From Zhuge Su Yeon's Perspective
Yeon cultivated through the entire night.
Whatever was happening—whether it was fate toying with him yet again, or some uncreative author trying to steer his story like a cheap cliché—he had no intention of wasting time on it.
In the end, he decided he couldn't let any of this become what mattered most. What mattered was his own plan of silent cultivation.
As long as he grew strong enough, the rest was nothing but noise.
Rumors, intrigues, prophecies… all of it could be silenced beneath the weight of a single strike, if he had the power to back it.
So he cultivated.
And cultivated.
Until the first rays of sunlight broke through the gray shroud of the sky, faintly illuminating his room.
The space he lived in reflected him perfectly: minimalist.
A simple bed of light wood, always impeccably arranged.
A low table with a few scrolls neatly stacked, a closed inkwell, and a brush aligned at its side.
A narrow wardrobe with three identical sets of robes.
No luxury, no excess. Only the essential.
He rose in silence. Dressed in his usual white robe. Tied back his long black hair with a jade comb.
Before the polished bronze mirror on the wall, he studied his own image for a moment. The serenity in his eyes wasn't that of someone who believed in fate, but of someone who had already decided not to waste time arguing with it.
Then he left.
It was time to go to the Ancestral Hall.
Perhaps today would be the day his younger brother finally appeared.
And with him would come the answers he needed… and the decisions that could no longer be delayed.
Whatever fate had prepared for this day, Yeon felt ready.
Unfortunately, he quickly realized he wasn't.
The moment he stepped out of his room, Yeon encountered one of his siblings—but not the one he expected.
Standing at the entrance to the courtyard was a beautiful young woman. Her black hair fell gently over her shoulders, held only by a simple silver ornament. The contrast only heightened the intensity of her eyes, a crystalline blue, deep as an ocean of emotions. But now, they were filled with desperation.
The instant she saw him, she ran forward without hesitation and embraced him.
It was Zhuge Yui Lan.
His sister.
And Yu Jin's twin.
Truthfully, Yeon should have asked why she was like that—but he couldn't.
The only thing that caught his attention was her face… or rather, what was missing from it.
Zhuge Yui Lan had always been a celestial beauty, but all her life she had borne a birthmark across her delicate face. A mark that had drawn stares, whispers, and silent torment since childhood.
Now, that mark was simply gone.
Yeon's mind faltered, as if reality itself had glitched before his eyes.
His thoughts repeated the same question again and again—
Impossible. How did I never notice this?
The reason for Yeon's panic was simple enough.
The night before, his mind had wandered through countless memories of novels, trying to connect Yu Jin's life with the clichés he knew. To his misfortune, the parallels had been far too many.
But this case was different.
Now, watching his sister cry before him, her birthmark vanished, Yeon couldn't help but remember: wasn't this exactly how most female-centered novels began?
Especially those about medicine.
Yeon was stunned.
He couldn't afford to let more doubts pile up in his mind.
So he forced the calmest expression he could muster and asked softly:
"Yui Lan, what happened? Are you alright?"
Still clinging to him, she answered in a trembling voice:
"Mm… I'm fine. Better now."
Only after several seconds did she pull away. Yeon didn't push her off—he simply waited.
"What happened?" he pressed.
"I'm fine. I just… missed you, I think," she said, eyes averted.
Seeing her reluctance to give a clear answer, Yeon went straight to the point:
"Your face… your mark. It's gone."
As he spoke, his hand lifted toward her cheek. For an instant, he saw something flash in Yui Lan's eyes—too quick to grasp, but undeniable. Soon after, she regained her composure.
"Oh, that… I woke up and it was just gone. Maybe it was just some skin shedding…"
A flimsy excuse. Improvised on the spot.
"How is that possible?" Yeon pressed. "So many doctors said it couldn't be removed."
His sister smiled gently, but evasively.
"I guess I was simply lucky. Maybe it's a blessing."
Yeon wasn't convinced. But he had no chance to press further.
Suddenly, Yui Lan embraced him tightly again.
"Brother, I have to go. Take care of yourself. Don't forget your meals."
Before he could react, she darted away, disappearing down the corridors of the courtyard.
He was left standing there, alone with doubts hammering at his mind.
With mechanical movements, Yeon opened his golden finger.
Still staring at the spot where his sister had just stood, he wasted no time.
The system responded instantly to his thought, its translucent interface unfolding before his eyes.
Without hesitation, Yeon navigated to the members tab.
And ignoring everything else, he went straight to Zhuge Yui Lan's profile.
If his intuition was right, this would confirm something he didn't want to even admit aloud.
And if he was wrong… at least it would eliminate one more doubt from the list that seemed to grow with every dawn.
Spiritual Profile: Yui Lan
Age: 17 Cultivation: Body Refinement – Sublevel 3
▸ Spiritual Potential – Cost: 20,000 points
▸ Martial Physique – Cost: 20,000 points
▸ Martial Souls – Cost: 10,000 points
▸ Mental State – Cost: 4,500 points
▸ Spiritual Profession – Cost: 200,000 points
Yeon stood frozen before the information for more than ten minutes.
His body still as a statue abandoned in the hall.
But inside, his mind burned with theories.
Every detail seemed to confirm something he refused to accept.
And yet, denial was impossible.
At last, he let out a long, resigned sigh.
With a thought, he closed the system's interface and continued toward the Ancestral Hall.
His doubts weren't gone.
But in truth, there was little more he could do.
All he could do was accept what now lay before his eyes:
He was living inside a story full of bad clichés.
And, ironically, he had judged the author too harshly.
No, the writer wasn't entirely uncreative.
To stand apart from the rest, he had chosen an even more absurd path: not one, but two destined protagonists.
And they were twins.
A boy… and a girl.
Yeon could almost imagine the title plastered across the top of some cheap novel:
"I Have Twin Brothers."