Over the next month, Zhang Xiao drove wherever he pleased, with no particular destination in mind.
He strolled along the beaches of the Jurassic Coast and used the Confundus Charm to buy specialty cocktails from bartenders in nameless little pubs.
He wandered across Carrick-a-Rede Bridge and fished on Lake Windermere.
He sneaked into Buckingham Palace for an afternoon nap and pitched a tent in Glen Coe Valley to gaze at the stars.
He rode a Kelpie through the waters of Loch Ness, roaming freely.
He sat in on lectures at Cambridge and Oxford, though he understood none of them, and pumped his fists at Old Trafford Stadium, cheering spectacular goals.
Following his whims, following his heart, honing himself, cultivating the truth.
Crackle, crackle. The campfire burned brightly, the soft snapping of firewood never ceasing.
Zhang Xiao sat cross-legged before the fire, humming a tune as he turned the meat skewers on the grill. It was summer, but nights in the valley were still cold.
A month of travel was neither particularly long nor particularly short, but the sights he saw and the people and events he encountered were the best training of all. Read ten thousand books; travel ten thousand miles.
Every tiny thing that moved him added depth to his life.
Even without deliberately cultivating, Zhang Xiao could still feel himself improving.
The oil-brushed meat gradually turned golden brown over the flames. Once he sprinkled on the seasonings, an enticing aroma filled the air. Swallowing, Zhang Xiao deftly poked it with his chopsticks.
Hmm, just the right firmness. It should be about done.
Too impatient to worry about the heat, he gave it a couple of careless blows and bit into it.
Chili, cumin, and that springy bite...
Zhang Xiao smacked his lips, savoring it carefully. Claiming it