft skin. He couldn't help but take a long, deep breath.
He understood her meaning and felt his restraint crumbling.
Since that was the case, he would follow his desires.
"Never mind. With you being so clumsy, I'll just have to clean it up myself."
With that, he cupped the girl's face in both hands and personally ate away that grain of rice.
He still remembered that ancient poem: "Who knows that every grain on the plate comes from hard toil."
As a Chinese man, Lewis hated wasting food the most.
And coincidentally, Cho was the same kind of person.
So for the second half of dinner, the two of them ate while taking turns cleaning stray food from each other's mouths, cheeks, necks, and elsewhere—turning the meal into nothing short of a human banquet.
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