The Good Stuff

The day after Zhang San returned to class was Friday. It should have been a festive day with the weekend just around the corner, but two Potions classes in a row put a serious damper on his good mood.

In the Great Hall early that morning, Harry served himself a bowl of porridge while Ron gnawed on a meat pie and offered incense to Zhang San.

A small altar table had been conspicuously placed on the Gryffindor table. A tiny incense burner sat atop it, with Zhang San's breakfast arranged on either side.

Although ghosts had no need to eat, who said eating was only about filling one's stomach? If ghost cultivators went without food for too long, they could easily forget that they had once been human. So Zhang San did his best to maintain the routine of a living person.

Thus appeared a classic scene that could only be called one of Hogwarts's great wonders—Weasley offering incense.

The food Ron placed on the altar could indeed be eaten by Zhang San. However, Zhang San could only consume the food's vital essence. The food itself showed no immediate change after its essence was consumed, but it would rapidly spoil within twenty-four hours.

If anyone took a bite of the offerings before they spoiled, they would find that food drained of its vital essence by Zhang San tasted like chewing wax.

Hogwarts's food stores would not mind the little bit of food Zhang San "wasted." The wizarding world had long since achieved food self-sufficiency, and no matter how poor Hogwarts might be, it would never skimp on its students' meals.

You could say Hogwarts food did not taste good, but you could never say they did not feed people enough. Britain itself was a culinary wasteland, so the Hogwarts dining hall mostly served fish and chips, roast meat pudding, meat pies, haggis, Irish stew, and the like.

And during holidays, you could even spot such a classic sanity-draining dish as Stargazy Pie on the tables. The house-elves' cooking was trustworthy, and the fish-head pie they served was very traditional.

As Harry added sugar to his porridge, he asked, "What classes do we have today?"

Zhang San's already pale face turned even whiter. "Two Potions classes this morning... and they're with Slytherin."

Ron complained, "Why do all Gryffindor classes have to be with Slytherin? I don't like those lot. Especially Malfoy... who's he putting on airs for every single day?"

"He's proud to be pure-blooded," Zhang San calmly remarked.

Harry asked, "Siri, are you a pure-blood wizard from China?"

"We Chinese don't care much about that. The ancient Eastern nation has such a long history that, based on the laws of genetic probability, anyone born in modern times probably has some illustrious ancestor." Zhang San spoke casually.

The three ate breakfast, each lost in his own thoughts, when a flock of owls flew into the Great Hall. These magical couriers delivered newspapers students had subscribed to and parcels from their families, then snagged a few breadcrumbs or a piece or two of roast meat from their customers before leaving.

Zhang San suddenly spotted an unusual creature among the owls. It was a red-crowned crane with a distinctly Eastern air—the legendary immortal crane—with a small brocade pouch tied around one of its long legs.

"Hey... the delivery's here!" Zhang San had Harry receive the package for him.

His senior brother really worked fast. He had barely gone back before sending the goods over. But had this immortal crane really flown all the way from China? Wouldn't that exhaust the poor bird?

Yet the crane showed not the slightest sign of fatigue. It stood on the Gryffindor table, elegant and ethereal, composed and full of vigor. Surrounded by a flock of owls, the idiom "standing out like a crane among chickens" had truly come to life.

"Whoa, what a beautiful bird!"

"I know that one. It's an Eastern crane."

"Why can't Hogwarts use Eastern cranes to deliver letters?"

The students began chatting excitedly at the sight of the immortal crane. Hearing them, it remained unruffled as it preened its feathers. After a while, it shook its head, signaling for Zhang San to open the pouch and check whether its contents were what he needed.

"Harry, open the pouch so I can have a look," Zhang San said.

Since the drawstring clasp of the spatial pouch was the key to opening its compressed space, he needed the bag opened before he could see what was inside.

Harry Potter clumsily untied the drawstring clasp. It was his first time seeing such a strange knot, and it was no easy task to undo.

Zhang San had no physical body to begin with, so once the pouch was opened, he stuck his head straight inside to take a look. The sight was horrifying no matter how one looked at it, leaving Harry and Ron utterly stunned.

"Everything's here. All premium goods." Zhang San beamed. With the items his senior brother had sent, his little temple would never lack incense offerings again.

Ron asked curiously, "Siri—San'er—what's in the bag?"

"Game consoles. Imported arcade machines from Japan," Zhang San explained.

Ron's eyes lit up at once. "The kind Muggle boys play?"

"Better than that. There's Street Fighter II, which was just released this year. It's the hottest game in the arcades right now," Zhang San said proudly.

Ron spotted the problem. "But Hogwarts doesn't have electricity, so Muggle appliances definitely won't work here. Even if you have arcade machines, they're useless."

Zhang San replied with complete confidence, "What does Hogwarts not having electricity have to do with my little temple? I'm planning to open an arcade beneath it. Students only need to offer one stick of incense at the temple to get ten game tokens."

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley both sucked in a sharp breath. Eastern wisdom was truly terrifying. They both believed that once the arcade opened, Zhang San's little temple would definitely become more popular than Hogsmeade.

Especially for young wizards who were not yet allowed to leave Hogwarts for Hogsmeade village, what could be better than happily playing arcade games over a long weekend?

Ron and Harry finally understood why Zhang San had asked them to be temple attendants. Once the arcade truly opened, the little temple would need people to help maintain order.

Zhang San's cultivation was still shallow, and for the moment he had no ability to interfere with reality. Even the game tokens had to be handed out by Harry and Ron on his behalf.

"You two are the brothers of Sirde Zhang, and you're also my temple attendants... I'll cover all your game tokens." Zhang San spoke earnestly.

Harry and Ron looked utterly ecstatic. If they had read Romance of the Three Kingdoms, they would surely have dropped to one knee and declared with deep feeling:

If you do not reject us, we are willing to take you as our sworn father!

"We're bros, damn it. Work hard with me, make it big and strong, create greater glory, and there'll be plenty in it for you." Zhang San shamelessly painted them a huge picture.

As they talked, the conversation returned to the Potions class they had that day. Ron, whose actual older brother attended Hogwarts, said, "I heard from Fred that Professor Snape is the head of Slytherin. He loves favoring his own students in class. Having lessons with Slytherin is absolute torture."

Zhang San began wondering what state Professor Snape would appear in today. Would he spray venom like an old viper? Or stalk back and forth with his robes dragging behind him like an old bat?

He wouldn't target me, would he...? Not only am I from the East, I'm not even a person anymore. Other than Professor Binns, no professor would be too pleased to find a ghost in their classroom.

Especially someone as difficult as Snape, who always looked as if everyone owed him money. It would be truly strange if he gave Zhang San a warm welcome.

Yet something strange did happen. Snape treated Zhang San so well that every strand of his nonexistent hair stood on end.

He had imagined meeting a sarcastic Snape, a mocking Snape, even an icy Snape... but a warmly welcoming Snape with a smile on his face was truly beyond anything he had expected.

Was Hogwarts reversed from a ghost's perspective? Otherwise, why was this guy grinning like Shen Teng? Ghosts really could not understand it!