With over 30,000 points in hand, Wayne felt reasonably confident—especially since this draw guaranteed a legendary-tier reward.
As long as the prize was a skill, he could definitely deliver.
Brimming with anticipation, he immediately invested 10,000 points.
Luck was on his side today—by the eighth ten-draw, a diamond-glowing card appeared.
After fusing a pile of purple-tier materials and several spells, Wayne nervously clicked open the grand prize.
"How am I going to get through this... It's all up to you now."
The mirror shattered, and the diamond dust transformed into a streak of light that vanished into his forehead. Wayne closed his eyes, straining to digest the vast amount of information contained within.
Half an hour passed, then an hour...
A full three hours later, deep into the night with a bright moon and sparse stars, the young man slowly opened his eyes. A strange, glazed-coloured light flickered within them before fading back to normal.
A faint voice echoed through the empty room.
"Innate mastery governs the celestial cycle, encompassing all its variations, transforming me into its sovereign."
Wayne spoke these words in flawless Chinese.
The 'innate' referred to the Hetu and Luoshu, while the 'celestial cycle' denoted the Zhouyi—both extraordinary texts that elucidated the grand principles of heaven and earth.
The legendary-tier reward Wayne had drawn was now unmistakably clear.
The Eight Extraordinary Techniques—Feng Hou's Qimen.
By perceiving and mastering the variations of the celestial cycle, one could ultimately become its ruler, achieving great freedom of both mind and power. It was a mystical art coveted above all else by practitioners.
As a wizard, Wayne typically cast spells using magical power as his source of energy, rarely borrowing the forces of nature.
Unless, of course, he was invoking the Thunderlord's Decree or wielding abilities inherited from the Star Forger.
But Feng Hou's Qimen was different. The power within him served merely as a catalyst, using it to trigger celestial variations and manipulate the natural forces within a certain range.
I am the direction. I am fortune and misfortune.
Pushing open the window, Wayne flew straight out of the room and landed by the lakeside where he often practised his spells.
With a light raise of his hand, an invisible Bagua diagram centred on him unfolded, covering a radius of roughly fifty metres.
At this moment, the world in Wayne's eyes had transformed. Countless strange symbols emerged, the Taiji rotated, and glazed light swirled within his pupils before settling into a flash of enlightenment.
"So that's how it is..."
Though Feng Hou's Qimen was hyped as incredibly powerful, its performance in a certain old-school action series hadn't quite reached what he considered legendary-tier in his estimation.
But experiencing it firsthand, Wayne realised how narrow his perspective had been.
That was merely the limit of Wang Ye and Zhou Sheng—not the limit of the technique itself.
The same held true now. Having just absorbed the knowledge of Feng Hou's Qimen, he could currently only control fortune and misfortune within fifty metres. As he deepened his study, the range would naturally expand, and his mastery would strengthen.
As for its ultimate limits... he was still far from glimpsing them.
"At least I can turn in something now..." Wayne sighed in relief, dispersing the Bagua diagram. The weight on his mind finally lifted.
Drawing such a high-potential spell was certainly cause for celebration, but with Feng Hou's Qimen as his excuse, he had finally cleared this hurdle.
Seizing the momentum of his luck, Wayne decisively performed another eighty consecutive draws.
Among the purple cards, not a single rune talent appeared. Even with the increased odds, as more talents were acquired and fewer remained, the probability had gradually become lower than that of gold cards.
After absorbing the conventional spells and improving his proficiency, Wayne turned to the gold cards.
[Pretty Boy (A): Greatly enhances charm, enchanting all beings—henceforth, you'll eat soft rice with hard teeth.]
Wayne's face darkened.
Did he even need this now?
The Witch's Heart was already troublesome enough, and now he got another similar talent.
Did they think he had a weak stomach?
Out of sight, out of mind. Wayne closed the system panel and flew back to the cabin.
He found Gardevoir had heard the commotion and had come to check on him.
Wayne smiled and explained, "I just learned a new spell and couldn't resist trying it out. Nothing's wrong, you should go back and rest."
What puzzled Wayne was that Gardevoir remained rooted to the spot, her face slightly flushed.
"Gardevoir?" he called tentatively.
"Gardevoir!"
Only then did Gardevoir snap out of it, too shy to meet her master's gaze.
Realising what was happening, Wayne quickly deactivated his "Pretty Boy" trait. Gardevoir immediately seemed more at ease, nodding obediently before leaving the room.
Wayne sighed in exasperation.
He did adore little Gardevoir, but not in that way.
Bloody trait...
...
Thursday morning.
At seven o'clock sharp, Wayne got out of bed, washed up, and prepared to go for breakfast with his two roommates.
Toby and Norman were still discussing their dreams from last night.
"I dreamt I became the school champion!" Norman said rapturously. "After becoming champion, it was like I had cheats—I won easily and got three thousand Galleons as prize money."
"Oh? What was the first task then?" Wayne asked absentmindedly, still groggy from lack of sleep.
"The first task..." Norman thought for a moment before declaring confidently, "All seven competitors had to knock out Snape as quickly as possible. The fastest would win first place."
Cedric, who happened to be leaving the dorm just then, overheard and asked with a laugh, "So how did you come first? I'd like to know for when I become champion."
Norman pointed at Toby. "I just made Snape drink Toby's potion, and he passed out immediately."
Wayne gave a thumbs-up. "Brilliant."
Now that was a properly reasoned, convincing dream.
Toby's potions really weren't fit for human consumption.
The group chatted and laughed as they exited through the barrel door, only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of two beauties—one tall, one petite—waiting outside.
"Big brother!" Gabrielle called sweetly, letting go of her sister's hand to throw herself at Wayne. She clambered up his body with practised ease and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Gabrielle, Fleur, you're here so early?" Wayne supported the little girl to keep her from slipping, his expression puzzled.
"Big sister was afraid if we came late, you'd run off with some other girl," Gabrielle blurted out innocently, immediately betraying her sister.
Fleur's smile froze, her embarrassment palpable.
"We'll be going now," Cedric said with a hollow belch, numbly dragging Toby and Norman away while weeping internally.
This was too much. They hadn't even had breakfast yet, and were already being force-fed dog food at the door.
"Shall we go too?" Wayne took Fleur's delicate hand to ease her discomfort. "Did you sleep well last night? Was everything alright?"
"Not really. The bed was rather hard," Fleur shook her head gently. "Hogwarts is so cold—I still can't get used to it."
"I've got a thermostat here. You can take it back to your dorm later."
"Speaking of which, I've never seen your dorm. How many people share a room?"
"Two. It's just right for looking after Gabrielle."
As she spoke, Fleur suddenly found her little sister rather in the way and lifted Gabrielle down. "You're too big to be carried around by Wayne," she said.
Under the little girl's indignant stare, Fleur promptly wrapped her arms around Wayne's, snuggling close to him.
Whether intentional or not, their intimate posture coincided perfectly with their entrance into the Great Hall.
Instantly, hundreds of eyes turned towards them.
The light in Hermione, Cho and Astoria's eyes dimmed simultaneously.
Cassandra's fork bent with a snap, while Sakura's knife scraped sharply across the table.
This is bad, Wayne thought grimly. Their early appearance together would undoubtedly be misinterpreted by Hermione and the others.
With an exasperated tap on Fleur's forehead, he managed to placate the girls with explanations – even dragging Gabrielle over as a witness – before the crisis was averted.
Astoria and Gabrielle stared each other down, mutual hostility radiating between them.
Two adorable creatures had met their match.
Wayne found himself ushered to the Beauxbatons table, where many students greeted him with smiles. Having encountered numerous participants during the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship, he shared nodding acquaintances here.
Seated beside Fleur, he meticulously sliced sausages onto her plate while muttering through gritted teeth:
"Trying to get me killed, are you? Orchestrating this spectacle."
Fleur arched her eyebrows triumphantly. "I merely entered with you. Their overactive imaginations aren't my fault."
Her expression then morphed into wounded innocence. "If only you'd chosen Beauxbatons, we wouldn't have these fleeting reunions."
"Save the theatrics," Wayne remarked dryly, completely unfooled by her silver waterfall of hair.
Where Astoria's ahoge served as an emotional barometer, Fleur's tresses possessed their own peculiar magic – dimming when displeased, shimmering when joyful.
Currently, her hair practically blinded him with radiance. Definitely feigned.
"No repeats," Wayne stated calmly, prompting Fleur's smile to falter slightly, her silver locks losing some lustre.
"Understood. Just teasing them. I'd never truly inconvenience you." Recognising his seriousness, Fleur abandoned further mischief.
Occasional playful tantrums spiced their dynamic, but overstepping risked alienation – a truth Fleur, Hermione and Cho all comprehended.
Astoria might not have grasped it, yet she remained the most compliant.
All parties being rational, having accepted the impossibility of monopolising this philandering rogue, their grievances stayed within controlled bounds.
Satisfied with Fleur's subdued demeanour, Wayne shifted topics to her curriculum. Unlike Hogwarts, sixth and seventh years at other institutions enjoyed complete elective freedom – one could attend all classes or none.
"Herbology is essential. Professor Sprout ranks among the world's foremost botanical masters."
"Potions class... never mind. Our Potions professor is competent, but unpleasant. If you want to learn, come to me. I'll tutor you."
Snape, who happened to be passing by, felt his good mood for the day evaporate instantly. With a dark expression, he bellowed, "Slandering a professor! Hufflepuff loses..."
At the same moment, Professor Sprout at the High Table and Wayne both turned to look at him.
Snape's voice faltered. After struggling internally, he finally spat out, "Five points!"
Then he stormed off, seething with rage.
This is unbearable. That damn boy is worse than the Dark Lord himself!
Even docking points gets interfered with!
"Don't mind him. Let's continue." Watching Snape's resentful retreating figure, Wayne shook his head and resumed analysing courses with Fleur.
"Alchemy's unnecessary, too. Beauxbatons' standard is much higher than Hogwarts'. Astronomy's worth choosing, and Defence Against the Dark Arts is essential. Professor Moody's an outstanding Auror."
"I know." Fleur nodded seriously. Moody's reputation as the strongest Auror carried weight even in France.
"The rest goes without saying. You'd choose Transfiguration and Charms even if I didn't mention them." Wayne set down his quill.
Fleur selected her final two courses and smiled.
"Not too many, leaving time to prepare for the tournament. This works well."
Neither noticed Cassandra at the neighbouring table, who'd overheard their entire conversation, quietly circling two options on her own course selection form.
...
After breakfast, instead of heading straight to class, Wayne made a detour to the Headmaster's Office to give the Sorting Hat a thorough cleaning, then rewarded it with several dragon scales.
"Well done, Sorting Hat. When I become Headmaster, I'll make sure you're properly looked after."
The newly adorned Sorting Hat was delighted, yet still puzzled as it asked, "What have I done to deserve this?"
"Nothing. I just thought you worked too hard during last night's Sorting Ceremony and wanted to show some appreciation."
"You're a good lad, Lawrence!" The Sorting Hat was deeply moved. "That old codger Dumbledore never cares about me. Hurry up and grow up so you can replace him as Headmaster."
"Sure, sure. Let's work hard together and outlast old Dumble."
Man and hat reached an agreement. Seeing that class was about to start, Wayne hurriedly departed.
The portraits of former headmasters on the walls were nearly dying of laughter, with even the Gryffindor headmaster chuckling while calling the Sorting Hat a traitor. The hat showed no fear, engaging in a spirited debate with them all.
Meanwhile, Wayne dashed into Greenhouse Three just before the bell rang. Professor Sprout smiled and gestured for him to find a seat quickly.
Scanning the room, Wayne noticed the class size had nearly doubled, making the greenhouse feel rather crowded.
"Over here." A soft voice called out as Tomoyo waved with a smile.
The boy approached her, asking curiously, "Why are you taking fourth-year classes?"
"If we go by age, I could attend either fourth or fifth year," Tomoyo murmured softly, fiddling with the plants before her. "Headmaster Koga said I could choose freely, so I picked fourth year."
"I'll be in your care from now on."
"No problem at all." Wayne nodded with a grin before focusing on the lesson.
Hermione glanced discreetly at the pair, relieved to find nothing amiss.
Today's lesson introduced a medicinal herb called hydrangea, also known as hortensia. This flower could treat various skin injuries like burns and scalds without leaving scars.
Professor Sprout instructed everyone to carefully assist in pollinating the hydrangeas, emphasising gentle handling. Several students from Uagadou and Castelobruxo, struggling with English, grew frantic until gestures helped them understand.
Tomoyo showed remarkable patience for such delicate work, so Wayne left it entirely to her while spacing out nearby.
Feeling slightly guilty about leaving all the work to her, he quietly asked, "Anywhere you'd like to visit later? I could show you around."
"Well..." The young lady tilted her head. "I'm interested in the whole campus, but one day definitely isn't enough."
"How about trying Gardevoir's cooking first?"
"Absolutely." Wayne vouched confidently. "Then we'll skip the Great Hall for lunch."
The girl smiled faintly and lowered her head.