Sunday morning. The Ravenclaw common room was packed. It wasn't just Ravenclaws; a crowd of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and even a few brave Slytherins had gathered, all buzzing with excitement from the previous night's founding meeting.
"Master Zhang! You're awake!"
"We've been practicing the frequency control, but it's so hard! Can you help?"
Zhang Ming smiled at the eager faces. "Of course. Gather round."
For the next hour, he became a personal coach, moving from student to student, offering pinpoint corrections.
"Your output is fluctuating. Imagine your magic is a steady river, not a bursting dam…"
"Your frequency is too high. Lower the pitch in your mind… yes, like that…"
"Your mental focus is scattered. Practice the meditation technique I taught for thirty minutes daily…"
The results were immediate. Students who had struggled for years felt breakthroughs. The air crackled with the energy of progress.
Suddenly, a golden paper airplane zoomed through the window, landing perfectly in Zhang Ming's hand. It was an official Ministry of Magic missive.
He unfolded it. The message was brief and bureaucratic.
'To Mr. Zhang Ming,
Following concerning reports regarding your activities at Hogwarts, the Department of Magical Education has authorized a routine inquiry.
Investigator Dolores Jane Umbridge will arrive on Tuesday. Your full cooperation is expected.
Sincerely,
Dolores Umbridge, Head, Department of Magical Education'
A cold smile touched Zhang Ming's lips. Right on schedule.
[Alert: Hostile Action Detected]
[Source: Ministry of Magic, Dept. of Magical Education]
[Primary Agent: Dolores Umbridge. Threat Level: High (Ideological Fanatic, Corrupt)]
[Recommendation: Prepare countermeasures.]
"Trouble?" Hermione asked, noticing his expression.
"Nothing we can't handle," Zhang Ming said calmly, pocketing the letter. "The Ministry is sending someone to… ask some questions. On Tuesday."
"Umbridge?!" Ron paled. "I've heard Dad talk about her! She's horrible! All pink and sugary, but she's got a heart of a bloody troll!"
"Precisely why we must be prepared," Zhang Ming said. "If she wants a discussion, we'll have one. If she wants a fight…" His eyes glinted. "...we'll educate her."
The confidence in his voice was infectious. The students around him relaxed. This was Zhang Ming. He'd faced down a mountain troll and humiliated Malfoy mid-flight. A Ministry bureaucrat didn't stand a chance.
That afternoon, in the Room of Requirement, now configured as a advanced training dojo, Zhang Ming faced his core team: Terry, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and a determined Neville.
"Two things," Zhang Ming began. "First, the Ministry investigation. Stay calm. Second, and more importantly, your core member training begins now."
The five leaned forward, eyes alight.
"Today's lesson: True Silent Casting."
A complex schematic appeared in the air. "You know advanced wizards can cast without words. But the 'how' is misunderstood. It's not about 'feeling' it strongly enough. It's about programming."
"Programming?" Hermione echoed, fascinated.
"Exactly. Think of a spell as a set of instructions—a program. The incantation is a crude voice-command interface. The wand is the execution unit. Silent casting is about bypassing the voice command and sending the instructions directly from your mind—your consciousness—to your magic."
"This… 'consciousness', you call it 'Shenshi'? Spiritual Sense?" Terry asked.
"Yes. You've all mastered the basics of 'Neiguan'—Internal Vision. Now, you learn 'Wai Fang'—External Projection. Extend your awareness beyond your body. Feel the magic in the air, in objects. Then, learn to impose your will upon it directly."
He started with Harry. "Close your eyes. Find your magic. Now, don't 'push' it out. Imagine it… spilling over. Like water overflowing a cup."
Harry frowned in concentration. Moments later, a faint, golden aura shimmered around him. "I… I can feel you! All of you! Without opening my eyes!"
"Good. That is Spiritual Sense projection."
One by one, he guided them. Hermione mastered it on her third try. Terry and Neville took ten minutes. Ron struggled the most, his frustration palpable, but after a dozen attempts, a wisp of energy finally flickered around him. "I DID IT!" he yelled, ecstatic.
"Excellent. Now, the application." Zhang Ming stood in the center of the room. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just thought.
Every piece of furniture in the room—chairs, tables, bookshelves—levitated smoothly into the air, hovering perfectly still.
The five stared, dumbfounded.
"This is 'direct programming'," Zhang Ming explained. "I issued a 'Levitation' command to each object simultaneously. Traditional wizards are limited by their need to verbalize one command at a time. We are not."
He let the furniture settle back into place without a sound. "We'll start with Lumos. The simplest 'program'."
He coached Hermione first. "Find your magic. Project your sense to your wand tip. Don't 'say' the word. Thinkthe concept of 'LIGHT'. Command the energy to gather and emit photons here."
Hermione closed her eyes. A moment later, the tip of her wand glowed with a soft, steady light. "I… I didn't say anything! I just… willedit!"
"Perfect. You've compiled the program directly."
Harry was next. On his second try, his wand lit up, the glow even brighter than Hermione's first attempt. "Blimey! It's easier than saying the word!"
Terry, Neville, and Ron took longer, but soon, all five had managed a silent Lumos, their faces lit with triumph.
"This is just the beginning," Zhang Ming said. "Master ten silent spells, and I will teach you true multi-casting."
The training session ended with the core team bursting with excitement and determination. They had glimpsed a new tier of power.
Alone in the room, Zhang Ming activated the [Myriad Celestial Mechanism]'s surveillance function. A window materialized, showing Dolores Umbridge in her Ministry office, a vision in sickly pink, reviewing a file on him. Her toad-like face was set in a smug, cruel smile.
'…Eastern… foreign… spreading dangerous, unapproved ideas… requires proper corrective guidance…'she muttered, writing on a parchment. Zhang Ming zoomed in on her notes.
'Action Plan: 1. Charge: Spreading hazardous ideologies. Action: Cease all teaching. 2. Charge: Operating an unsanctioned organization. Action: Dissolve 'Science Cultivation Club'. 3. Charge: Contempt for Ministry authority. Action: Probation. 4. If non-compliant: Immediate expulsion, notify Aurors for arrest.'
Zhang Ming chuckled. How… predictable. She's already written the verdict. She doesn't want an inquiry; she wants a purge.
[New Quest: Survive the Ministry Inquisition]
[Objective: Protect the Science and Cultivation Research Club's legitimacy.]
[Suggested Approach: Reason with the reasonable. Educate the ignorant. Crush the malicious.]
"Two can play at that game," Zhang Ming murmured. He began his preparations. Meticulous legal arguments citing Hogwarts' charter and educational freedoms. Dumbledore's written endorsement. And… a more direct contingency plan.
He drew his flying sword, Soaring Cloud. A thread of spiritual energy caressed the blade, which hummed in response. If reason fails, we'll speak a language even a toad can understand.
That evening in the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy, emboldened by the news of the investigation, decided to test the waters. "Heard the Ministry's finally cleaning up the trash!" he announced loudly, looking pointedly at the Gryffindor table. "About time some people were put in their place!"
Ron shot up, red-faced, but before he could speak, Zhang Ming was already moving.
The hall fell silent as Zhang Ming walked calmly to the Slytherin table. He didn't shout. He didn't even look angry. But an immense, invisible pressure seemed to radiate from him.
"Draco," Zhang Ming said, his voice quiet but cutting through the silence. "I received your father's message. Thank him for me. It saves me the trouble of inviting the Ministry myself."
Draco's smirk vanished, replaced by panic. "How did you—? I mean, I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Of course you don't," Zhang Ming said, a cold smile playing on his lips. "But let me be clear. The Ministry's investigation is a triviality. When it's over, I will still be here. My club will still stand."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only Draco could hear. "But you… you will learn the cost of trying to stab me in the back. This isn't a threat. It's a prediction."
He straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the petrified Slytherins. "I am not Professor Dumbledore. My patience has limits. Cross me again, and a warning will be the least of your concerns."
He turned and walked away, leaving a deathly quiet hall and a thoroughly terrified Draco Malfoy in his wake.
At the staff table, Snape watched, his face unreadable. "He's playing a dangerous game, Albus. Provoking Lucius like that."
"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "I believe he's simply stating the rules of hisgame. And I, for one, cannot wait to see how Dolores enjoys playing it."