After lunch, every single monk in the monastery gathered at the gates to bid farewell to Ren, or rather, Monk Jingyuan. 'Descending the mountain', as it is called, is an important part of a monk's journey in life, when he returns to the mortal world to apply the wisdom he has gained on the 'mountain', his monastery. It does not mean the monk does not belong to the monastery anymore, but rather that it is necessary for him to leave to walk further on his path.
Monks generally leave when they come of age, travel, learn, and return to teach younger monks after a few years. But Ren, due to his special circumstances, was leaving early. Master Jing'an had already explained it to everyone that Ren has a legacy to return to in England, and the monks has now gathered to bid farewell and wish him safety and fortune.
The farewell was not an official ceremony, but it was conducted with the solemnity of one. No words were spoken, only the simple action of Ren cupping his fist and bowing to the entire gathering, and monks bowing in return, sufficed. Dumbledore and Ren, without looking back, descended down the stone stairs of the monastery mountain.
As they walked, enjoying the scenery, Dumbledore said, "That was perhaps the most… emotional silence I have witnessed in my life. You have a great family, Ren."
Ren smiled at the old wizard, and said, "Well, we monks are people of few words, Professor, but we are just as emotional as anyone else. It is misconception that monks shut off their emotions, but in reality, the essence of being a monk is making peace with your heart."
Dumbledore stared off into space, thinking of the words Ren had just spoken. The essence of being a monk is making peace with your heart. He thought about the life he had lived - filled with mistakes, tragedy, and regrets, all because he was led around by his emotions. These words… *sigh*… this boy is too wise for his age.
Dumbledore was suddenly shaken out of this thoughts by the sound a bell repeatedly ringing. He reached into his pocket, and under Ren's curious gaze, pulled out a small silver bell, which ringing by itself and emitting a blue glow. Ren asked, "What is that?" "Well, that is our ticket to Britain. It called a Portkey, and it will transport us to the Ministry Of Magic in a blink. Now I want you to hold any part of this bell, and brace yourself. In a few seconds, you will feel as if you are yanked into a hurricane. Don't worry, just make sure you land on your feet."
"Now, in three…", muttered Dumbledore, looking at a watch, "two… one…"
It happened immediately. Ren felt as if a hook behind his navel was suddenly yanked forwards. He felt his feet leave the ground, and then he was speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling color. And then suddenly, his feet slammed onto marble with considerable force, but with his qi-enhanced-Shaolin-monk physique, he didn't even buckle.
He looked around. He was in what looked like an office. Lining the walls were multiple shelves, filled with thick, dusty tomes. A window on the side let in air and light, but Ren's instinct and one quick look with Eyes Of Truth showed that it was just a wall, with a bit of magic and a window frame. The wall facing the door was decorated with multiple awards and honors, with a scroll in the central position, titled 'Order Of Merlin'. Below those awards sat a sharp, stern looking man behind a mahogany desk, reading something from a stack of parchments. His name was clearly written on a plaque on his desk.
Barty Crouch Sr. looked up sharply as a pair of thuds echoed in his office. In front of him, looking slightly windswept, were an old man and a bald child. "Well", he said dryly, "it seems you brought back the boy, Dumbledore. And I barely managed to get the International Confederation to allow it. The Chinese nutte- I mean diplomats were saying House Alaric be registered under the Chinese Ministry because the last male was living in China. But ones roots are where ones roots are, aren't they, boy? I am Bartemius Crouch, Head of Department Of International Magical Co-operation." Crouch held out his hand for Ren as he introduced himself.
Ren smiled gently, shaking hands, and spoke in perfect English, surprising both men. "Hello, Mr. Crouch. I am Ren Alaric."
Dumbledore, shaking his head slightly, said, "I'm afraid we don't have time for a hearty chat, Barty. Ren has to get his heirship and vault in Gringotts, and I don't want to keep his hosts waiting."
"Alright. See you around."
Dumbledore took Ren's hand and hurried out of the office. They walked through a long, busy hallway, with people poking their heads out of doors, paper airplanes flying around by themselves, and a lot of middle aged men in wizard robes hurrying about. Most of them greeted Dumbledore when they saw him, the stared curiously at the little bald kid who was with the Headmaster.
They walked into an old fashioned elevator, which took them to the main entrance area of the Ministry Of Magic, the Atrium.
Ren looked around with wonder as they stepped out into a massive, cavernous hallway. The floor was made of polished dark wood, and above was a peacock blue ceiling with shifting golden symbols. Wizards stepped in and out of green flames from gilded fireplaces on the sides. Ren and Dumbledore stepped out of golden security gates and the old wizard led Ren to one of the fireplaces with green fire.
"Ren, this is a wizarding way of transport known as the Floo. You have to step into those flames and say clearly, 'Diagon Alley'. Don't worry, the fire won't hurt you."
Ren nodded and stepped into the green flames. It was like soaking into a hot pool, and said, "Diagon Alley!"