"The 58th winning number for today is, 4-3-9-6-2-8-0-0!!"
Lying in his rented room, dressed in a black suit jacket paired with SpongeBob shorts, William jumped up from his bed in excitement as he heard the numbers announced on the TV by the host.
"I won? I really won!" William rubbed his eyes, double-checking the scratch-off ticket in his hand.
The numbers matched perfectly!
"Haha, I'm fucking rich now."
He reminisced about yesterday, marveled at today, and dreamed of the future!
William had been an orphan from a young age. But he never gave up on his dreams and kept buying lottery tickets every day, believing that he would eventually win.
And now, he had succeeded, finally it was his harvest season!
With this money, William could do many things.
He could buy a luxurious beachfront villa in the Taklamakan Desert, invest in a Sino-American film featuring his favourite actor, or fund treatment for his beloved streamer's ten-year battle with depression…
Two days later, with a disposable mask covering his face and a pair of children's sunglasses bought for five yuan perched on his nose, William walked into the lottery centre, fully armed.
His hair was greasy, and his eyes shifted restlessly, making him look like a petty thief.
He glanced around cautiously…
There were no crowds of people packed like sardines waiting to witness his win;
No foundation staff with pens, waiting for him to donate;
No swarming Hong Kong reporters eager to interview him.
There was no grand spectacle whatsoever, not even… the money!!
William suddenly sat up, jolted awake from his hazy dream.
Where am I?
Who am I?
Where's my husband… ah, I mean, where's my money?
William looked around and realized it was all a dream. He sighed deeply and lay back down on the bed.
No wonder it seemed a bit off. Everything else seemed real enough, but how could there possibly be the Jade Emperor's image on Chinese currency?!
Patting his head, William showed a bored expression.
William's parents died when he was young, and he finished university thanks to the help of some kind-hearted people.
A month ago, William had still been living in China, waiting for someone from the communist party to come and discuss the issue of succeeding as a socialist leader with him—though he had been waiting for more than twenty years. He had nothing going on in his life.
The beginning of the dream had been true; he had indeed won the lottery. But while celebrating, eating hotpot, and singing songs, he was suddenly kidnapped.
William still remembered what the kidnapper looked like: blood-red lips, a sharp nose, a sinister grin and most of all, a chilling, ghastly makeup... identical in every way to the Joker from Batman.
At first, William thought it was just someone cosplaying. He even looked around, hoping to find Batman. But instead, he got knocked out with a brick.
The kidnapper took away his money, tore up the ticket, and when William came to, he found himself transported to England, back in 1990, stuffed into the body of an eleven-year-old boy.
After waking up, William discovered that he could communicate in English normally with others, and he also had memories of being an eleven-year-old child.
This boy's original name was William Stark. He came from a well-off family, with a father who was a dentist, a mother who was a professor at Cambridge University, and a nine-year-old sister named Annie.
Having been an orphan in his previous life, William was quite satisfied with his new identity. As for his past, he decided to treat it as a nightmare and forget about it.
His only real regret was the lost lottery ticket.
Fortunately, William had written down the winning numbers in a diary.
As long as he wasn't in a parallel world, he would eventually become a millionaire again—all he had to do was wait... for thirty years! And find the right lottery ticket, and try not to alter the world too much in the meantime…
He was still optimistic. This time, he definitely wouldn't be going out for hotpot.
William sighed, tossed and turned, and found that he couldn't fall back asleep, so he decided to get up and go for a morning run.
But as he stood up, he heard a soft "flap-flap" sound coming from the balcony.
"Boba Tea, is that you?" he asked softly while putting on his clothes.
Boba Tea was a cute young orange cat that William had rescued after it got injured, and he had kept it as a pet ever since.
Though stray cats like this weren't as common as London's foxes, they were still a frequent sight.
Since the cat was completely orange, William named it Boba Tea.
Boba Tea had an exceptionally gentle temperament; otherwise, William's parents wouldn't have allowed him to keep it.
After quickly getting dressed, William pulled open the curtains and opened the glass door.
The sunlight outside was warm but not harsh.
It seemed like today would be a rare sunny day!
William squinted and saw that Boba Tea was crouched on the marble floor of the balcony, facing off with an owl.
The scene was inexplicably strange.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, Boba Tea twitched its orange ears, revealing a row of sharp teeth as it let out a cute "meow" while lowering its body, readying itself for a pounce.
The owl, with its head tilted, swayed slightly and kept its large eyes fixed on Boba Tea, as if looking at it with disdain.
This couldn't be tolerated!
Boba Tea was enraged and prepared to attack.
William quickly stepped in front of it and said, "Boba Tea, don't eat strange things—you'll get sick!"
He added, "At the very least, it should be cooked first…"
"Hoot!"
The owl seemed to understand William's words. It tilted its head, giving the boy an offended look.
Its amber eyes glared, and then it spread its wings, flapping off from the balcony railing.
That's when William noticed that the owl was clutching a thick parchment envelope in its talons.
A letter?
For me?
He found it odd. An owl, a nocturnal bird, having a standoff with his little orange cat early in the morning was strange enough. But it even delivered mail?
What was the time period again?
William stroked his chin and pondered deeply, his thick, lustrous dark brown hair fluttering gently in the breeze.
"Come to think of it... this body did have some strange things going on in its memories."
William couldn't quite describe it—it was a bit like having superpowers, or perhaps a magical awakening.
He had even tried to subtly probe his parents about it, but found that they were just ordinary people. To avoid being experimented on, he decided to keep this secret hidden.
"Looks like… I really am not an ordinary person!"
And then there was his surname, Stark…
William's emerald-green eyes brightened, like a blind man discovering a spot of light.
"Could it be... my distant cousin Howard Stark discovered that his son Tony was starting to resemble Potts, so he decided to invite me over to inherit all his wealth in the United States?!"
But that couldn't be right either.
If Stark Industries were so famous, surely he would have seen it on TV, which meant this wasn't the Marvel universe.
Then…
"Could it be that my distant relative, Bran Stark from Westeros, is summoning me over to inherit his Iron Throne?"
But wouldn't he send a raven instead?
As William was lost in thought, the owl circled a few times in the sky before dropping the letter right onto his head.
William picked up the envelope, quickly turned it over, and saw a wax seal on the back. There was a coat of arms—a capital "H" surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
His eyes widened, and he clutched the letter tightly, quickly tearing it open and reading the contents:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Stark,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress...
Before he could finish reading the letter, William's attention was interrupted by another sound.
He looked up and saw that Boba Tea had pinned the owl to the balcony floor.
The owl lay flat on the balcony, while Boba Tea was on top of it.
Hmm, the position looks a bit... suggestive.
That was William's first thought.
His second thought...
Wait, Boba Tea! Let me send the reply first, then we can have a rooftop barbecue!