The midnight air was frigid, and the wind howled through the cracks in the wooden walls. Zhang Xin lay in bed, cocooned in blankets, unaware that this night would mark the beginning of a life-altering journey. In the depths of his slumber, a strange and vivid dream began to unfold.
Zhang Xin found himself standing at the peak of a towering mountain. The wind roared around him, wild and free, yet he felt an exhilarating sense of control. His heart raced with confidence, power surging through his veins like never before. He marveled at the view—the endless sky, the craggy peaks below, the vast world spread out before him. In that moment, he felt invincible.
But then, a figure appeared beside him. Zhang Xin turned, and there, standing tall and proud, was his father—alive, vibrant, and smiling as though nothing had changed. The sight of him made Zhang Xin's heart leap in both joy and confusion.
"Father...?" Zhang Xin whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
His father smiled warmly, his eyes gleaming with pride. He reached into his robe and pulled out a ring—a simple yet elegant band, glowing with an inner light.
"This is for you, my son," his father said, his voice carrying a deep, resonant strength. "Take it. It will guide you."
Zhang Xin extended his hand, and his father gently slipped the ring onto his finger. At first, it felt cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth in his father's gaze. But as soon as the ring settled in place, a comforting warmth began to spread through his body, filling him with a sense of calm and purpose.
Before he could speak, to ask what it meant, or why his father had given him such an item, a splash of cold water broke the moment. Zhang Xin gasped, his eyes snapping open.
The dream shattered like glass, and he found himself back in his small room, drenched in cold water. His body jerked, and he sat up with a start, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. The remnants of the dream clung to him like a fog.
"Wake up, dreamer," a familiar voice rang out, breaking through the haze. It was his uncle, Li, standing at the edge of his bed, a mischievous grin on his face as he held an empty cup. "The sun's already up, and school won't wait."
Zhang Xin rubbed his eyes, still feeling the strange warmth from the ring in his dream. He looked around the room, disoriented. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on the walls. He could hear the faint sound of birds outside.
"Ugh, what time is it?" Zhang Xin muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.
"It's past seven," Li said, chuckling as he set the cup down. "You were dreaming again, huh?
Zhang Xin forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering feeling from the dream. His uncle, who had been his guardian since he was five years old, always had a way of lightening the mood. Li had been there for him through thick and thin, ever since the tragic accident that took his father's life.
"Yeah, something like that," Zhang Xin replied, still trying to process the dream and the feeling of the ring on his finger. But it was fading, slipping further away with each passing second. "I... I'll get ready."
After a quick breakfast, Zhang Xin grabbed his worn-out bicycle and set off toward school. The crisp morning air bit at his skin, clearing the remnants of sleep from his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed within him after the dream—the ring, his father's presence, and the strange sense of purpose that seemed to follow him.
He arrived at school, his mind still caught between the real world and the vivid remnants of his dream. As he locked up his bicycle and made his way to class, he saw Jun waiting for him. Jun, the school's notorious bully, was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.
"Well, well, look who decided to show up," Jun sneered as Zhang Xin approached.
Zhang Xin braced himself. "What do you want, Jun?"
Jun's grin widened. He stepped forward, snatching Zhang Xin's book out of his hands and tearing a page from it, tossing it to the ground. "What's wrong, Zhang? You going to cry?"
For a moment, Zhang Xin froze, the familiar rush of helplessness flooding his chest. But then, something unexpected stirred within him. The words of his father echoed in his mind: This will guide you.
Zhang Xin clenched his fists, feeling the warmth of the ring under his sleeve. "Enough, Jun," he said, his voice firmer than he'd ever heard it before, surprising even himself.
Jun paused, eyebrow raised. He expected to see fear, but instead, Zhang Xin stood tall, his gaze unwavering. Jun's smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered and shoved Zhang Xin aside. "Whatever, loser. You're not worth my time."
As Zhang Xin picked up his torn book and walked away, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction—a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He made his way to his seat, his heart still pounding from the confrontation. The rest of the day passed in a blur, his mind racing with thoughts of the dream and the strange change he felt within himself.
After school, Zhang Xin headed to his part-time job at a small restaurant. The evening was busy, but as the rain began pouring down outside, the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant turned quiet and somber. The storm forced them to close early, leaving Zhang Xin with a sense of loss, as if he had missed an opportunity.
Soaked and exhausted, he trudged home, his mind heavy with the weight of his struggles—his school life, Jun's bullying, and his part-time job. The familiar sense of sorrow settled in his chest. Seeking solace, Zhang Xin decided to visit his father's grave. The cemetery, quiet and still, offered him a place of reflection.
Kneeling before the gravestone, he whispered, "Father, I miss you. I wish you were here to guide me… just once."
As he closed his eyes, a glint caught his attention. His hand brushed the earth beside the grave, and there, partially buried, was a small, silver ring. It was old, unadorned, yet it seemed to beckon to him with an undeniable pull. Without thinking, Zhang Xin slipped the ring onto his finger.
The moment the ring settled, he felt a rush of warmth, just like in his dream. The rain ceased, and an inexplicable calm washed over him. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace. He tucked the ring into his pocket, unsure of what it meant, but certain that it held significance.
As Zhang Xin made his way home, the strange sense of hope filled him—a feeling he hadn't known he was missing. When he arrived back, he found his uncle Li asleep on the couch, unaware of the events that had just unfolded. Zhang Xin quietly retreated to his room, placing the ring on his table before collapsing into bed, his mind spinning with questions.
The next morning, Zhang Xin woke up to the bright light of dawn. As he stretched and reached for the side of his bed, his hand brushed against the ring. Surprised, he looked down—there it was, snug on his finger. He was sure he had left it on the table the night before.
Confused but unfazed, Zhang Xin decided to wear the ring. The day ahead felt different—something had shifted, but he couldn't quite place it. When he arrived at school, he knew he'd have to face Jun again.
Sure enough, as he walked through the gates, Jun approached, a cocky grin plastered on his face. "Ready to get humiliated again, Zhang?" Jun jeered, pushing him with a rough shove.
But this time, as Zhang Xin instinctively raised his hand in defense, the ring suddenly pulsed with blinding light. The world around him vanished in an instant—school, Jun, and everything else was swallowed up by the brilliance of the ring. In its place, a vast, strange realm stretched out before him.
His heart pounded as he tried to make sense of the surreal transformation. The journey had begun.