Summer, Under the Moon, Damn Five Centimeters!

Before he could ponder Nicolas Flamel's riddle, Bing Huan was on his way to Hermione's house. They arrived at their destination around noon, and Mrs. Granger showed Bing Huan the results of her Chinese cooking practice during this time.

Since Christmas, the couple had fallen in love with Chinese food, and Bing Huan had even left them a Chinese cookbook before he departed.

In the afternoon, Bing Huan pulled Hermione to an open space in a small forest. He took out a Flying Sword and handed it to Hermione. "Here, the Flying Sword you've always wanted. I refined it myself."

"You really prepared it! Thank you~"

Hermione took the Flying Sword and swung it a few times towards the open space, but nothing happened... She turned to look at Bing Huan, pouting. "Why can't it cut out Sword Qi like Crimson Trail?"

"This is a Flying Sword for flying, not specifically for combat."

"There are ones just for flying?"

"Of course. Everyone's Destiny Weapon is different; it could be anything from sabers and spears to swords and halberds. My Crimson Trail is decent, but some people's Destiny Weapons are daggers or even gloves. How are they supposed to fly? And the direct flying method consumes a lot of energy.

Although there are things like Flying Boats and Spirit Beast Carriages, they are inconvenient and not something an ordinary family can afford."

The lesson began. It was clear that Flying Swords were different from flying broomsticks. At least Hermione had a special talent in this regard. For the first five minutes, she kept falling off the Flying Sword and was caught by Bing Huan, her face red. She quickly got the hang of it, and by dinnertime, she could already fly close to the ground.

That evening, Hermione sat next to Bing Huan, watching him carve their names onto the sword hilt. "Oh right, did you prepare Flying Swords for them too?"

"I did. They should be finished and delivered to Ron's house in the next few days."

"Finished?"

"Yeah, I commissioned an Artifact Refiner to craft theirs. Yours is the only one I made with my own hands."

"Hehe~"

Bing Huan glanced at Hermione. "What are you grinning about? You look like an idiot."

"None of your business!" Hermione hugged the sword with the carved names and skipped back to her room.

In the kitchen, the couple watched the two children interact with aunt-like smiles. As they were smiling, Mr. Granger suddenly realized, "Wait a minute, this is my daughter, isn't it?"

Mrs. Granger playfully slapped her husband's hand. "What are you doing! Don't interfere, they'll sort out their own matters."

"But they're too young."

"You have the nerve to say that when you were chasing me at eleven."

"I'm just afraid they're young and don't know any better."

"Oh, come on. Don't you just have that fatherly possessiveness? They haven't even held hands much yet, but it is indeed time to teach Hermione a few things."

At this moment, the person with excellent hearing regretted not carving the names in his room. Bing Huan, sitting in the living room, pretended to be calm and flipped through a book, his face turning as red as an apple.

But he couldn't move now, absolutely couldn't move! After a while, the couple came out. Seeing Bing Huan still reading, even though he hadn't taken in a single punctuation mark, they didn't dislike a child who loved to study.

After reminding Bing Huan to go to bed early, Mrs. Granger went to Hermione's room.

Mrs. Granger's talk seemed to cover a wide range of topics, and she didn't leave Hermione's room until late at night. The next day, the two children, no, the two young people, were woken up by the sun.

When they met at the dining table, both of them blushed and didn't speak. Seeing this, Mrs. Granger teased, "It seems like my lesson yesterday was too loud."

"Mom!"

"Mrs. Granger!"

"Hmm, very in sync."

"..."x2

For the rest of the day, the two of them sat there reading. It was Hermione who broke the silence, and they started chatting about the content of their books. However, they still blushed when facing each other.

After staying at Hermione's house for another two days, Bing Huan received news that his East Wind Express delivery had arrived. He wrote to Wood and Cedric, asking them to come to the Weasley house.

Hermione was helping Bing Huan pack his things and saw a Consignment Contract. She wondered why Bing Huan was bringing it along when he was just visiting. Bing Huan said it was a gift and put it away.

The next morning, Bing Huan and Hermione set off on their Flying Swords. Before leaving, Hermione arranged to meet her parents at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

Since it was Hermione's first time traveling, they didn't fly very fast and only reached The Burrow in the afternoon. It was a very unique house, strange, but not unpleasant.

Wood and Cedric had already arrived and were playing Family Edition Quidditch with the Twins and Ron. Mrs. Weasley warmly welcomed the two of them. The five boys who had been playing outside rushed in, each carrying a wooden box.

"Huan, you're finally here. By the way, what did you send us?" Fred asked, shaking the box.

"Didn't you open it to see?"

Cedric took a sip of water. "The box is sealed. We were afraid of damaging the contents, so we didn't force it open."

"Ummm, just pry open the edges, and you can pull out the top wooden piece."

After some fiddling, everyone finally understood the Chinese Packaging. Ron looked strangely at Percy, who hadn't made a move. "Percy, why aren't you opening yours?"

Percy continued reading his book. "Oh, I figured it out last night."

Wood looked at Percy. "Dude, I shared a room with you last night, why didn't you tell me!"

"I thought you guys knew."

"..."

The group took out their Flying Swords from the wooden boxes and ran outside to wave them around. The Twins were even more excited than a monkey returning to the mountain.

Mrs. Weasley came over to Bing Huan. "You've spent too much, child." Because her husband worked at the Ministry of Magic, she had some knowledge of the Cultivation World. Cultivation Products were definitely high-end items in the Wizarding World.

Bing Huan waved his hand, "It's fine, Madam. They're all artisans seeking refuge at my place, and they have monthly quotas. Plus, the materials can only be used for flying, so the cost isn't much. Speaking of which," he turned and took out a letter of entrustment from his bag.

"Mrs. Weasley, I actually do have something regarding money."

"What is it, child?" Mrs. Weasley asked, confused.

"You see, my family runs a Raw Material Supplier Farm. We have about ten percent of our daily groceries go unsold. This portion can only be sold at a low price to other intermediaries or even destroyed once it's no longer fresh, which is a huge waste.

Although it's only ten percent, that amount is enough to supply the cafeterias of large academies or other organizations. But as you know, I'm currently studying at Hogwarts. As a student, it's not appropriate for me to directly negotiate with the school, and I don't have any connections elsewhere. So, I can only ask a reliable elder like you to be my Agent."

"This..." Mrs. Weasley started to refuse.

Bing Huan immediately stood up and bowed, saying with a hint of tears, "Please! Madam, my family insists I handle these businesses, but I just want to focus on my studies!"

Hermione, as if by instinct, hugged Mrs. Weasley's arm with red eyes. "Please agree to us!" Mrs. Weasley, who always cared for children, especially her daughter, couldn't stand this.

"I agree! I agree! Sit down, child."

Bing Huan's demeanor shifted effortlessly. As soon as he sat down, he produced a Gringotts key. This was for a new account he had specifically opened at Gringotts earlier. "This is your agent fee for this year." After much back and forth, Mrs. Weasley only felt at ease accepting it when Bing Huan explained that the five thousand in the Vault also included transportation and preservation costs, leaving only about a thousand.

"Child, I really don't know how to thank you."

"You're helping me out too."

That evening, Mr. Weasley was specially notified to return, and everyone at The Burrow had a lively party. The Twins, who had always wanted to improve their family's financial situation, came over to Bing Huan.

"Thanks, brother."

He clinked glasses with them. "Come on, you guys know I don't want to deal with this. If I didn't fear you two wouldn't be capable, I would have approached you originally."

Upon hearing this, the two were displeased. "How dare you question our abilities, you brat. Just you wait, next semester we'll come up with something new for you."

"Alright~ If you can pull it off, I'll invest in your shop in the future."

"It's a deal" x2

"It's a deal."

After fooling around with the boys for a while, Bing Huan quietly snuck onto the roof of The Burrow—to Hermione's left. The two sat there again, just like that afternoon, not saying a word.

After an unknown amount of time, the bonfire below extinguished. Everyone had returned inside The Burrow. In the moonlight, a large patch of dark clouds could be seen slowly approaching, much like someone's mood.

"Huan."

"Hmm?"

"Actually, you don't need to mind what my mom said that day," the dark clouds gradually obscured the moon, and Hermione's voice grew softer. "I'll just be like before, like a normal..."

"Then let's care a little more." Bing Huan looked up, his left hand behind his back forming a hand seal, summoning a gust of wind. The fine sweat on his forehead showed that blowing away the dark clouds was not easy.

"Huh?" The bright moonlight shone on the two again.

"At least, I really want to... Min." Bing Huan tried his best to keep his tone calm, which would have been easier if his face wasn't as red as a flamingo.

The two, following the descriptions in books, gradually drew closer, closer...

From twenty centimeters to ten centimeters to five centimeters.

"Huan, Hermione, my mom made egg tarts, come and eat." Turning his head, Ron stood innocently by the window, with Cedric beside him, trying to stop him but failing.

Hermione covered her face and ran down. Seemingly sensing the killing intent, Cedric also subtly moved away.

Before leaving, he patted Ron on the shoulder. "I advise you to run."

"RON!!!!!!!!"