Chapter 426: The Sorting

The crumpled folds and grimy patch on that broken hat began to move, quickly forming a slightly twisted, abstract face, and then the thing started singing an incomprehensible song— from its tone, this fellow spends basically all his time each year figuring out how to compose this year's song. "If it's like this every year, after so many years it's hard on this thing," Bai Lang thought. "Hannah Aibo!" Professor McGonagall unfurled a parchment and called out the first name.

A rosy‑cheeked little girl with two golden braids stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, which just covered her eyes. She sat down. After a brief pause— "Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted. The people at the table on the right applauded and cheered for Hannah, welcoming her to sit at their table. And if Bai Lang weren't surnamed White, his placement would have been far up the list.

Sure enough, after only a moment, Professor McGonagall shouted, "Lang Bai!"—indeed following the British custom of given name first, surname last. Bai Lang, staff in hand, strode briskly to the stool, and the filthy broken hat was placed on his head. "Whoa, this is something," the hat whispered, its voice tiny as it swirled in Bai Lang's ear. "Well, you're not bad either; a talking, thinking hat is probably rare in this world." Bai Lang replied, "Anyway I'm not pure‑blood, so I can't get into Slytherin; just give me a house where I can blend in."

"You're praising me like that… Gryffindor!" the hat shouted. Bai Lang was certain he wasn't the protagonist; otherwise the hat would have kept yakking with him. He lifted the hat, saw the house on the far left cheering, but as he passed Draco Malfoy, Malfoy curled one corner of his mouth into a toothy sneer, then clenched his right fist, sliding his thumb under his own throat—a decidedly vicious gesture.

Malfoy's face flushed bright red again, but Bai Lang laughed and walked over to the table of the foolish Gryffindor house, pulled out a chair and sat down, nodding to his classmates. His move quieted the Gryffindor cheers a little, though a pair of twins seemed even more boisterous. In fact, the Sorting Hat should have placed Bai Lang into Akham Academy.

Many saw the provocation toward Malfoy, but now it's hard to comment… the sorting continued. Neville Longbottom kept making a joke; after being placed in Gryffindor he almost ran over still wearing the hat, but Professor McGonagall caught him and took the hat off. The rest proceeded just like in the film—people went where they were meant to go. When Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, the entire school practically blew up.

Bai Lang didn't feel much; after all he'd read the books and knew Harry Potter was rather obsessive, and if he weren't the protagonist he'd probably be unlikable. He didn't intend to be close to the "savior" nor to become friends, so there was no need to get excited—waiting for a meal was the proper business. When the last young wizard was assigned, Professor McGonagall left with the hat, and Albus Dumbledore stood up. He beamed at the students, spread his arms, and seemed to have no greater joy than seeing the students packed together. "Welcome!" he said, "Welcome everyone to Hogwarts to start the new school year! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. Namely: fool! crybaby! scum! twist! 'Thank you all!' He sat down again. The crowd applauded and cheered.

"Old bee, old lunatic," Bai Lang muttered, then he happily found a basin before him brimming with all sorts of food. He fixed his gaze on the meat cuts—steaks, pork chops, even lamb chops, plus sausages and a handful of lettuce. As for other British fare? Oh, most of it is pig‑like junk; only desserts are tempting—but there are none right now...

The beverage was pumpkin juice. "Damn, if there were beer… whiskey would work too." Bai Lang's remark earned Neville Longbottom, staring from the next table, to ask, "You… have you ever drunk alcohol?" Bai Lang let out a laugh, then kept devouring like a tiger, downing ten pounds of meat cuts before finally gulping the pumpkin juice. Over there, Harry seemed to be talking with Ron to a ghost, Hermione appeared to join, and the ghost even ended up pulling its own head off.

"Your craftsmanship is poor; normally a single axe would have chopped off the head," Bai Lang whispered to Neville Longbottom, who was preoccupied with eating and gave no reply. Clearly, among this cohort of new students, Harry Potter is the central figure, while Bai Lang has become self‑isolated, a peripheral wizard. The only thing that draws attention is his wand, now resting on the table.

The students here are quite proper; no one touched Bai Lang's wand without his permission. After the meat was finished, the food and scraps vanished, the basin became spotless, and then a plethora of desserts and assorted ice creams appeared. The young wizards began discussing their families and what happened after receiving their letters, while Bai Lang said nothing and just ate ravenously, as if a starving ghost reborn.

They talked, but Bai Lang didn't catch a single sentence until Neville Longbottom gave him a nudge, "Hey, Lang En, what about you?" Bai Lang swallowed the dessert, "Ah, this is nothing; I'm an orphan like Potter. But my family left a trust fund, I get about ten thousand pounds a year… um, roughly two thousand galleons?" Neville Longbottom's eyes lit up, and the others who heard also expressed amazement—of course they're all new students. "He's really rich."

A pure income of ten thousand pounds is indeed a very good income in today's Britain. And Bai Lang is on his own, which makes it even better.

The beverage was pumpkin juice. "Damn, if there were beer… whiskey would work too." Bai Lang's remark earned Neville Longbottom, staring from the next table, to ask, "You… have you ever drunk alcohol?" Bai Lang let out a laugh, then kept devouring like a tiger, downing ten pounds of meat cuts before finally gulping the pumpkin juice. Over there, Harry seemed to be talking with Ron to a ghost, Hermione appeared to join, and the ghost even ended up pulling its own head off.

Furthermore, caretaker Mr. Filch wants me to remind everyone not to practice magic in the corridors during breaks. The Quidditch players' selection will be held in the second week of this term. Students who wish to join the house team should contact Mrs. Hooch. Finally, I must tell you, anyone who does not want to suffer an accident or a painful death, please do not enter the right‑hand corridor on the fourth floor. Only Harry Potter laughed.

Then came the school‑song chorus that proved the old man's mind was fuzzy; Bai Lang sang off‑key a few times, which wasn't surprising, and the Weasley brothers were the rowdiest, turning the funeral march into a tune and singing it to the end, earning the headmaster's admiration. Bai Lang trailed behind the group of young wizards, following the prefect—another Weasley—and followed Percy into the Gryffindor common room. "Remember the password, dragon scum," he said to a massive portrait of a stout woman, and the woman moved, the painting sliding aside to reveal a passage behind it.

After climbing in, it was the common lounge, with a massive fireplace and many plush sofas. When the dormitories were assigned, Bai Lang, being an odd number, luckily got a single room—among five beds he was the only occupant. His luggage was already set, and when Bai Lang stood at the window he saw his owl outside watching him. "Bubo, you really are trustworthy." Bai Lang pulled out a large handful of owl food, letting the bird eat heartily.

He then took a shower, changed into nightclothes, climbed onto the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Bai Lang woke up early; his dorm was just him. He happily faced the rising sun to 'draw Qi' and also performed a set of body‑moving punches, thinking, 'Cultivation will need another method; since this school has 'accepted' me, the so‑called 'magic' must be some manifestation of power I can wield, so it's simple—research how to use it and how to cultivate.'

He finished washing, put on his robe, and certainly didn't want to wear that so‑called hat, so he shoved it haphazardly into his chest and headed downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. This broken place has one hundred and forty‑two moving staircases, and Bai Lang now has no idea of their patterns; he'd be laughed at if he got lost. He was almost among the first to reach the hall—purely because Bai Lang's daring allowed him to jump down a staircase.

After finishing a typical English breakfast, the first class on the timetable was, of course, 'Transfiguration!' taught by their headmistress Professor McGonagall. Bai Lang had some thoughts on the so‑called Animagus; to him it might be a way of projecting an inner form outward. Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor sat beside Bai Lang, while Harry and Ron had not yet arrived by class time. On the podium there was a cat, and when Bai Lang entered it was right there.

When Harry and Ron rushed in, relieved that Professor McGonagall hadn't arrived yet, the cat leapt up and transformed directly into Professor McGonagall, prompting the young wizards to gasp.

After critiquing Harry and the others, Professor McGonagall explained the subtle intricacies of Transfiguration, 'This is a profound magical art; now let us open the textbook…' It contained spells and wand motions, but this gave Bai Lang a bit of a dilemma—how should he wield his wand?