Chapter 6

Lumian sat on the roof, not going down immediately.

His expression had long since returned to a calm and serious demeanor, completely different from the jovial and mischievous young man in the tavern.

Ever since he accidentally discovered that Aurore possessed those magical abilities, he had always wanted to obtain them. However, Aurore always told him that this was not something to envy or pursue. On the contrary, it was very dangerous and filled with pain. Therefore, she would not agree to her brother taking this path, even though she indeed had the method to allow ordinary people to harness extraordinary powers, she would not tell Lumian.

Faced with this, Lumian could only keep trying to persuade and beg, unable to force her.

After about ten seconds, Lumian stood up, nimbly walked to the edge of the eaves, and climbed back to the second floor along the wooden ladder.

He strolled to the outside of Aurore's room, saw the brown wooden door open, and peeked inside.

At that moment, Aurore, dressed in a light blue dress, was sitting at the desk by the window, bent over writing something under the bright desk lamp.

What are you writing so late? Something related to witchcraft? Lumian placed his hand on the door and joked,

"Writing a diary?"

"Who writes a diary?" Aurore didn't even turn her head, still writing with her elegant champagne-gold fountain pen.

Lumian was not convinced:

"Emperor Roselle left many diaries, didn't he?"

Roselle was the last emperor of the Intis Republic, where they currently lived. He ended the rule of the Solen royal family, was crowned "Caesar" by the Consuls, and proclaimed himself Emperor.

He had multiple important inventions, including the steam engine, found the route to the southern continent, and sparked a wave of colonization, symbolizing the era over a hundred years ago.

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

After his death, many of his diaries were passed down, but they were written in a language that no one understood, seemingly nonexistent in any part of the world.

"So Roselle wasn't a proper person," Aurore, who was facing away from Lumian, chuckled.

"What are you writing then?" Lumian asked, taking the opportunity.

This was what he truly wanted to know.

Aurore answered nonchalantly:

"A letter."

"To whom?" Lumian couldn't help but frown.

Aurore paused her elegant champagne-gold fountain pen, checking the words and sentences she had written:

"To a pen pal."

"A pen pal?" Lumian was a bit confused.

What's that?

Aurore laughed, casually tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear, and began to educate her brother:

"So I keep telling you to read more newspapers and books, and not to play around outside all day, or even drink!

"Look at you, you're no different from an illiterate.

"A pen pal is someone you meet through newspaper columns, magazines, etc., someone you've never met in person, and communicate with only through letters."

"What's the point of such a friend?" Lumian was quite concerned about this.

He couldn't help but withdraw his hand from the door and rubbed his chin.

Aurore had never had a boyfriend, and he couldn't let her be deceived by someone she had never met.

"Point?" Aurore thought seriously, "First, emotional value. I know you don't understand what emotional value is, but humans are social animals and need to communicate. There are things and emotions I definitely wouldn't tell the villagers or you, and I need a more private outlet. A pen pal who I won't meet is perfect. Second, don't underestimate my pen pals. Some of them are very capable, and some are extremely knowledgeable. For example, this battery-powered lamp was a gift from a pen pal. Oil lamps and candles are too harmful to the eyes and not suitable for writing at night..."

Before Lumian could ask more, Aurore raised her left hand and waved it back:

"Go to sleep, my drunkard brother!

"Good night!"

"Alright, good night." Although Lumian was reluctant, he didn't press further.

Aurore then instructed:

"Remember to close the door for me, it's a bit cold with the door open and the window open."

Lumian slowly closed the brown wooden door.

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

In the dim darkness, the wooden desk by the window, the chair leaning against it, the small bookshelf against the side wall, and the wardrobe on the other side came into view.

He sat quietly, lost in thought.

He had always known that Aurore had her secrets, many things she hadn't told him, and he wasn't surprised by this. He was just worried that these secrets might bring danger to Aurore.

And if something really happened, there was very little he could do.

He was just a physically strong, somewhat clever ordinary person.

Thoughts came and went, and Lumian let out a light sigh, got up from the bed, and went to the bathroom for a quick wash.

Then, he took off his brown jacket and threw himself into the cold bed.

In early April, the weather on the mountain was still a bit cold.

...

In a daze, Lumian seemed to see a gray mist.

It spread around, making distant things completely disappear.

Lumian walked in a daze, but no matter which direction he went, how far he walked in the gray mist, he always ended up in the same place:

His bedroom.

A bedroom composed of a bed with white bedding, a wooden desk and chair by the window, a bookshelf, and a wardrobe.

...

Lumian opened his eyes.

Morning sunlight filtered through the not-so-thick blue curtains, illuminating half of the bedroom.

Lumian sat up, staring at the scene, feeling as if he was still dreaming.

He had that dream again.

A dream of the never-dissipating gray mist.

He pinched his temples and muttered to himself:

"It's becoming more frequent, almost every day..."

If this dream hadn't brought any negative effects, Lumian wouldn't be as calm as he was now.

Of course, it hadn't brought any positive effects either.

"I wish it hid some kind of adventure..." Lumian muttered, then got out of bed.

He had just opened the door and stepped into the corridor when he heard a sound coming from Aurore's room.

What a coincidence... A smile appeared on Lumian's face.

Suddenly, he felt a jolt and stepped back, standing by the door.

When Aurore's bedroom door opened, Lumian quickly raised his right hand, pinched his temples, and showed a slightly pained expression.

"What's wrong?" Aurore noticed.

Success! Lumian cheered in his heart, pretending to try to calm himself.

"I had that dream again," he answered in a low voice.

Aurore's golden hair hung loosely, and a hint of worry appeared on her face:

"The last method 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 it."

"One with magical abilities?" Lumian asked deliberately.

Aurore nodded slightly in response.

"One of your pen pals?" Lumian couldn't help but ask.

"Why do you care? Think about how to solve your own problems!" Aurore didn't answer directly.

Aren't I thinking about it? Lumian muttered in his heart.

He took the opportunity to say:

"Aurore, if I become a wizard, if I gain extraordinary powers, I should be able to uncover the secrets of the dream and end it completely."

"Don't even think about it!" Aurore responded without hesitation.

Her expression softened:

"Lumian, I'm not lying to you. This path is dangerous and painful. If there were other choices, if the world weren't becoming more dangerous, I would rather be an ordinary writer, living a happy life."

Lumian immediately said:

"Then let me bear those dangers and pains. I'll protect you, and you can live happily and do what you want."

He had thought about these words many times.

Aurore was silent for two seconds, then her smile suddenly bloomed:

"Are you discriminating against women?"

Without giving Lumian a chance to restate, she said seriously:

"It's no use. Once you choose this path, there's no turning back.

"Alright, I'm going to wash up. You stay home and study today, prepare for the June university entrance exam!"

"Why are you still talking about exams when the world is becoming more dangerous?" Lumian muttered.

He felt that the most important thing now was to gain power, not to do exams.

Aurore smiled:

"Knowledge is power, my illiterate brother."

Lumian had nothing to say and could only watch Aurore walk into the bathroom.

...

In the afternoon, in the square of Cordu village.

Raymond Clegane saw Lumian Li squatting under an elm tree from a distance, seemingly lost in thought.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying at home?" Raymond walked over, his tone filled with obvious envy.

He was Lumian's friend, about 1.7 meters tall, with brown hair and brown eyes, an ordinary appearance, and a slightly ruddy face.

Lumian lifted his head and smiled:

"Didn't Aurore tell you? Even hanging needs a breath of air! I've been studying for so long, I need a break."

He had been thinking all morning about whether he could gain extraordinary powers without Aurore's help.

This required searching, clues, and active investigation.

In the end, he thought that the stories about magical powers circulating in the village might hide some truth, some clues, so he came here to wait for Raymond.

"If I were you, I'd rest for at most fifteen minutes," Raymond leaned against the elm tree, "We don't have a sister who's read many books to teach us. I'm going to learn sheep herding next year."

Lumian ignored this and said thoughtfully:

"Tell me the wizard legend you mentioned last time."

Raymond didn't quite understand Lumian's intention and recalled hesitantly:

"The wizard one?

"Long ago, there was a wizard in the village. When he died, on the day of his burial, an owl flew in from outside and perched on the bed until the body was carried away.

"Then, the coffin became very heavy, and it took nine oxen to move it."

"How long ago was that?" Lumian asked.

Raymond was even more confused:

"How would I know? I heard it from my father."