Divvying Up the Spoils

Zhang San jumped down from Hermione Granger. After shuddering, Hermione finally regained control of her body.

"Y-you... you... I..."

"Ah... mmph..." Hermione was about to scream when Ron swiftly covered her mouth.

Harry said nervously, "You'll bring Filch here. Whatever it is, let's talk after we get back to the common room."

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears as she stared resolutely at Zhang San, her face practically screaming, "I'm tainted."

Zhang San was almost frightened by Hermione's stare. As a ghost, he was especially sensitive to emotional fluctuations. The resentment radiating from Hermione was so intense that Zhang San nearly lost control and feasted on the spot.

Though eating directly was a little uncouth, taking a small taste was fine. This was the purest resentment of a young girl—a rare and exquisite delicacy.

Since she was already resentful anyway, taking a few more breaths of resentment wouldn't be a loss.

The more mixed and complicated an emotion was, the more painful it became when absorbing moonlight. Pure resentment like Hermione's was the best cultivation nourishment for a ghost cultivator. It contained no killing intent, no hatred—only pure resentment... This kid was actually pretty decent.

Zhang San had never studied much psychology, so he had no idea whether this was the suspension bridge effect or Stockholm syndrome... Whatever. He would just call it the Zhang San effect.

Zhang San led the way as a ghost, while Harry and Ron followed behind on tiptoe. Hermione trailed far behind them with her lips pursed, like a resentful young wife.

The group returned awkwardly to the Gryffindor common room. Harry lit a candle to illuminate the area, while Hermione plopped down on the long sofa and looked tearfully at the Gryffindor delinquents before her.

Especially that Third Zhang. Even after dying, he still refused to behave himself. He had actually... actually...

Hmph!

Zhang San rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Split the money, split the money... Hermione, please take out Young Master Malfoy's wallet."

Hermione angrily slammed the wallet onto the table, wearing an expression that said, "Let's see what you're trying to do."

These boys were simply rotten to the core. Not only had they arranged a midnight duel with Malfoy, but when she had kindly tried to stop them, she had been possessed by a ghost and forcibly taken to the dueling site to serve as the main attacker.

And that wasn't even the end of it. After ruthlessly teaching that detestable Malfoy a lesson, Zhang San had actually stolen Malfoy's wallet.

Merlin's spectacles! How could he do all these things so naturally and with such peace of mind? Wasn't he an outright criminal beyond the law?

What about the school rules? What about the laws of the Ministry of Magic? This guy ought to be locked in Azkaban for life!

Zhang San had yet to learn object manipulation, so he could only direct Harry Potter to open the money bag.

Harry Potter still had some moral boundaries. He said weakly, "Third, isn't this a little wrong?"

"What's wrong with it? This is compensation from Malfoy for my emotional distress. You all heard it—he called me a Mudblood, and he said it three times," Zhang San said righteously.

Harry asked curiously, "What's a Mudblood? Why did it make you so angry?"

Ron hurriedly interrupted before Zhang San could explain further. "Harry, all you need to know is that Malfoy said something really filthy... Anyway, that word is terrible. Absolutely terrible. Third Zhang was already being merciful by not beating him to death."

Harry Potter nodded thoughtfully. "So that's how it is. But I shouldn't take this money... I didn't really help. Malfoy was beaten by Third Zhang and Hermione together."

Zhang San chuckled. "Who said you didn't help? Do you know what it means to lend your presence? Back in China, when people got into group fights, even if you didn't throw a punch, you still got paid for showing up. You're the savior of the wizarding world—your appearance fee isn't cheap."

Ron said weakly, "Then I should take less too."

"Don't be like that. You're a Weasley—one of Britain's oldest wizarding families. Ron, don't underestimate yourself. Your standing in the wizarding world isn't any lower than Harry's," Zhang San encouraged.

Though the Weasley Family of loyal heroes was poor now, once all of Ron's brothers graduated, the Weasley Family would become the largest force in the wizarding world.

Members of other families were few and scattered, but the Weasley Family had strength in numbers. Arthur and Molly Weasley were practically the wizarding world's model couple and model parents. Their contribution to increasing the wizarding population was equivalent to that of six families.

"I took Malfoy down, so I decide how we split the money," Zhang San declared, settling the matter.

It was already the middle of the night. Zhang San did not need sleep, but that did not mean Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not tired. They should just split the money and be done with it. What was there to fuss over with a few dozen Galleons?

An equal split would do.

Zhang San had Ron hand everyone nineteen Galleons and six Sickles. There were no Knuts at all; Young Master Malfoy did not carry such small-denomination currency.

Ron held a small handful of gold coins, trembling. "I have enough money to replace my wand? I finally don't have to keep using Charlie's secondhand wand!"

Zhang San said, "Write home immediately and ask Mr. Weasley to take you to Diagon Alley to buy a new wand as soon as possible."

Ron nodded eagerly. "I also want a new pet. Scabbers is just too ugly."

Zhang San fell into thought... If he remembered correctly, there was something unusual about that rat. It seemed to have been transformed from someone... Who was it again? Damn it! Why had his damned brain forgotten something like this?

If he could not remember, then he would stop thinking about it. At worst, he could tell Headmaster Dumbledore. With the Headmaster's magical attainments, he could definitely keep a rat under control. Besides, the plot of the first book was already a complete mess. At worst, he could wreck the plot of the third book too.

That was the consequence of having died once—Zhang San had forgotten that Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew in disguise, and he had also forgotten that this man was the true culprit behind Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, being thrown into Azkaban.

Harry Potter suggested, "You could also buy an owl to keep Hedwig company. You can keep it in the owlery during class, and it won't need any special care."

The silent Hermione finally said, "I think a cat would be nice..."

After saying that, she angrily snatched her share from Ron's hand. Although Hermione's conscience told her she should not take the money, Malfoy's insults had been far too vile—after all, Zhang San had endured those insults while inhabiting Hermione's body. The person Malfoy had truly intended to insult was her.

Though Zhang San was utterly detestable, if she refused the compensation he had claimed for her emotional distress, how could she justify the abuse she had endured for nothing?

Besides, if she took the money, Zhang San would receive one less share. Hermione knew that if she did not take a share, then given Harry and Ron's personalities, that portion would definitely end up in Zhang San's pocket.

And Hermione truly did need money. The Gringotts goblins imposed a limit on currency exchange. Although Hermione's family ran a dental clinic and did not lack British pounds, everything in the wizarding world was bought with Galleons.

Magic books cost money, newspaper subscriptions cost money, professional journals cost money, and buying materials from Diagon Alley cost money... The few Galleons exchanged at Gringotts were nowhere near enough. Young wizards from Muggle families truly had it hard.

These Galleons did not look like much, but prices in the wizarding world were genuinely baffling. Unless Hermione intended to become a pure theorist, the Galleons in her pocket would definitely not be enough.

Hermione's talent for Potions was extraordinary. In her second year, she had successfully brewed the incredibly complex and dangerous Polyjuice Potion. If that didn't count as talent, then what did?

Why had she later faded into obscurity instead of becoming a grandmaster of Potions?

Wasn't it all because of money? Did buying potion ingredients not cost money? She couldn't exactly rob Snape's storeroom every time she brewed a potion, could she? Then who was the real outlaw—Zhang San?

Hermione left as soon as she took the money, and Zhang San clicked his tongue in amazement at her crisp, decisive retreating figure. Before him was the film version of Hermione, not the plain-looking bookish girl from the original novel, but a slender, flowerlike beauty.

Boys were creatures whose values followed their eyes. Even though Zhang San had kicked the bucket, he was still a young man. As the saying went, Even dying beneath peonies makes one a gallant ghost... Though ghost cultivators had few worldly desires after death, there was no reason to miss out on the scenery, right?

Ron remarked wistfully, "That girl's really cool!"

Harry chimed in, "Isn't she? But I still prefer someone gentle..."

Zhang San snapped his fingers. "Please, you two, get to sleep already. At dawn, you'll still have to come work as temple keepers for me. Let me make this clear first: if you can't get up, I'll pick one lucky brother to possess and send to work."

Harry and Ron immediately charged back to their dormitory like stampeding boars. They definitely did not want Zhang San possessing them!