Chapter 152: Mr. Li Ao

Opening the guest bedroom door, Harry saw a stern-faced Eastern man, neat wrinkles and gray-white hair clearly showing he was no longer young.

"Zhang Ji, I heard you wanted to speak with me." He spoke English with a heavy Yingzhou accent, so it did not trigger TARDIS's translation magic, which made Harry feel excruciating.

"Just call me Miss." Zhang Qiu leaned lazily against the bed, speaking coolly.

Dr. Doudou walked into the room from behind Li Ao, winked at Harry, then pulled him to sit farther away.

Harry guessed something—perhaps because Zhang Qiu said she couldn't stay long, Dr. Doudou had returned to an earlier time to invite Mr. Li Ao ahead of schedule.

"Of course, Miss Zhang." Li Ao pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Do you always speak so harshly to everyone?" Zhang Qiu half-closed her eyes. "Or do you have some grievance against me or Xuan Jun?"

"Xuan Jun? I do hate him." Li Ao spoke without hesitation. "No Shōwa man would like him."

Harry tugged at the doctor's sleeve. "What are they talking about?"

"Yingzhou was once an independent nation, but it was annexed by Tianchao under Xuan Jun's manipulation," the doctor whispered. "Their last state name was Shōwa."

"Alright." Harry shrugged helplessly.

"But today I'm not here to discuss those things. We're on British soil—no need to dwell on Eastern old grievances." Zhang Qiu shook her head lightly. "I want to know why you came to Neville's house."

"Just seeking refuge." Li Ao snorted. "Ge Xuan is purging wizards who resisted him, so I left Yingzhou. Now I'm just hiding at a friend's house."

"Were you friends with Neville's grandmother when you were young?" Zhang Qiu asked curiously.

"Indeed." He nodded. "But I originally only planned to stay briefly. Then I noticed Neville's situation—I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

"Why?" Zhang Qiu truly cared deeply about this, but her tone remained casual.

"Voldemort—a dictator a hundred times more cruel than Xuan Jun—will destroy this place. Neville is one of only two who can defeat him." Li Ao's calm voice carried suppressed passion. "I will do everything I can to protect Britain. I've long regarded it as my second homeland."

"You speak strangely…" Zhang Qiu murmured. "Who taught you this way of talking?"

"I have no obligation to tell you." The rugged old man suddenly grew uneasy.

"Your English name is Leo, right? Then what's your surname? Or if you use it as a surname, what's your given name?" Zhang Qiu flipped through her notebook. "I haven't even found your real name yet…"

"Enough!" He angrily cut her off. "You can investigate all you want—but don't expect me to tell you anything!"

"Alright." After a brief pause, Zhang Qiu swiftly changed the subject. "Let's talk about Neville instead. He's doing excellently now—I'm sure that's closely tied to your teaching."

"Not entirely." Li Ao's tone softened slightly. "I only taught him the responsibilities befitting a man, some general knowledge, and combat techniques."

"Then," Zhang Qiu asked thoughtfully, "Neville's Time Acceleration Spell—wasn't that taught by you?"

"Not exactly. To be precise, I once saw a book that described a series of speed-related spells, but only those with true talent could master one of them."

"That's good enough." Zhang Qiu suddenly exhaled in relief. "So your main teaching focus is close-combat magic?"

"You know well that most Tianchao wizards fight this way." Li Ao dismissed it. "But British wizards use wands as their primary focus, so Neville must rely on his fists."

"He still has Gryffindor's Sword," Zhang Qiu added.

"True, but more importantly, don't over-rely on spells." Li Ao said. "You should know—the effects of spells differ from reality. Spells are always secondary. The only truly reliable weapon is your own fist."

"The effects of spells differ from reality?" Harry couldn't help interrupting, puzzled.

"You know about the miraculous healing power of Wiggenweld Potion, right?" Li Ao spoke kindly to Harry. "Then why do so many Muggles still die from blood loss every year?"

Harry froze. He had never thought of that.

"Because Wiggenweld only heals wounds caused by spells. Purely physical injuries cannot be cured by it." Li Ao said. "The world is strange like that—magic belongs to magic, science to science. They rarely intersect."

"That's the principle I've always believed in," Li Ao declared loudly. "An opponent killed by spells may be revived by spells. The most reliable method is always to cut off their head yourself."

"But you still need to break their Iron Shield Charm first," Dr. Doudou shrugged. "I don't judge your fighting style—just that we have different understandings."

"That's trivial," Zhang Qiu defused the tension. "By the way, Mr. Li Ao, do you know what Neville has been doing at school?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." He feigned indifference. "A man must sometimes face his enemies alone."

Li Ao had tried his best to appear indifferent, but an elder's concern for a child cannot be hidden.

Zhang Qiu smiled and pulled a golden ring from her storage pouch.

"Thank you, Mr. Li Ao," she said. "Though we disagree on some historical matters, the past is past. Xuan Jun's wish to protect Britain is the same as yours. On this land, please accept our goodwill."

"A ruby ring shaped like a lion—you've investigated me, haven't you?" Li Ao, unusually flustered, said. "I'm an old man now. Let Xuan Jun's kindness go to Neville."

"Then I must continue my journey," Zhang Qiu said, unusually light and even playful. "Thank you for everything you've done for this second homeland."

Before the old man could show his embarrassment, Dr. Doudou quickly said goodbye, pulled Harry into the closet, and in a rush of wind, the closet returned to its original form.

"Doctor, I wanted to ask this earlier." Though Harry had many questions, he picked one Dr. Doudou could likely answer. "Why do Tianchao wizards use magic swords while we use wands? What's the difference?"

"Oh, that," Dr. Doudou replied slowly. "Wands are made of materials that maximize magical transmission and enhance spell effects—something magic swords cannot do."

"Besides, during the Middle Ages, when wizards were persecuted by the Church, they preferred concealable magical tools. That's how wands became common." Dr. Doudou continued. "Nowadays, you can hold a wand in one hand while freely switching secondary weapons—sword or pistol, even a riot shield in the left hand. Very flexible."

"True. I'll have to ask Zhang Qiu later why Tianchao wizards prefer magic swords." Harry thought for a moment and found wands clearly superior, struggling to understand the point of magic swords.

"Well, I know a bit about that," the doctor said. "It's said Tianchao's Unseen Extension Charm isn't widespread, and their wizards prefer living on steep mountains. To avoid carrying sword, wand, and broom separately, they invented the magic sword—usable for slashing, casting spells, and even flying on. It sacrifices some performance in each function, but the integration offers great convenience—like a Swiss Army knife."

"Oh, we're here." The doctor stopped the machine. The screen read: Valentine's Day, second year. "Why is Zhang Qiu here?" As usual, Harry slipped on his invisibility cloak and quietly approached the door.

He had barely opened the door when a warm body slammed into his arms. Then Zhang Qiu spun around and slammed the door shut.

"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed belatedly. "I just wanted to hide in a closet—how did you end up here? Where is this?"

Harry's head appeared, looking like a lone floating head in midair.

"This is Dr. Doudou's time machine—it's called TARDIS." Harry explained. "By the way, how did you know it was me?"

"I know you're tracking my travels," Zhang Qiu shrugged. "And if I bump into an invisible person about my height in this school, I'd naturally suspect you first."

"Then what's this stop about? Who are you hiding from?" Curious, Harry peered through the door crack.

He saw his younger self holding a fainted Valentine's Day angel, staring confusedly at the crowded hallway.

"Oh right—this is the Valentine's card you wrote me last year." Harry paused. "Are you here to track down the person who cast the Forgetfulness Charm on the angel, preventing me from reading your card?"

"I cast the Forgetfulness Charm," Zhang Qiu blushed, breathing heavily. "The card was poorly written."

"I thought it was fine. You don't know what I went through that day." Harry shuddered at the memory of Ginny's, Ivy's, and Colin's cards.

"Anyway, I'll rewrite it—maybe in sixth year, or—" Zhang Qiu's words cut off as her entire body flickered, then her face twisted in terror.

"Oh no!" Dr. Doudou rushed to the controls. "We have to move fast—she can't stay here—"