When Baelon woke up, the sunlight from outside had already filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting a long golden streak on the wooden floor.
The surrounding atmosphere was unexpectedly relaxed, lacking the courtly air and invisible pressure that permeated The Red Keep all day long; the functions of this young body had also completely relaxed.
To the point that after finishing his magic practice and anchoring that mental point last night, he had actually fallen into a deep, unreserved sleep, such that even his biological clock failed to wake him.
Rubbing his slightly throbbing temples, Baelon slowly sat up and stretched.
With a light vibration of power from his fingertips, the few bits of floating dust remaining in the bedding were shaken off.
A glimmer of Scourgify flashed past, instantly making the bed clean and tidy.
He walked to the window and pulled open the simple cloth curtain.
Outside were the streets of Muggle London, bustling with traffic.
The air was mixed with the aroma of baked bread and the ordinary scent of the marketplace, not nearly as heavy as the sandalwood of The Red Keep.
Baelon washed his face, patting his cheeks with fresh water until he was completely awake.
The mental exploration from last night was still echoing in his mind, and the reflection of that room in The Red Keep flickered in and out of view.
He looked down at his hands—young and fair, yet holding a heritage that spanned across time and space.
After a simple wash, he straightened his collar and pushed the door open to head downstairs.
The Leaky Cauldron below had already begun to get lively.
The scents of wine and food blended together, forming a vivid world completely different from the court of The Red Keep.
Tom Abbott saw him and gave a broad, kind smile.
“Good morning, Mr.
Targaryen.
Didn’t you rest well last night?
Hannah was asking about you this morning.”
Baelon gave a faint smile, calmly sidestepping the topic.
“I suppose so; I slept quite well in the new environment.”
Afterward, he walked to the bar and ordered a simple lunch.
The food wasn’t exactly exquisite, but it was hearty and full of the flavors of everyday life.
Baelon ate quietly, his gaze calmly scanning the pub.
He cut the fried egg on his plate unhurriedly, holding the silver cutlery with steady fingers.
His movements were deliberate and calm, with only the slight furrow in his brow revealing a moment of contemplation.
Baelon gently set down his last bite of food and folded the napkin with a flick of his fingers, his movements swift and elegant.
The brow that had been slightly furrowed just now was now completely relaxed, and a meaningful curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
His fingers lightly twirled his wand as he mentally calculated his accounts with clarity.
The Galleons he had received from selling the sapphire necklace had shrunk by more than half after several purchases.
With a full month left before the start of term, this small amount of money would certainly not last until Hogwarts opened.
His expression remained calm, without a hint of anxiety.
He was not flustered; a confident smile even flickered across his face.
This slight shortage of funds was merely a reminder that it was time to launch his monetization plan.
Fortunately—
He looked down at his palm, where the faint warmth from practicing Confundo yesterday seemed to linger.
As the practical spell that tests mental control the most outside of the three Unforgivable Curses, Confundo was actually more familiar in his hands than Scourgify.
This was not only because of his outstanding talent but also because his naturally immense mental power in this life, far exceeding that of ordinary people, already placed him above average Wizards.
This introductory spell instantly opened up a new line of thinking for him.
He put away his money bag and wand, stood up, and walked out.
He raised his eyes toward the distant East; at the end of the clouds lay his homeland from his previous life, the place his soul yearned for in this one.
Even though the world had changed and the scenery was different, that land remained his most stable spiritual anchor.
The plan settled in his mind.
Using Confundo to erase any deliberate attention from others, he followed the streets of 1991 London directly to Heathrow Airport and boarded a direct flight to Kai Tak Airport in Hong Kong.
After a flight of over ten hours, he landed.
Kai Tak Airport in the Kowloon City District was as busy as ever, with buildings hugging the runway and the city’s vibrant life rushing to meet him.
Baelon stayed hidden in the crowd, and no one noticed that this silver-haired, purple-eyed youth possessed magic.
Following the address, he made his way to 79 Deep Water Bay Road, the residence of Mr.
Li, and the only place he knew.
As for the Ministry of Magic, who would care about a freshman whose wand hadn’t even been attached with The Trace?
The guards at the gates and the mansion, the layers of security and alarms, were as good as non-existent before his magic.
Silently, he slipped inside, without alerting a single person throughout the process.
No one in the house knew what he and Mr.
Li discussed behind closed doors; only a few low sentences of conversation were heard, and then there was no more sound.
A long while later, Baelon walked slowly out of 79 Deep Water Bay Road, his expression indifferent, a satisfied certainty hidden in his eyes.
He did not linger, returning the way he came to Kai Tak Airport, boarding a return flight, and quietly returning to London.
The warm light of the Leaky Cauldron remained the same, as if he had never left.
Baelon pushed open the window and flicked his finger, a breeze sweeping away the flyers on the table.
Returning from Hong Kong last night, his conversation with Mr.
Li was nothing more than a game of following the current.
Using his status as a Wizard, he had pointed out to this Hong Kong tycoon the collapse of the Northern Giant at the end of this year and the key points of the 1997 financial storm in advance.
A businessman’s intuition is as sharp as a hawk’s.
Even if the other party was a London gentleman to his core with all the accompanying caution, he ultimately could not resist the instinctive urge to avoid risk.
Overnight, he had sent a confidant to deliver what Baelon wanted to an agreed-upon location near the pub.
It was an unremarkable wooden box.
Baelon bent over, his fingertips easily catching the edge of the lid.
The box wasn’t large, but it was heavy, weighing over forty pounds.
When opened, there was no flashy display, only stacks of neatly arranged gold bars.
They glinted with a cold metallic luster in the morning light, each one of extremely high purity, weighing heavily in his palm.
This was the most solid hard currency.
A satisfied smile flashed in Baelon’s eyes.
These yellow objects were far more suitable for circulation in the Muggle world than Galleons, yet they were also the best passport to wealth in the wizarding world.
He did not delay, locking the wooden box and taking it with him straight to Gringotts deep within Diagon Alley.
The bronze doors rumbled open.
The long-nosed Goblins shot sharp glances his way, but upon seeing the box full of pure gold, their pointed ears twitched slightly, and their attitude immediately became a bit more respectful.
“Exchanging pure gold for Galleons,” Baelon said calmly.
The Goblins verified the quality, weighed it, and calculated—a series of movements that were brisk and precise.
After a round of calculations, a cold voice announced the figure.
“Twenty kilograms of solid gold, converted according to this bank’s minting standards, totals two thousand seven hundred and forty Galleons.”
As the words fell, piles of Galleons were counted out, making a crisp sound as they rolled under the lights, stacking into a small golden hill.
This sum was enough to allow him to live very comfortably at Hogwarts, never needing to worry about his livelihood again.
The leading Goblin bowed.
“Mr.
Targaryen, your wealth far exceeds that of an ordinary freshman.
This bank suggests opening an exclusive private vault for you to permanently safeguard your assets.”
Baelon nodded slightly.
“Very well.”
A moment later, he held a silver key engraved with Gringotts runes, representing a secret vault that belonged only to him.
He deposited most of the Galleons into it, keeping only a small portion for immediate use, and turned to leave Gringotts composedly.
There was also an unexpected pleasant surprise: a legally owned money bag enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
The space wasn’t huge, but it was sufficient.
He walked slowly through the streets of Diagon Alley, watching the Wizards passing by and smelling the air where magic and mundane life intertwined, with no more worries in his heart.
For the remaining time, he wouldn’t have to scramble for money.
He could focus on studying magic and stabilizing his mental anchor, making full preparations for his upcoming life at Hogwarts.