Breeze Order

On a street in London, beside a large bookstore, an eleven- or twelve-year-old boy sat on a bench with an old but clean shoulder bag on his back. He held an enormous newspaper, hiding his expression among its lines.

"I can't believe magic really exists in this world."

The boy hadn't actually been reading the newspaper. He had been thinking about what had happened a few days ago. He spread the paper across his swinging legs, his pitch-black eyes gleaming with excitement—and, of course, a trace of worry. After all, this was so at odds with his memories, and it had upended the life he knew.

He smoothed his choppy, glossy black hair, which fell to his ears, then lowered his head to hide his eyes once more, as if lost in thought.

Just then—

"Mr. Order?"

A dignified, elegant woman wearing a dark green shawl approached him with graceful steps.

The boy looked up. His strikingly handsome East Asian features were soft, too; when he smiled, he was like a gentle breeze and drizzle, immediately putting people at ease.

"Are you Ms. Vance? I'm Order—Breeze Order. You can call me Breeze."

The woman nodded, her expression restrained, but her eyes held a tender affection. Her voice softened as she said, "Yes, just as Betty said. You're a very polite child."

"I'm Emmeline Vance. You can call me Emmeline."

Emmeline Vance was Betty's niece and a witch. Betty knew nothing about witches, however. She was the head of a London orphanage, and not long ago, she had asked her niece to take care of Breeze's school enrollment.

Betty had adopted Breeze when he was an infant, and he was the child she loved most. But sadly, Betty had passed away recently. The letter asking Emmeline for help had become her final one.

Looking at Breeze, Emmeline thought of that letter. Having read it, she understood that Betty had hoped Breeze could attend Stonewall High School.

It wasn't a good school, but for Breeze, who had grown up in an orphanage, it would have been a decent place. Then, not long after Betty's death, an owl arrived with a Hogwarts acceptance letter, disrupting Betty's plans.

"I'm sorry, Breeze. Betty made all the arrangements for you, but I have to take you into the Wizarding World, because you're a young wizard."

She patted Breeze's head. His exceptionally soft black hair made Emmeline feel inexplicably fond of him.

"Come along, dear. I think you're ready."

Breeze pressed his lips together. The confusion and worry faded from his eyes, leaving only excitement and longing. No one could refuse magic.

"I think I am, Emmeline. But I don't know much about Hogwarts. To be honest, I never imagined there was magic in this world."

Emmeline nodded, lost in her memories. Hadn't she once been just as unable to imagine magic and Hogwarts?

"You'll learn. Hogwarts will give you the most wonderful seven years of your life."

Emmeline took Breeze's little hand and led him into the old, dilapidated pub between the bookstore and the record shop—the Leaky Cauldron. Passersby paid it no mind. This was where magic began.

Breeze thought, I'd thought I could use those memories to get myself a better life.

Breeze had always kept one secret from everyone, afraid they'd call him a monster. But those memories had also made him seem more mature, well-behaved, and lovable than other children his age. That was why Betty had worried so much about him and treated him like her own child.

The memories belonged to a young man named An Qing. They contained the entirety of his brief life, all twenty-two years of it. They resided in Breeze's mind like a ball, and whenever Breeze wanted something and tried to reach out to them, they opened up to him like a book, giving him knowledge and insight into the world. But the memories clearly came from the East, and from a time other than 1991. Breeze still had to rely on himself to adapt to everything in Britain.

At the same time, whenever he touched the memories, they gave Breeze a special kind of power.

Breeze called it natural power.

It made nature fond of him. Small animals and plants were all friendly toward him. It also gave him a healthy body: he had never been sick, and even if he got hurt by accident, he healed quickly under nature's influence.

Of course, there might be other effects. Breeze just hadn't discovered them yet.

Breeze had once thought the memories had somehow changed his body. Now it seemed this was caused by magic, and the source of his magic was those memories...

Without them, he wondered, would he have ended up at Stonewall High School, living an ordinary life and never learning about the Wizarding World—just as Betty had never known about magic, since Emmeline had never told her?

Betty had told Breeze that, to her, Emmeline was simply an elegant lady.

Before learning about magic, Breeze hadn't dared to fully delve into the memories. It wasn't only because they made him different from ordinary people. More than anything, he feared that if he accepted all of them, it would be like being possessed: he would stop being Breeze and become An Qing.

So Breeze only cautiously touched the memories when he needed something, always remaining wary of them.

Even now, he still didn't dare. Until he was sure it was safe, he wouldn't recklessly approach the memories, even if reading them could give him magical power. He wasn't that desperate. More than power, he didn't want to become someone else.

But Breeze didn't know that, after all those years of contact, the memories had already influenced him. His temperament and behavior had both grown more like An Qing's.

Just like his name—Breeze—he was slowly changing.

Before he knew about the Wizarding World, Breeze's dream had been to graduate from Stonewall High School, learn as much as he could, and rise above his station. Or, when he grew old, he wanted to leave Britain and set out on his final journey.

He couldn't explain his relationship with An Qing. Every so often, he wondered if he was An Qing, or perhaps just another personality born from his soul.

"Ding-a-ling."

The bell above the pub door jingled softly. The pub was already so noisy that no one paid much attention. Those who did glanced over once or twice before looking away, though Breeze could feel a few curious gazes fixed on him.

Well, he did have an East Asian face. Breeze liked it, too.

When he glanced back, he saw all kinds of strange people in wizard robes, talking in hushed voices. The gazes vanished at once, as if he'd imagined them.

Breeze thought uneasily, Are wizards always this strange? Emmeline seems perfectly nice.

Emmeline seemed to notice his discomfort. She frowned and nodded to Tom, the pub's owner, then led Breeze through the crowd toward the back courtyard.

In her eyes, this place was full of all sorts of people and wasn't somewhere they should linger.

When she saw old women in wizard robes that looked like rags drinking pear cider and swaying drunkenly, Emmeline felt even more uncomfortable and wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

The pub's owner, Tom, was a gaunt old man. When he laughed, you could count the yellow-stained teeth he had left. But his eyes were bright. He glanced at Emmeline and Breeze, then went back to talking with a disheveled man at the bar.

The man sounded excited, his voice still hoarse from his earlier shouting. "Oh, that was Harry Potter! Good heavens, the Boy Who Lived has finally returned to the Wizarding World!"

He scratched his head, and dry strands of hair kept falling out. He looked as though he hadn't taken care of himself in ages. Frowning in bewilderment, he said, "But that's not what Dumbledore said! Why is Harry Potter like that? I mean, strange... If it weren't for the scar on his forehead, no one would recognize him."

Tom chuckled, but there was something odd in his eyes. He calmly wiped the man's fallen hair off the counter with a rag and said nothing, clearly hoping to end the conversation.

The pub was abuzz with talk of Harry Potter. Most people were saying how fortunate they were, that they had shaken Harry Potter's hand, seen his lightning-shaped scar, or heard about his school enrollment. Others murmured about You-Know-Who, which left Breeze quite puzzled.

Breeze's memories contained nothing about Harry Potter, and neither had An Qing's. But he didn't dwell on it. This was the Wizarding World, after all, so it was natural for some things to be different. Breeze figured Harry Potter was probably like a celebrity. He'd seen in An Qing's memories that, in that era, celebrities always caused a stir. Their fans went wild, and even ordinary people discussed every little thing about them. It seemed much the same as the people in the pub.

By then, Emmeline had led Breeze into the back courtyard, a small, walled-in space with nothing but a trash can and weeds. Of course, the Wizarding World wasn't always what it seemed.

Emmeline took out her wand. "Count three bricks up from the trash can—then two bricks across—"

"You need to remember this phrase. This is the passage from London to Diagon Alley, the wizards' shopping street. We'll buy your school supplies and wand there. You'll need to come here by yourself in the future."

"If you haven't changed your mind about letting me adopt you, I can bring you here every time."

It was clear that Emmeline had considered adopting Breeze and even tried to do so before, but Breeze had refused. After spending a little time with him, though, she'd begun to think about it again.

Who wouldn't like a handsome, adorable, well-behaved boy?

"Knock, knock!" As she finished speaking, she rapped the wand against the brick three times without waiting for Breeze to answer.

When the knocks stopped, the brick she'd struck began to tremble and move. A small hole appeared in the middle and widened until, before long, a broad archway stood before them, opening onto a winding cobblestone street that stretched out of sight.

Shops lined both sides of the street. Sunlight shimmered on the rooftops, and the place below was bustling with lively chatter. Few people noticed them. The wall had been opened so many times that everyone had learned to ignore it and turn their attention to the wares that caught their eye instead.

[New book launched: The Great Zhou Archivist.]

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[Publishing platform: Qidian Reading]