Informing the Family, Support from Senior Brother

"Mr. Zhang, are you all right?" Dumbledore looked up at Zhang San, who was floating in midair, and asked seriously.

Ghost Zhang San rolled his eyes dramatically. "As you can see, being dead doesn't actually feel very good."

"I offer my deepest apologies for your death," Dumbledore said sincerely.

Zhang San waved a hand. "You should discuss the apology and compensation with my senior brother. He's the one in charge of the Celestial Masters' Mansion."

"Then is there anything you would like to say to Celestial Master Zhang? We can deliver a message for you," Dumbledore said.

"There are indeed some last words. It would be best if you could pass them on to my senior brother. Please ask him to consult the elders of our sect and see if there's any way to pull me out of this mess. So many generations of Celestial Masters from Mount Longhu must have plenty of connections down below. Could they arrange some kind of official post for me in the underworld?" Zhang San rambled on.

Dumbledore, a master of Transfiguration, conjured a quill and swiftly recorded Zhang San's requests. He then arranged for Professor McGonagall to personally travel to Mount Longhu with the letter.

It was best to deliver something like an obituary in person. Otherwise, the people of Mount Longhu might fly into a rage and roast the owl that delivered it.

Professor McGonagall was Hogwarts' deputy headmistress and the head of Gryffindor. Having her deliver these "last words" carried enough weight.

Britain and China were separated by thousands of miles, but with the aid of a magical Portkey, Professor McGonagall returned from China that very night. Although Portkeys had a notoriously poor reputation for user experience, they really were the most reliable means of long-distance travel.

By the time Professor McGonagall returned, Zhang San had been floating beneath the Great Hall's dome for half the night. He had only just died and become a ghost, so he was still unaccustomed to his current spectral body. Worse, becoming a ghost caused severe memory loss. Zhang San felt as though he was about to turn into an idiot.

Zhang San had possessed cultivation before coming to Hogwarts. He had gone up Mount Longhu at the age of four and had been there for more than seven years. He had already taken his first steps on the path of cultivating life and vitality. Otherwise, he would not have remained so calm and rational after becoming a ghost.

Most of the ghosts in Hogwarts Castle were at least somewhat mad. Ghosts were vessels of obsession; to ordinary people, they seemed bizarre, eccentric, and thoroughly abnormal.

Zhang San's cultivation of life and vitality simply was not advanced enough. If he had mastered the ability to project his yin spirit, he would not even have lost his memories after becoming a ghost.

As everyone knew, the most frustrating thing for an amnesiac was that it was difficult to realize exactly which memories had been lost. So while floating on the ceiling and waiting for Professor McGonagall's return, Zhang San kept sorting through his memory bank, trying to determine which parts had become fragmented.

The good news: none of his memories from this life were missing.

The bad news: he had lost more than half of his memories from his previous life.

What pained him most was that he had forgotten every detail of the plot of the Harry Potter films. His once-clear foresight had been reduced to a vague outline.

For example, Zhang San remembered that Voldemort had split his soul and made Horcruxes, but he had forgotten what each Horcrux was and where it had been hidden.

For another, Zhang San knew that Dumbledore would die before the ending, but he had forgotten when Dumbledore would die and why.

The prophetic knowledge of a transmigrator reborn into another world had vanished completely after he became a ghost. Apart from knowing that the Golden Trio would definitely win in the end, Zhang San knew virtually nothing else.

The travel-worn Professor McGonagall pushed open the castle's heavy doors. This elderly woman, who was practically sixty by rounded figures, entered and looked compassionately with her emerald-green eyes at Zhang San, who was floating beneath the starry dome and pretending to be a flying mural. "Mr. Sird Zhang," she said, "I have brought a reply from the Celestial Masters' Mansion."

By now, Zhang San had grown accustomed to his ghostly body. It was not only more nimble than a physical body, but it could fly, pass through walls, and ignore all physical attacks...

Other than occasionally sensing covetous gazes from beyond the castle, Zhang San felt life was peaceful and serene.

"Incendio!" Following the Celestial Master's instructions, Professor McGonagall set the package alight before Zhang San. As green smoke curled upward, a package that seemed both real and unreal appeared in Zhang San's hands.

"Thank you for the trouble, Professor McGonagall. I'm grateful that you made this trip especially for me," Zhang San said politely.

The Lion Queen felt even more guilty upon hearing this. He was already a Gryffindor student, and he had proven his courage with his life. Even though Zhang San had not attended a single class at Hogwarts, he was already one of Gryffindor's own.

The students had already been led back to their respective dormitories by the prefects. The professors were also busy controlling the situation, contacting the Ministry of Magic, contacting the Celestial Masters' Mansion, and escorting Quirrell to the Wizengamot for trial.

Thus, the only one left waiting in the Great Hall for McGonagall's return was Zhang San, a lone wandering ghost.

He eagerly opened the package, wanting to see what support his sect had sent him.

There were two books and a letter inside. Zhang San opened the envelope and read the letter first. Hogwarts Castle blocked electromagnetic signals, so communication could only rely on the primitive and inefficient method of writing letters.

The letter read:

"Junior Brother Zhang San, Your senior brother has learned that you perished at Hogwarts. My grief and anguish know no bounds. As for your soul returning to the underworld, I also know that you wish to serve there as an official.

However, since you died overseas, that place lies outside the jurisdiction of the Kings of Hell. By law, you should enter the Western Hell. At present, Hell and the underworld have yet to sign an agreement for transferring souls, so you must rely on the strength of your own soul to cross the sea and return home.

Your senior brother has specially found two secret manuals for you. The first is the Nine Nether Soul Refinement Chapter, and the second is the Divine Talisman Heavenly Fragrance Art. I hope you cultivate them diligently, attain a cultivation that reaches the heavens, and return to China. Your foolish senior brother will use the Celestial Master Seal in the city of Fengdu to secure a position for you.

Persevere, persevere!

Your senior brother, Celestial Master of Mount Longhu, Zhang Da."

Tears nearly welled up in Zhang San's eyes as he looked at the letter in his hands. After all these years, his eldest senior brother's handwriting was still so ugly, and he still had not kicked that bad habit of putting on airs with classical Chinese.

Who said Celestial Masters had to speak so stiffly and formally? The old Celestial Master in Under One Person was very much in step with the times. He even had Zhang Lingyu send him a sniper rifle.

They had all grown up together. Why put on such a pretentious act for no reason?

Fortunately, his senior brother was still reliable. Although he could not ferry Zhang San back to China and arrange a job for him, he had sent him a way to save his life.

The longer a ghost remained in that state, the more unhinged it became. Professor Binns, Hogwarts' inherited treasure and the unchanging History of Magic teacher for a century, was the clearest example.

During the first two years after his death, he still knew how to adapt his lessons. But now, Professor Binns could only recite the history of magic straight from the book, like a tireless playback machine. Aside from Dumbledore's delight at saving the salary of one professor, the students unanimously agreed that History of Magic was incredibly good for sleeping—truly a blessing for insomniacs.

Zhang San might have felt fine now, but if he remained a ghost for much longer, he too would become abnormal.

Fortunately, the two secret manuals his senior brother had sent Professor McGonagall across thousands of miles to deliver contained a solution. The Nine Nether Soul Refinement Chapter was a cultivation method for ghost cultivators, making it a perfect fit for Zhang San's ghostly body.

Cultivating the Nine Nether Soul Refinement Chapter would strengthen his soul, keep him clearer-headed while he remained in the mortal world, and allow him to break through the limitations of a ghostly body, gaining the ability to affect material objects.

The Divine Talisman Heavenly Fragrance Art, meanwhile, was an unconventional cultivation method. This path was called becoming a god through incense offerings. In China's mythological system, local deities such as mountain gods, earth gods, and city gods were mostly incense gods.

Zhang San had died in a foreign land, and his soul should have belonged to the Western Hell. But he had exploited a loophole: a wizard with an obsession who did not wish to move on would become a ghost if they died at Hogwarts, and he happened to meet that condition.

Under the ancient pact between Death and wizards, soul reapers were forbidden from entering Hogwarts Castle. That was why Zhang San had survived the Killing Curse, and even if he died, he could still cling to the mortal world as a ghost.

Meanwhile, an incense deity could use incense offerings to condense an incense divine body. Once he became an incense deity, he would hold a divine office in the mortal realm and would no longer count as completely dead. Even if hell's soul reapers came for him, they would not be able to take his soul away.

These were the two escape routes Eldest Senior Brother had prepared for him. As long as Zhang San cultivated these two secret manuals to a certain level, he would be able to return to Huaxia and let his soul fully return to the underworld.

Advance, and he could enter reincarnation, be reborn into a lower generation, and rejoin the sect; retreat, and he could serve as a ghost official in the underworld. If he accumulated enough yin virtue, he might even have a chance to secure an official post in the underworld and become a proud yin deity.

Wasn't living all about getting an official post? An official post after death was still an official post. What more could he ask for?