[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-ring-of-fate":3,"chapter-the-ring-of-fate-the-ring-of-fate-chapter-19":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Ring of Fate",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2297988,4496,"Chapter 19: Meditation","the-ring-of-fate-chapter-19",19,"\u003Cp>Madame Pauris did not chat with Aurora long; after a few minutes, they walked out of the study.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian accompanied his sister, seeing Madame Pauris all the way to the front door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He then turned to Aurora:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What did she ask you to do?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aurora curled her lip and said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“She asked me to lead the singing at the Celebration of Praise. I refused.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lenten observance in Koldu Village has three parts: the Blessing Parade of the Spring Spirits, the Water Ritual, and the Celebration of Praise held inside the church—the last primarily conducted through instrumental music and choral singing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the Dariji region, the church choir usually leads the singing, but Koldu Village lacks such resources, so they must find someone skilled in singing instead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the instrumental portion, the villagers have no trouble with it; in a village with a shepherd tradition, music—or instruments—is an essential part of daily life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shepherds spend years out in the wild, living in huts or dugouts; besides their companions and flocks, the only thing they regularly interact with is the flute they carry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond herding, playing cards, and chatting, blowing the flute to soothe their inner selves is something nearly every shepherd does.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s why the phrase to describe a shepherd in dire poverty is: “He doesn’t even have a flute.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With so many shepherds around, other villagers in Koldu inevitably absorb some influence; when they gather to chat in the square, someone will always play an instrument, letting the melodious tunes drift through the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mm.” Lumian, seeing his sister’s firm resolve, felt deeply relieved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For such celebrations, just watching and joining the noise is enough; being the main performer wastes time and invites unnecessary envy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To protect his eyesight, with only kerosene lamps for light, Lumian read for only a short while before washing up and going to bed, seriously pondering how to safely test what special qualities he possessed within his dreams.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lady’s repeated suggestions had been uncannily accurate, making him unconsciously believe her words completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the deep silence of night, Lumian entered his dream again—and woke up there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He patted each pocket, instinctively counting: the 217 Fierkins and 25 Kopes he’d gained were still there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhaled, picked up his axe and pitchfork, clattered downstairs, and headed straight for the stove.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fire had gone out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When I’m not dreaming, the clock here still ticks…” Lumian frowned slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In such a “realistic” dream, what could possibly be special about me?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—“The clock still ticks” is a common saying in the Dariji region, meaning time flows on regardless of human presence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian returned to what he considered his safest room, set down his axe and pitchfork, and swiftly stripped off his clothes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he walked to the full-length mirror attached to the wardrobe and examined his body inch by inch, searching for differences from reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No abnormalities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Spiritual specialness?” Lumian didn’t bother putting his clothes back on; he walked straight back to the bed, sat cross-legged like his sister.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously, to help him achieve lucid dreams, Aurora had taught him some basic, non-mystical meditation techniques; now he wanted to try them, to see if, in complete stillness, he could sense any hidden special qualities in his spirit or body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Step one: regulate the breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian deepened his breathing and slowed its rhythm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Through slow, prolonged, rhythmically paced breaths, he gradually emptied his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simultaneously, he visualized in his mind a crimson sun, focusing all his attention and thoughts on it to exclude all other distractions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aurora had specifically warned him: when meditating, he must always visualize something real and representing light, to avoid attracting some filthy, evil entity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a casual devotee of the “Eternal Sun,” Lumian’s first instinct was to visualize the sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His spirit gradually calmed; his perception of the world seemed to shrink to nothing but that crimson blazing sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, Lumian seemed to hear a sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It came from impossibly high above—or perhaps right beside his ear—indistinct yet echoing like thunder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that indescribable hum, his heart pounded wildly; his head felt as if an iron rod had been jammed inside and twisted violently.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Intense pain erupted instantly; the blazing sun turned blood-red, then rapidly blackened into deep darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vision within the meditation shattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian snapped open his eyes, gasping for air, feeling as if he were about to drop dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It took over twenty seconds before he recovered from that near-death experience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He instinctively lowered his head to examine his body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He saw something strange on his left chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A deep black, thorn-like symbol, as if growing from his heart, emerged from within his flesh—linking one after another, forming a chain that stretched backward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Above these “thorns” were eye-like patterns and worm-like twisted lines, all in bluish-black.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, these tattoo-like marks were slowly fading.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian was startled, then his mind raced with possibilities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He leapt from the bed and rushed to the full-length mirror, turning his back to it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he strained to twist his head leftward, trying to see his back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He barely glimpsed the chain of black “thorns” re-entering his body at the center of his back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meaning: the “thorn” chain formed a ring, encircling his heart and the corresponding part of his body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The black and bluish-black symbols are different. The bluish-black ones feel familiar… similar to the markings on the old man I helped during my wandering… That’s when I started having dreams filled with thick fog…” Lumian analyzed these dream-specific “specialties” until they faded completely and vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing this, Lumian felt deeply disappointed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he’d found something special, he deemed it meaningless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because the process that triggered it caused him extreme pain, bordering on death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What’s the difference between facing that monster with the hunting rifle and delivering it food, when you’re barely conscious?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And if he waited until he regained strength, the “specialty” would almost vanish again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dream’s climate was cold, like early spring in the mountains; Lumian couldn’t stay bare-skinned for long, so he quickly redressed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Merely performing this simple act left him utterly exhausted, his head throbbing again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, the impact of that meditation wouldn’t recover quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under these conditions, Lumian decided to abandon exploration tonight, make no further attempts, sleep well, and rest properly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he woke again, dawn had not yet broken.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gazing at the darkness inside the room and the faint crimson near the curtains, Lumian carefully recalled everything that had happened in the dream.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve meditated many times in reality before—never heard that strange sound, never felt any pain…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is the specialness only present in that dream?” Lumian sat up in confusion, determined to verify.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tried meditation again, following the same steps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crimson sun quickly appeared in his mind; his mental clutter gradually settled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the familiar meditation experience: no strange sounds, no intense pain, no near-death sensation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a while, he ended the meditation, unbuttoned his shirt, and looked down at his chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no symbol there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So it’s true—the specialness belongs only to the dream… it doesn’t affect reality…” Lumian didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lifted his head, gazing at the window obscured by curtains, his thoughts spreading out, wondering how this dream-specific “specialness” could be used—and how.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, he noticed a small black shadow outside the window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian’s pupils widened instantly; his entire body tensed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His most instinctive reaction was to call his sister—but then he remembered: he was at home, and Aurora had said she’d watch over this place; she’d likely already noticed. So he carefully got out of bed and crept slowly toward the window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Throughout this, Lumian waited for his sister to call out and stop him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aurora did not appear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian reached the window, gripped the curtain, and cautiously pulled it open a sliver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside lay a quiet, deep night; a crimson moon hung far in the distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On a nearby elm tree, gently swaying its leaves, an owl stood motionless, staring directly at Lumian’s window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was noticeably larger than most of its kind; its eyes were neither dull nor rigid, and the gaze it fixed on Lumian carried an indescribable sense of superiority.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That owl!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s back again!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lumian’s heart tightened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just like last time, after locking eyes with Lumian for Shiji  seconds, it spread its wings and flew silently into the depths of the night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...” Lumian was speechless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a long pause, he pulled the curtain fully open and muttered curses:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you mentally ill?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You just show up, stare for a second, then leave without saying a word!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you mute, or are you stupid? You’ve been around for years and still haven’t learned human language?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, Lumian had his own theory about the owl’s behavior: he believed it was Aurora’s presence that kept it from acting—after all, Aurora had said that as long as he didn’t leave the building at night, he’d be safe; had he impulsively stuck his head out the window just now, the owl probably wouldn’t have flown away so calmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After cursing for a while, Lumian decided to close the curtains and catch a few more hours of sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His gaze drifted idly outside—and froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the edge of a small grove, ten meters away, a figure was walking slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She wore a long, dark dress made of coarse cloth; her hair was thin and pale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Naroka…” Lumian recognized the figure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the woman he had previously asked about the witch legends—Naroka.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Naroka’s face seemed half merged with the darkness, her eyes reflecting an odd glow under the faint crimson moonlight, her entire body moving with unnatural stiffness, like a wandering ghost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>PS: Thank you to Heiye Youli for the Baiyin Alliance reward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1632,"2026-06-20T06:22:34.374Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","62f267d63c83d2860b51a2a3b8ba1f17968b192bf2e3116015cd2cbcfa31edab","the-ring-of-fate-chapter-20","the-ring-of-fate-chapter-18",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-ring-of-fate-cover.jpg"]