Zhang Xiao's actions had clearly distracted him. After briefly reassuring the young wizards, he strode over to Zhang Xiao.
His face was more serious than Zhang Xiao had ever seen it.
"Zhang, I believe I told you... do not try to master powers you were never meant to possess.
"Quirinus Quirrell... I remember him... an outstanding Ravenclaw, with a kind heart. But he meddled with things he should never have touched..."
Dumbledore abruptly stopped speaking as he watched Zhang Xiao pull one strange object after another from his miraculous bag.
Incense, candles, spirit money, little paper effigies, a suona, brass plates, fruit platters, rice, bowls, wooden chopsticks, and even a bottle of Moutai.
Under Dumbledore's bewildered gaze, Zhang Xiao lit the incense and candles with his wand, tossed the spirit money into the air, and raised the suona, swaying his head as he played.
If electronic devices had worked at Hogwarts, he would definitely have pulled out his portable cassette player and played a funeral dirge for Quirrell.
Not that he actually knew how to play the suona. He was just blowing into it at random.
The scene promptly became bizarre. In an empty room, Dumbledore and four young wizards stared blankly at Zhang Xiao, while Harry Potter lay on the floor.
Meanwhile, Zhang Xiao was sweating profusely as he put on his performance. He had picked up these odds and ends from his parents. When they ran their stall, they often took on funeral work. There was nothing supernatural about it; it was purely to satisfy the deceased's family.
Finally, he poured a cup of liquor onto the spot where Quirrell had been cremated, closed his eyes, and muttered a few words about being a good person in his next life.
Feeling that he had put on enough of