Nightmare’s Call

Under the desk light, Lin Sheng was immersed in studying the text that he had just translated.

He repeatedly checked the words using the dictionary to see if he had made any mistakes, and after three rounds of verification, Lin Sheng was pretty sure that his translation was correct.

“If it’s really a handbook of swordsmanship, then the book I saw in the dream…” Lin Sheng was in disbelief as he remembered that nothing was repetitive despite the vast amount of text in the book.

If those writings were authentic…

A strong sense of curiosity rose within him.

“How could it be? It was just a dream!” Lin Sheng smacked and lowered his head to continue translating the last line of the text that he had memorized and written down. The first line was on the front cover, and the last line was on the lower right corner of the back cover. He was initially not sure what they were about. However, with the help of the dictionary, he quickly finished translating the remaining words.

Fortunately, the Rehn writing system was not difficult to learn, and there were many experts of the language in the country. Lin Sheng was glad that he had bought the dictionary.

After he was done with the translation, he picked up the note, waved it a little, and put it back down on the table. His expression changed.

“What is this?” Lin Sheng looked perplexed. By now, he was dead sure that his dreams had gone wrong. The black text on the white paper clearly read  Class II Swordsman. Ravel’s Handbook.

“Class II Swordsman?” Lin Sheng had found something life-changing. He remained silent for a while before he scrunched up the paper and went to open the door.

The living room was dark; his parents were not home yet. He took a deep breath, walked quickly into the kitchen, and wet the crumpled paper under the faucet.

Lin Sheng watched as the writings on the crumpled paper blurred and faded quickly under the running water. When the writings finally turned into faint patches of black ink, he tossed the wet paper into the trash can, dried his hands, and left the kitchen to return to his bedroom.

Without cleaning himself up, Lin Sheng took off his clothes and socks, then got into bed.

He could not wait to reenter the dream from the day before so that he could obtain a little more content and see if the book was truly readable.

He wondered if he could still access his previous nightmare.

“I hope I can still dream about it.” Lin Sheng was looking forward to it.

Without the feeling of fear this time, he closed his eyes. He regulated his breathing and emptied his mind.

Time then ticked away.

Lin Sheng’s consciousness gradually blurred. In a trance, he seemed to hear the sound of the security door unlocking in the living room and someone walking in.

The person did not utter a word, and there was no other sound. Soon, footsteps were heard coming from the corridor, and his bedroom door was pushed open. Lin Sheng could clearly feel that someone was standing at the doorway, peering at him.

“Is that Dad or Mom?” Lin Sheng speculated. But he did not even know when the person left because he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Lin Sheng stood quietly in the gloomy manor’s hall, next to the fireplace with a bust. In front of the fireplace was a rectangular dining table covered with a tattered tablecloth. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around.

“Am I really back?” Lin Sheng found it incredible. He thought that he would experience his previous nightmare again, and he was prepared to confront it. But to his surprise, he had come to this place instead.

“Where is this place?” Lin Sheng searched his memories but did not find anything reminiscent of the manor.

“The scenes in dreams are supposedly places that I’ve seen before. Most of the time, it would be familiar scenery, people, and things. But I have no idea what this place is.” Lin Sheng knitted his brows together, looking down at the long gray underwear that he had worn to bed.

“Even the loose thread isn’t here?” Lin Sheng raised his right hand, where there used to be a loose thread hanging from his sleeve near the elbow.

Pausing for a moment, he then walked straight toward the study room. He had checked the other places in the manor, and now, the study room, specifically the opened book on the table, was the only thing that interested him.

Lin Sheng twisted the doorknob and reentered the study room, which he had previously left.

The room layout was still the same as before; there were two mahogany bookshelves filled with books, a stack of books on a low wooden table, a candlestick, and a large opened book.

Lin Sheng walked up to the low table. Sitting down, he carefully looked at the content of the book—the dense text and graphics were clear.

“So realistic! It doesn’t feel like I’m in a dream.” Lin Sheng was amazed.

He reached out to grab the corner of the wooden table to make sure that he was not dreaming. The tactile sensation was still the same as before—he could not feel anything as if his hand was wrapped in a thick cotton cloth. But what surprised him was the perception of touch this time. It was much more refined than the one in his previous dreams.

Lin Sheng retracted his hand and refocused his attention on the book in front of him. The sheer amount of Rehn text gave him a headache.

“With my level of memory power, I can only memorize a little at a time. How long will it take to finish reading a page?” Thinking of that, Lin Sheng felt depressed. However, he had no choice but to translate it bit by bit. Perhaps, he would get more proficient over time.

“It looks like I’ll have to return to my old trade.” Lin Sheng used to work as an ancient text translator in his past life. Fortunately, the Rehn writings in this world were akin to Old English on Earth; it was relatively obscure but not hard to make out the rough meaning since Lin Sheng was quite an expert at it.

“I’ll just treat this like I’m learning another foreign language. If this book’s really legible…” Lin Sheng was full of anticipation and curiosity.

He was keen to know what this book in his dream was about. Was it just as the book cover suggested and was about ancient swordsmanship? If this book was comprehensible, would it mean that he could also translate and read the other books on the shelves?

Lin Sheng was on tenterhooks but quickly made up his mind to memorize the content on the first page of the same book for the first time. It was the same book from which he deciphered the text on the cover.

Time was ticking away.

Lin Sheng repeatedly recited a small passage from the first page with the aid of a light, which seemed to have come from nowhere.

Memorizing a paragraph of ancient text without knowing the meaning was tough. Nonetheless, Lin Sheng had been in the trade before so he used his own way to memorize the entire paragraph on the first page.