The Island of Returnees

The Liechtenstein royal family was like the prettiest girl at a ball. Every young man wanted to ask her to dance, but her heart already belonged to someone else. Trying their luck with her would only bring trouble upon themselves. The smart thing for the young men to do was figure out how to ask the second, third, and subsequent prettiest girls instead.

Unlike the Queen of England, whose spending, even on visits to the hairdresser, had to be made public for the entire nation to scrutinize, Pomona's invitation could only get her into the ball hosted by that Swedish marchioness once. How the Venetians would sneak into such gatherings of social elites to draw in Swiss bank clients afterward was not her problem.

Napoleon had said something right: there was a sleeping lion in the East. The Venetians were still asleep. If they lacked ambition, were content with the status quo, and refused to change, Venice would still sink.

If they wanted to save their city, they had to do it themselves. Pomona had taught quite a few students. Most of them were obsessed with Quidditch and other people's romantic scandals; they had no motivation to study at all. It was basically impossible to turn them into strong people.

Harry had been that kind of child too. He and Ron had enjoyed themselves at school, and fortunately Hermione loved reading. Yet he possessed a quality that bookworm Hermione lacked: he was not so bound by the rules.

Why couldn't the Chinese lead the Venetians in establishing a neutral state?

It was no longer like the Qing Dynasty, with the country shut off from the outside world. Besides, the Jews were not native-born Venetians either. Venice was itself a city of immigrants, and they held considerable influence within it.

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