Saturday morning.
Professor Garcia got up as usual.
As a professor of Merfolk Common Tongue, he possessed an advantage unmatched by his colleagues—his merfolk identity—but because of that, he also had to bear pressures that professors of other foreign languages did not.
For instance, merfolk appearance, merfolk scent, and even hurtful questions from young wizards who meant no harm: "Can merfolk use magic too?"
Therefore, every day he taught at First University, Professor Garcia diligently made all kinds of preparations.
He rose early, polished his scales with colorful stones, then soaked in a medicinal bath to remove the distinctive fishy smell of merfolk. He applied Mysore essential oil to mask his scent, put on a heavy black robe, fastened brooches, cufflinks, and colorful badges, and did his best to make himself look like a proper wizard.
It had to be admitted that his efforts had greatly changed many young wizards' impressions of merfolk.
Today was Saturday. He originally had no classes and had no need for such cumbersome preparations, but Mr. Zhang from the library had invited him to translate an ancient Merfolk Language magic scroll. Since final exams were approaching and the library would be full of students, Professor Garcia had still made thorough preparations as usual.
Just as he had expected.
At first light, the road to the library was already filled with young wizards. Seeing the old professor slowly making his way beneath the tree-lined path with a cane, many students politely greeted him, and Professor Garcia returned every greeting.
Until a golden net appeared above the academy.
"Oh, heavens, heavens."
The old merfolk gripped his cane, raised his head to stare at the humming net in midair, and muttered meaningless words over and over. "Oh, heavens... Merlin above!"
Beside him, students in red robes rushed past