""Very good, Brown.

You are worthy of being my son.

Your father memorized this book very quickly and well."

Mr. Fry praised without blushing. He did not feel embarrassed for lying at all.

He was afraid that his son would be proud and complacent.

How could he say that he was lying?

This is called a good intention.

Brown secretly sighed

"As expected, I am still too useless.

My father, such a scumbag potion master, can recite at the same speed as me.

I have the bonus of talent.

How useless is this original body."

Immediately said respectfully:

""Father, I will work hard.

I will try to memorize this book before this month!"

Mr. Fry was drinking his tea leisurely.

He was impressed by his son's talent.

He almost spit out his tea when he heard Browne's words.

Listen, listen.

Memorize it before this month.

Is this human talk? It took me half a year!

And I was stumbling all the way.

""Dad, what's wrong with you?"

Brown asked with concern.

Mr. Foley wiped his mouth.

"It's nothing, the tea is a little hot.

But, son.

I think we should combine work and rest when doing anything, right?

One month, right?……"

Before Mr. Foley finished speaking, he saw that Brown felt a little guilty.

Then he exuded fighting spirit and said:

"That's right, Father!

One month is too long!

How could I be so depraved?

I want to memorize this book in one week!"

"Cough cough cough……"

"Dad, what's wrong with you?"

""Nothing, nothing.

I'm so happy!

I'm glad you want to work hard.

Okay, go back.

Study hard."

Mr. Fry waved his hand weakly.

What he wanted to say was that one month was too short. Just memorize it slowly, there's no rush.

Who would have thought that this silly boy would misunderstand what he meant.

One week?

So bragging doesn't pay taxes.

Then he began to doubt himself again.

"Am I really such a loser?"

Thinking of when my father taught me, he once said that he awakened magic at the age of three, learned to read at the age of four and began to learn all kinds of common sense. He learned potion knowledge at the age of five.

He succeeded in refining potions at the age of six.

He could make all kinds of potions at the age of seven...

Mr. Fly used to think that his father was bragging to him.

But now think about it carefully.

Could it be true?

Dad didn't lie to him, but he was really too useless?

Brown, who had just left the house, didn't know that his father had fallen into deep self-doubt because of his words.

At this moment, he returned to the bedroom with high morale and began his own recitation.

In his opinion, those potion masters must be geniuses who can memorize a book in a few days.

Just like Hermione.

She is called Miss Know-It-All.

She even borrowed a time simulator for learning.

This is simply a king of recitation.

He has no advantage over such a person.

But what he didn't know was that even a king of recitation like Hermione didn't have the ability to memorize a ten-centimeter-thick book within a week.

Not to mention that this is a magic book that will affect the mind.

But he didn't know.

So such a beautiful misunderstanding was created.

"Poison hemlock, from which poison hemlock essence can be extracted...it is the main material for making shrinking potions and fox killers"

"Horseradish, a perennial upright herb of the cruciferous family, is native to eastern Europe and has been cultivated for more than 2,000 years.

It is often used after being ground, and is one of the ingredients for making laughter potions and philandering potions."

"I didn't expect horseradish to be useful in this way."

Braun said with some surprise.

Then he continued to recite.

"Flowing grass……"

"……"

"Cuckoo, Cuckoo……"

A chirping bird pops up from the clock hanging on the wall

"It's twelve o'clock?"

"Gurgle……"

Brown touched his bulging stomach and put down his book.

He stood up and stretched.

He had been sitting still for the whole morning. His hands and feet seemed a little stiff.

""Knock, knock!"

There was a knock on the door.

"Young Master, do you plan to eat lunch in the dining room or in the bedroom today?"

Dom's voice was sharp and thin.

Braun hesitated.

"I'll go downstairs to eat. Are mom and dad gone again?"

Braun learned from his original body's memory that generally speaking, whenever Dom asked him where to eat, his parents would not be home.

His father usually went to check on his dragon farm or greenhouse.

Sometimes he would go to the shops in Diagon Alley.

His mother was much simpler. She would go shopping.

She would go shopping with three or two familiar witches.

Then she would do her maintenance and watch a play.

"Yes, Master. The Master and the Madam are out busy."

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