Chapter 523: Mr. Snake

The end-of-term banquet proceeded as usual; thanks to their Quidditch dynasty, Gryffindor once again won the House Cup, and the children cheered and leapt, but Harry found it all too noisy.

He felt like an outsider, a passerby watching everything slip away from him; when the sun rose the next day, he would no longer be a student at Hogwarts—even though he could still return to the familiar campus, those familiar days were gone forever.

On his final night at Hogwarts, Harry lay in bed reflecting on seven years of memories; he did not deny having participated in or forged many legends, but beneath the dark red curtains of this grand bed, all he recalled were the joyful moments on campus—he truly felt regret, for he had intended this year to fully savor school life, yet had let outside matters steal his time. Alas, one could never get enough of school!

The next day, Harry boarded the platform with heavy heart, dragging his trunk, when Zhang Qiu appeared in a beautiful light-colored long dress, waiting for him early. In that moment, Harry forgot his nostalgia for the school and began to dream of the life ahead.

“Say, Harry, we’re heading back to Tang Dun first, right?” Zhang Qiu said as they got into the car. “My father came.”

“Oh?”

“Master still hasn’t emerged from seclusion. I truly don’t know what he’s doing, but…” she said with a touch of sadness, “he won’t be attending our wedding. I can only try to spend this time getting closer to my long-absent biological father.”

“Then should we,” Harry started to suggest postponing something, but the words died in his throat, “oh, perhaps there’s no help for it.”

“After all, Xuan Jun’s situation is unusual. For those who see him as a rival—say, Yanayev—” Harry mentioned a conclusion he’d once worried over, “Yanayev knows he can’t defeat Xuan Jun inside Tianchao, so he’ll surely seek any opportunity to strike when Xuan Jun leaves Tianchao—though I think he’s not that mad, I still can’t be 100% certain no one will cause chaos at our wedding.”

“Exactly, that annoying fellow,” Zhang Qiu nodded. “But I don’t think it’s because of that. Before I left, I met my father—he’s completely changed from last time. Maybe something major is happening back home.”

Soon, Harry saw firsthand the striking change in Mr. Zhang Wei: last time he came, his face was heavy with worry, fretting over this and that, like a clueless commoner. This time, he radiated unparalleled confidence from within.

“Hello, long time no see,” Harry smiled and stepped forward to shake his hand. “Mr. Smith, welcome—”

“Hey!” Zhang Wei cut him off. “I think Smith as an English name is too ordinary. Now call me Snake, sssss!”

Harry suddenly felt this change… didn’t seem like a healthy one.

“Harry, young man, looking sharp,” Mr. Snake beamed. “Unbelievable! Everyone calls you General Potter, General! You never told me!”

“I can say for sure that Qiu will finally have a good life—and I’ll benefit too. I should’ve relaxed sooner,” he blurted without waiting for Harry’s reply. “Times are different now. I always said, the mighty Tianchao doesn’t marry off a daughter often—yes, Qiu is a princess now. How delightful!”

“That’s certainly joyful,” Harry agreed. Seeing Zhang Qiu smiling without speaking, he asked, “So, are you staying briefly—or—”

“Hmm, I’ll be living in London from now on,” Mr. Snake said. “The dowry entourage is enormous, and there’s a lot to coordinate. I may not be much help, but for ceremonial occasions, I won’t let civil officials represent the bride’s family. So I’ll be here permanently.”

When speaking of serious matters, Harry noticed his tone had returned to normal.

“I think our date is mostly settled,” Zhang Qiu interjected. “Currently, it’s July 26th.”

Harry scratched his head. He thought the preparation time was far too short.

“Of course, this is a meticulously chosen auspicious day,” Mr. Snake boasted. “We’ve even calculated the dowry convoy’s schedule: we ensure the first group arrives early to help you set up, and the last group arrives precisely the day before the wedding—no delays. Ah, I dare say this is the largest project the Ministry of Rites has undertaken in years—who would’ve thought half the ministry would mobilize just for my daughter’s wedding!”

Harry asked nervously: “So, what do I need to do?”

“Nothing,” Zhang Qiu shrugged. “We don’t have to do anything. Lin Shuanghe will handle everything. At most, you’ll just need to familiarize yourself with the ceremony on the 25th.”

“Yes, I’m grateful Harry’s a foreigner,” Mr. Snake shook his head. “You don’t have to learn all those tedious rituals. Ha! Let anyone who complains about the collapse of rites and music stew in their own anger.”

Handing everything over to the dowry team did seem irresponsible—but it was incredibly easy. Harry and Sirius quickly accepted this reality, comforting each other, since the old knight had handed everything off to them too.

In the days leading up to the 26th, Harry and Zhang Qiu lived together in Tang Dun, while Mr. Snake stayed in the guest room, spending most of his days reading popular novels or watching TV shows, as if on vacation. Yet Harry still gleaned some insights into Tianchao through casual chats with him.

In public perception, Xuan Jun had always been in seclusion, and the hardliners’ grip on power was an ongoing reality. The last time Zhang Qiu returned home to witness Xuan Jun’s political tug-of-war with senior officials, it was essentially a brief, tightly controlled meeting known only to a few.

Of course, for the Muggle world or overall state policy, the meeting wasn’t significant—it was merely a secret consensus between Xuan Jun and the hardliners. But for Xuan Jun himself, or for Harry and Zhang Qiu who tracked his movements, it was deeply intriguing: if Xuan Jun had already refined the power of fate, why continue his seclusion? What was he doing in there?

To reverse-engineer this, one must deeply understand their actions in the Muggle world and analyze which were driven by clear external reasons, and which might relate to Ge Xuan’s new grand plan. The foremost issue here was their unusual withdrawal: after repelling and pushing back the South Asian nations’ invasion, Tianchao chose to retreat all forces and return to its pre-war borders.

“Our border demarcation is extremely strict—each kilometer must have at least one boundary marker,” Mr. Snake said. “And everyone deeply accepts the ‘Chinese Autumn Begonia Leaf’ metaphor. If we sacrifice the overall shape’s beauty for a bit of useless land, it’s not worth it.”

This was indeed strange, but upon closer thought, perhaps not so strange: Ge Xuan had always intended to conduct institutional experiments within a closed system, so planting this concept in the people’s minds early made sense. Tianchao’s people held an ingrained obsession with territorial certainty—neither more nor less was acceptable—leading them to willingly abandon conquered lands.

But if that’s true, why did the hardliners launch this expansionist war? When Harry first spoke with Lin Shuanghe before the war, he clearly sensed the hardliners’ primary goal was territorial expansion. If the border shape was truly unchangeable, they had no reason to provoke conflict.

Zhang Qiu offered the explanation of [officers craving battlefield glory], but Harry’s instinct told him Xuan Jun’s true purpose lay hidden beneath this. He speculated that Xuan Jun’s temporary emergence was precisely to halt the hardliners’ expansion—something he planned was deeply tied to the border, and he’d already invested great effort in establishing national territorial consensus among the people. He didn’t want the hardliners to accidentally destroy this layout.

Yet no matter how hard Harry imagined, he couldn’t grasp the deeper meaning behind Ge Xuan’s border-focused strategy. He could only continue pondering Ge Xuan’s other actions. The fact that his and Zhang Qiu’s wedding had escalated from simple mutual affection to a princess’s marriage was itself unusual. Or rather, Ge Xuan’s indulgence of his disciple wasn’t odd—but his decision not to attend the wedding himself, instead sending his biological father—who barely knew Zhang Qiu—was strange.

Moreover, from several exchanges with Lin Shuanghe, Harry learned Tianchao had packed many dissidents and liberal reformers into the dowry entourage and shipped them off to Britain—essentially political exile. So was Ge Xuan merely bolstering Zhang Qiu’s status, or was he using the wedding as an excuse to purge opponents? Given his overwhelming power, why use such a mild form of exile? That too was a curious anomaly.

And still, Harry didn’t understand: was the alien theory truly just a ridiculous prank he’d played on Donald?

Until the day of the wedding on July 26th, Harry still hadn’t guessed Ge Xuan’s intentions. He decided to set aside his doubts and enjoy the beautiful moments of his life—he could study Ge Xuan’s schemes later.

Yet even this, he guessed wrong.