Wang Yong stepped up to an idle goblin and couldn't help but scrutinize him curiously, his gaze lingering on the creature's head—clearly larger than that of an ordinary human. He said, "I'd like to withdraw some money from my vault."
Then, he pulled a small golden key from his pocket.
The goblin took the key and examined it carefully.
Off to the side, another goblin was weighing a ruby the size of a glowing coal. The wealth of the wizarding world was beyond imagination.
Though, it wasn't all that surprising. The magical world, while hidden within the Muggle world, was something the latter could do nothing to resist. There might be rules against exploitation, but enforcement seemed half-hearted at best. Even Aurors from the Ministry of Magic only targeted wizarding crimes. As long as no major incidents were stirred up, the Ministry probably wouldn't bat an eye. In just that brief moment, countless thoughts raced through Wang Yong's mind.
"No problem," the goblin said, handing the key back to him.
"Someone escort them to the vault. Griphook!"
Wang Yong glanced at the well-known goblin, who didn't appear much different from the others—ashen-yellow skin, spindly fingers, and black eyes just like his own.
Griphook opened a door for the two of them. Wang Yong took Susan's hand. Before them stretched a narrow stone corridor, lit by burning torches. The damp floor glistened with streaks of water.
A steep decline led them downward to a narrow rail track.
Griphook whistled sharply, and a small minecart came barreling down the tracks toward them. The two climbed in.
At first, the cart sped along twisting, maze-like tunnels, turning left, right, then back again—the passageways were maddeningly complex. The cart clattered along as though it had a mind of its own; Griphook didn't even need to steer it.
It reminded Wang Yong of the cold monorails from the Dark Tower—just as deep, just as endless. But unlike the tower's lifeless void, here the air was still thick with the breath of life.
The speed seemed to frighten Susan a little. She pressed tightly against Wang Yong, who wrapped his robe around her, letting her bury her small head safely against his chest.
Cold wind whipped past, stinging Wang Yong's eyes, but he forced them open. Once, at the far end of a tunnel, he thought he saw a burst of flame—he turned, hoping to glimpse a dragon. But it was too late. They'd already plunged deeper underground. Clearly, there were dragons in Gringotts, but today, luck wasn't on his side.
They passed an underground lake, massive stalactites and stalagmites hanging down and rising up like the fangs of some buried beast.
Wang Yong was awestruck by the vast scale of this subterranean marvel. He couldn't help but marvel at the power of the magical world—it reshaped how he saw everything.
At last, the minecart screeched to a halt before a small door in the tunnel wall. As Susan stepped out, she immediately clung to Wang Yong.
"Next time… don't bring me to the vault again," she whispered, her face pale as paper.
Wang Yong gently stroked her flaxen hair. "I won't."
Griphook unlocked the door. A thick green mist spilled out. Once it cleared—
Wang Yong let out a quiet sigh of relief. There wasn't a mountain of gold like the legendary treasures passed down in old wizarding families. But there were still a few neat piles. Enough Galleons to count for something.
Still, it was far from sufficient for his future plans and research. He would have to find other ways to fund himself.
He filled a small pouch with coins and stepped out.
The return journey brought them out of the dark tunnels and back to the brightness above.
Outside, at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Wang Yong bought Susan an enormous sundae that changed colors. Her pale cheeks slowly regained a rosy hue under the warm sun and the sweetness of the treat. With a satisfied little tongue, she licked the ice cream as she followed behind Wang Yong, watching him buy all sorts of things.
He went first to Flourish and Blotts and picked up the standard first-year textbooks: Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, Magical Theory by Bathilda Bagshot, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.
Wang Yong stood before a towering bookshelf for some time, before finally selecting an extra title—A Concise Guide to Legendary Artifacts.
These were the foundational texts needed to truly understand the magical world.
Next, he stopped at the apothecary to pick up ingredients for basic potion-making.
Finally, they arrived at the shadowy Eeylops Owl Emporium, where Wang Yong bought a yellow owl that was fast asleep with its head tucked under its wing.
"All right," he said. "I'll call you—Kitten."
A pet owl named Kitten.
Susan looked on, clearly envious.
Wang Yong patted her head. "Want one for your birthday?"
Susan hesitated, then turned her head away. "Better not."
With a chuckle, Wang Yong offered, "How about something from the Magical Menagerie instead? You're allowed to bring a toad, an owl, or a cat to school."
Susan wrinkled her nose in thought. "Forget the toad. You already have an owl. I'll get a cat."
Decision made.
When they emerged from the cramped, noisy shop, Susan was beaming as she held a little black-and-white kitten in her arms.
All that remained now… was the wand.
The final store was small and shabby, its golden sign nearly worn away. It read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
In the dusty display window, resting alone on a faded purple cushion, was a single wand.
As they stepped inside, the soft jingle of bells rang from somewhere in the back. The shop was tiny, with little more than a bench inside. Thousands of narrow wand boxes towered all the way to the ceiling. Sunlight streamed in through the front window, catching the dust in a gentle glow—it felt silent, solemn, steeped in ancient magic.
"Good afternoon," came a soft voice.
A loud crack interrupted the quiet. The speaker jumped to his feet from the bench.
An old man now stood before them, his pale, wide eyes gleaming like twin moons in the dim shop.
"Hello," Wang Yong greeted stiffly.
"Wang Yong, is it?" the old man said. "Here for your school wand? A little early, perhaps—but it's never too soon to start learning."
"I remember your parents. They came from faraway China. Their wands followed a different tradition from ours. They preferred peachwood, dragon heartstring… some even favored wandless magic. Though of course, it adds many layers of complexity, doesn't it?"
"Mm." Wang Yong knew nothing about the Chinese magical world, so he only responded with a vague sound.