Chapter 3: Dream

Lu Mi sat on the roof, not immediately going down.

His facial expression had completely vanished, his calm, serious demeanor seeming like that of a different person from the laughing, mischievous youth in the tavern.

Since accidentally discovering Aurora possessed those miraculous abilities, he had long desired to obtain them, but Aurora always told him this was not something worth envying or pursuing—on the contrary, it was extremely dangerous and filled with pain, so she would never agree to let her brother walk this path, even though she indeed held the method to grant ordinary people control over extraordinary power, she would never tell Lu Mi.

For this, Lu Mi could only keep seeking opportunities to persuade and beg; he could not force her.

After ten or so seconds, Lu Mi stood up, moved nimbly to the eave’s edge, and climbed back up the wooden ladder to the second floor.

He strolled over to Aurora’s room and saw the brown wooden door wide open, so he peered inside.

At that moment, Aurora, dressed in a light blue dress, sat behind the window desk, head bowed, writing under the bright desk lamp.

What could she be writing so late? Something related to witchcraft? Lu Mi raised his hand to the doorframe and joked:

“Writing a diary?”

“Who writes a diary, seriously?” Aurora didn’t turn around, still writing with her exquisite champagne-gold engraved pen.

Lu Mi objected:

“Emperor Luo Saier left behind many diaries.”

Luo Saier was the last emperor in the history of the Intis Republic where the siblings currently lived—he ended the rule of the Soren royal family and was crowned “Caesar” by the regent, calling himself Emperor.

He invented numerous important things, including the steam engine, discovered the route to the Southern Continent, sparked a wave of colonization, and was the symbol of that era over a century ago.

Unfortunately, he was betrayed in his later years and assassinated in the White Maple Palace of Triel.

After his death, several volumes of his diaries circulated, but all were written in a script no one could understand, as if it didn’t exist anywhere in this world.

“So Luo Saier wasn’t a serious person,” Aurora scoffed, her back still turned to Lu Mi.

“Then what are you writing?” Lu Mi asked casually.

This was what he truly wanted to know.

Aurora answered indifferently:

“Letters.”

“To whom?” Lu Mi couldn’t help frowning.

Aurora paused her finely engraved champagne-gold pen and checked the preceding words and sentences:

“A pen pal.”

“Pen pal?” Lu Mi looked confused.

What was that?

Aurora laughed, brushing her golden hair behind her ear as she lectured her brother:

“That’s why I say you should read more newspapers and books, stop playing outside all day, even drinking!

“Look at you—you’re no different from an illiterate.

“A pen pal is someone you meet through newspaper columns, magazines, never seen in person, communicating solely through letters.”

“What’s the point of such a friend?” Lu Mi was deeply concerned about this.

He instinctively pulled his hand away from the doorframe and rubbed his chin.

Aurora had never had a boyfriend—he couldn’t let some stranger she’d never met trick her.

“Point?” Aurora thought seriously, “First, emotional value—well, I know you don’t understand what emotional value is. Humans are social creatures who need communication. Some things, some emotions, I won’t tell the villagers, and I certainly won’t tell you—I need a more secret outlet for release. A pen pal who never meets you is perfect. Second, don’t underestimate my pen pals; several of them are very powerful, and some are exceptionally learned. Take this battery-powered lamp—it was a gift from one of them. Kerosene lamps and candles damage the eyes too much; they’re unsuitable for nighttime writing…”

Before Lu Mi could ask more, Aurora raised her left hand and waved it backward:

“Go to sleep, my drunkard brother!

“Good night!”

“Alright, good night,” Lu Mi said reluctantly, though he didn’t press further.

Aurora immediately added:

“Remember to close the door for me—it’s cold with the door and window open.”

Lu Mi slowly shut the brown wooden door.

He walked step by step back to his room, took off his shoes, and sat on the bed.

In the dim, hazy darkness, the wooden desk pressed against the window, the slanted chair, the small bookshelf against the side wall, and the wardrobe on the other side all came into Lu Mi’s view.

He sat quietly, lost in thought.

He had always known Aurora kept secrets, that she had many things she never told him—he wasn’t surprised, but he worried these secrets might bring her danger.

And if anything truly happened, what he could do was extremely limited.

He was merely an ordinary person with a sturdy body and a fairly sharp mind.

One thought after another surfaced, then faded; Lu Mi exhaled softly, got up from the bed, and went to the washroom for a quick cleanse.

Then he took off his brown jacket-style coat and threw himself into the still-cold blankets.

In the mountains at the end of March and beginning of April, the weather was still chilly.

…………

In a daze, Lu Mi seemed to see a gray mist.

It filled the surroundings, making distant objects vanish completely.

Lu Mi wandered with a blurred mind, but no matter which direction he went or how far he walked within the gray mist, he always ended up back in the same place:

His bedroom.

The bedroom composed of a bed with white bedding, a wooden desk and chair placed horizontally before the window, a bookshelf, and a wardrobe.

…………

Huh—Lu Mi opened his eyes.

Morning sunlight filtered through the thin blue curtains, illuminating half the bedroom.

Lu Mi sat up, staring blankly at the scene, feeling as if he were still dreaming.

He had had that dream again.

He had dreamed of that never-dispersing gray mist.

He raised his hand and pressed his temples, murmuring silently:

“It’s happening more often lately—almost every day now…”

If this dream brought any negative effects, Lu Mi would never be as calm as he was now.

Of course, it brought no positive effects either.

“I wish it concealed some kind of extraordinary encounter…” Lu Mi muttered, rolling out of bed.

He had just opened his door and stepped into the hallway when he heard sounds coming from Aurora’s room.

What a coincidence… Lu Mi’s face broke into a faint smile.

Suddenly, he had an idea, stepped back, and stood at the edge of his door.

As Aurora’s bedroom door opened, Lu Mi quickly raised his right hand, pinching his temples, his face showing a hint of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Aurora noticed.

Success! Lu Mi cheered inwardly, pretending to struggle to regain composure.

“I had that dream again,” he replied in a low voice.

Aurora’s golden hair hung loosely; worry slowly darkened her brow:

“The previous solution didn’t work…”

She thought for a moment and said:

“Perhaps… I should find you a hypnotist—a real hypnotist—to see what’s causing this.”

“One with miraculous abilities?” Lu Mi asked deliberately.

Aurora gave a slight nod in reply.

“One of your pen pals?” Lu Mi couldn’t help asking again.

“Why do you care about that? Think about how to solve your own problem!” Aurora gave no direct answer.

Aren’t I thinking about it right now? Lu Mi muttered inwardly.

He went on smoothly:

“Aurora, if I become a witch, someone who masters extraordinary power, I could uncover the secret of the dream and end it completely.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Aurora replied without hesitation.

Her expression softened:

“Lu Mi, I won’t lie to you—this path is dangerous and painful. If I had any other choice, if this world weren’t growing more dangerous, I’d rather be an ordinary writer, living happily.”

Lu Mi immediately said:

“Then let me bear the danger and pain—I’ll protect you. You just live happily, do what you want.”

He had thought these words many times in his mind.

Aurora fell silent for two seconds, then suddenly smiled:

“Are you discriminating against women?”

Before Lu Mi could rephrase, she said seriously:

“It’s useless—once you choose this path, there’s no turning back.

“Alright, alright, I’m going to wash up. Study hard at home today and prepare for the June university entrance exam!”

“You said the world’s getting more dangerous—why take an exam?” Lu Mi muttered.

He felt gaining power was far more important than taking tests.

Aurora smiled:

“Knowledge is power, my illiterate brother.”

Lu Mi had nothing to say and could only watch Aurora enter the washroom.

…………

In the afternoon, in the square of Kerdou Village.

Ryan Cos spotted Lu Mi Li crouching beneath an elm tree, lost in thought.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying at home?” Ryan walked over, his tone tinged with obvious envy.

He was Lu Mi’s friend, about one meter seventy tall, with brown hair and brown eyes, an ordinary face flushed with a faint redness.

Lu Mi lifted his head and smiled.

“Didn’t Aurora tell you? Even hanging yourself needs a breath! I’ve studied so long—I deserve a rest.”

All morning he had been wondering whether he could obtain extraordinary power without Aurora’s help.

It required searching, clues, and active investigation on his part.

In the end, he believed the village’s tales of magical forces might conceal truths, hidden clues—and so he had come here specifically to wait for Ryan.

“If I were you, I’d rest no more than fifteen minutes,” Ryan leaned against the elm. “We don’t have a sister who’s read many books to teach us. I’m going to learn shepherding next year.”

Lu Mi ignored that remark and said thoughtfully:

“Tell me again that story about the wizard.”

Ryan didn’t understand Lu Mi’s intent and frowned as he recalled:

“The wizard one?”

“There used to be a wizard in the village. When he died, on the day of his burial, an owl flew in from outside and perched on the ceiling above his bed, not leaving until the corpse was carried away.”

“Then the coffin became so heavy it took nine oxen to pull it.”

“How long ago was this?” Lu Mi pressed.

Ryan grew even more confused:

“How would I know? I heard it from my father.”

(End of Chapter)