13

The tree hollow was a world unto itself.

It was spacious, with traces of magic and extensive alterations everywhere. There was a separate bathroom, bedroom, and living room. Clearly, Uncle Laike'er had used magic to maximize every inch of this tiny tree hollow, much like a tent expanded with the Scarless Extension Charm.

"How long have you been living in China?" Fumengde could not help asking as he looked over the carefully crafted living space his younger brother had built. He was worried that his brother had grown used to a life of long-term hiding and exile. Even now, if Laike'er showed himself anywhere in Europe, he could easily be caught by Aurors.

"Nearly two years, I suppose. At first, I went to Hong Kong, China. Since Hong Kong was within British territory at the time, I didn't stay long—about a week. I was worried that if I remained there, Aurors from Britain might find me, so I went to places like Shanghai and Guangzhou and blended into Muggle life..."

Uncle shrugged. "But Muggle life clearly doesn't suit a wizard. After spending a year in Tibet, I came here and have lived here for another two years."

Laike'er and Fumengde talked for a while. The two brothers could not help sighing as they spoke of everything that had happened over the past five years, watching as the Mephisto Family, once ancient and prestigious, gradually declined before their eyes.

But eventually, they turned their attention to Sherlock. No one knew what they were discussing.

This was the first time Laike'er and Axinsha had met, yet Laike'er doted on his niece immensely. His room was filled with little trinkets he had made himself whenever he had been bored.

These strange little things occasionally made Axinsha giggle with delight.

"I want to look around nearby," Sherlock said, getting to his feet.

"You can. I've placed some spells around the area, so as long as you don't go too far, there shouldn't be any danger. But twenty meters east of here is a huge ancient tree, and a group of wild Bowtruckles live on it. Stay away from that tree, because the Bowtruckles will hurt anyone who gets close to it."

Sherlock nodded, but his heart was filled with curiosity about the ancient tree inhabited by Bowtruckles.

After climbing out of the tree hollow, he headed straight east and immediately spotted the ancient tree that his uncle, who clearly did not know its worth, had called an ordinary old tree.

"This... this is... at least a thousand-year-old Phoebe zhennan tree, isn't it?!"

Sherlock stared at the Phoebe zhennan tree, whose trunk was so thick that even four or five adults joining arms probably could not encircle it. This wood was worth more than gold by the gram on the international market and was known as the gold of timbers—let alone one that had grown for a thousand years.

In China, Phoebe zhennan also had another famous name: golden-thread nanmu.

It was a Class II nationally protected plant, extremely rare and precious.

In the magical world, wild golden-thread nanmu was also an excellent material for wandmaking.

A good wand could greatly affect a wizard's strength. For example, the difference between Dumbledore with the Elder Wand and Dumbledore without it was absolutely not insignificant.

The Elder Wand was called the "unbeatable" wand in the Harry Potter series, but Sherlock thought that was somewhat self-aggrandizing.

Gellert, the first Dark Lord, had possessed the Elder Wand for a time as well, yet he still lost his duel with Dumbledore.

This showed that the Elder Wand would not make its owner invincible. Just as an underage wizard holding the Elder Wand still could not possibly defeat a skilled adult wizard.

At most, the Elder Wand was the most extraordinary wand ever made in the magical world. Rumor had it that Death had crafted it from elder wood by the river and a Thestral tail feather.

In truth, every detail of the Elder Wand hinted at the standards of its maker. Elder was not the most popular material in wandmaking.

Only a very unusual person would find themselves perfectly matched with an elder wand. In such rare cases, when such a pairing occurred, one could be certain that the witch or wizard would be marked by a special destiny.

Stranger still, the Elder Wand's core was made of Thestral hair.

But Thestrals were known to be closely connected to death, along with their remarkable abilities of invisibility, flight, and finding their destination. How that affected a wand was uncertain, but it did suggest that the wand possessed powerful magic.

The Elder Wand knew no loyalty, only power.

It was entirely emotionless and went only where power resided. Though any wand could change its allegiance, most wands retained some degree of loyalty and attachment to their masters. By comparison, the Elder Wand's desire for power was "calm and ruthless." It had no true connection to its wielder; it was drawn solely to strength.

Elder wood and Thestral hair were not particularly difficult materials to acquire in the magical world, and in European eyes, both represented death. From this, one could imagine that the person who made the Elder Wand had been a true master, using those two materials to create it.

There was also the Elder Wand's uniquely capricious way of choosing its master.

Looking at the Phoebe zhennan tree before him, Sherlock murmured thoughtfully, "A wand will accompany a wizard for life. Perhaps it was not by chance that I came here."

He had read in books that Bowtruckles' favorite food was woodlice, and in this natural environment, it would be easy to find a whole cluster of them nearby.

When a wizard offered woodlice to a Bowtruckle, it would happily yield part of the tree it guarded, allowing the wizard to take a small amount of suitable material from it for wandmaking.

What Sherlock had his eye on was the straightest small section among the branches high up on the Phoebe zhennan tree.

Phoebe zhennan was hard, luxurious, rare, and precious. Unfortunately, he could only run back to the tree hollow and borrow his mother's wand, then use a small cutting spell to cut down that straight branch.

That piece of wood was enough to make a fifteen-inch wand.

However, Sherlock could clearly sense that the fresh wood still contained vitality. After all, it had just been cut from the tree and was not yet deadwood.

"Mom, do you know any way to preserve the vitality of this piece of wood?"

Aili found her son's request somewhat strange, but when she saw the wood in his hand, she seemed to understand what he had in mind.

"Actually, Sherlock, you're being a little too hasty. When it's time for you to start school, we can naturally return to Ollivanders Wand Shop in Diagon Alley and carefully choose a good wand for you. Your father's wand and mine were both bought there."

Faced with Aili's persuasion, Sherlock stubbornly shook his head.

Aili sighed helplessly. "Spells have a hard time preserving a plant's vitality. There may be such a spell, but I never learned it. I only know that there's a potion recipe that can preserve a plant's vitality."

"Can you make it now?"

Sherlock asked hopefully. Besides being skilled with spells, his mother Aili was also, in Sherlock's memory, first-rate at brewing potions.

"If Laike'er has the necessary ingredients and brewing equipment here."

Laike'er shrugged from the side. The two brothers were quite alike when it came to studying. Laike'er had been a poor student back in school too, and he did not have any ingredients or materials for brewing potions here.

"I think you should just go back to the manor and deal with it there. But I once saw Muggles putting freshly picked flowers into vases of water. That can keep plants fresh!"

Laike'er brought over a basin of water and had Sherlock place the wood inside.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He was now planning to persuade his parents to leave this place that afternoon and return to the manor instead.