From the perspective of Zhuge Su Yeon
The training ground was shrouded in twilight, as if the world had forgotten to light the lamps of the night. The moon, however, insisted on compensating for the absence: silver, solemn, almost at its zenith.
I observed it.
Zhuge Lin remained at the center of the courtyard, posture firm, eyes half-closed, the rhythmic breath of cultivation escaping her lips like gentle mist. The moonlight, which should have fallen indiscriminately upon the frozen ground, seemed to favor her figure. The rays descended in delicate lines and, instead of dispersing, were little by little absorbed into the young woman's body. Not as something forced, but as children returning home after a long absence.
It was a silent spectacle.
A spectacle that, nevertheless, did not surprise me.
I shifted my gaze from her to the side, where the translucent screen of the system hovered like a painting made by the hand of a divine bureaucrat. The information was displayed in order, cold, organized, as if summarizing a human being were no more than filling out a file.
Profile of Zhuge Lin
Name: Zhuge Lin Age: 16 years Cultivation: Spiritual Refinement – 1st Level Potency: Cyan Martial Physique: Lunar Yin Body Martial Soul: Dancing Blade Mental State: Enthusiastic Spiritual Profession: None
Most of this information was not new. The system always offered it with insolence, as though flaunting labels on a shelf. But there was one line — only one — that had not existed until recently.
Martial Physique.
That detail had cost twenty thousand points.
Twenty thousand.
A price that would make most cultivators spit blood and curse the heavens for such cruelty. For me, however, it was not waste. It was investment.
I smiled faintly, discreet.
After all, Zhuge Lin's most obvious weakness had always been her predictability. Each strike of hers seemed written beforehand, each step measured before it was taken. It was like watching a play rehearsed too much, where even the mistakes had already been choreographed.
Now, however, everything made sense.
The Lunar Yin Body did not reveal itself in explosions of flame or roars of thunder. It shaped her very essence — her movements, her rhythm, her cadence. What once seemed rigidity was perhaps only a dance waiting for the right moon to break free.
And there she was, wrapped in moonlight, absorbing it as a blade silently sharpening itself.
My finger slid slowly along the glowing panel until it rested on the line I had purchased with twenty thousand points.
[Martial Physique: Lunar Yin Body]
The screen quivered as if breathing, and then a new window opened before me, revealing words that were not letters, but decrees:
Lunar Yin Body – Cyan Halo
A rare physique, woven by the veil of the moon and nourished by the cold essence of Yin. Its bearers are few, and among them, only the rarest reach maturity without being consumed by the fragile balance between shadow and light.
Main Characteristics:
Lunar Flow:
The user's cultivation is twice as fast at night.
During the day, however, progress is halved, as though the sun burns each thread of advancement before it can be woven. Solar Suppression and Lunar Amplification:
Under daylight, the bearer's physical and spiritual abilities are suppressed. Strikes become slow, techniques shallow, the body heavy.
At nightfall, the opposite occurs: Qi circulates with greater fluidity, physical strength and spiritual power are naturally amplified. Full Moon – The Crown of the Lunar Body:
During the full moon at its zenith, the Lunar Yin Body reveals its true splendor.
All the bearer's senses and powers are multiplied by at least tenfold, transforming them into something beyond human — a living reflection of the very moon upon the earth.
Spiritual perception expands like the tide, physical resistance becomes a fortress, and every technique takes on unusual brilliance and potency.
Risks and Observations:
The physique depends on celestial cycles; outside the night, its strength is that of a sheathed blade.
The bearer must learn to endure periods of daytime weakness, or they will become vulnerable prey.
But if guided correctly, a cultivator with the Lunar Yin Body can become one of the sharpest swords of Yin — unpredictable, inevitable, and impossible to face under the moonlight.
I closed my eyes for an instant, letting the description echo in my mind. It was not merely a rare physique. It was a double-edged weapon, demanding patience and strategy.
At night, a goddess.
By day, a shadow.
It was no coincidence that Lin had seemed predictable until now. She always fought beneath the sun, when her very essence was stifled. What others called rigidity was, in truth, a dance chained.
Under the moonlight, however… that dance would have no shackles.
I watched Lin for a few more seconds.
The moonlight, stubborn in crowning her, seemed to make her silhouette more defined, almost ethereal. With each breath, her Qi circulated like a calm tide, and I could swear that even the wind around her had quieted so as not to break the rhythm.
I sighed, the low sound dissolving into the silence of the training ground.
Now that I knew the truth of her physique, there was no doubt: Lin would soar in her cultivation. The Lunar Yin Body would transform her from predictable apprentice into a blade difficult to restrain. Yes, there would be difficulties — the burden of mornings, the vulnerability beneath the sun — but nothing that truly balanced the absurd advantage she carried.
She did not need me to watch over her.
Not for now.
I adjusted the sleeves of my robe and turned, leaving behind the scene that looked more like a painting painted by the heavens themselves. My steps echoed against the cold stones, moving away from the silent courtyard.
The training ground remained behind me, bathed in moonlight, with Lin absorbing each ray as if breathing destiny.
I, however, had another path to tread.
I knew that, in my room, the calm breeze would not be waiting for me. There, a new problem was already seated, patient, waiting for my arrival as if it were an inevitable part of the narrative.
And I advanced to meet it.
Yu Jin had already left the clan five days ago.
There were still a little over three and a half months until the capital, until the stage where destiny awaited him with its crimson curtains of blood and glory. The haste was his — as always.
Lan Xue, on the other hand, remained. Even with her rapid growth, her foundation was still fixed at the fourth level of Body Refinement. Forcing her to follow Yu Jin would be no different than releasing a kite into a storm. The clan's walls and resources were gentler, more solid, than the vast road to the capital, where every shadow hid schemes that not even ten lifetimes would suffice to decipher.
My footsteps echoed along the silent corridor until, turning the last corner, I saw her.
In front of my room's door, a small lady waited patiently. Her blue eyes were so clear they resembled the very sky reflected in ice. No words, no impatient gesture — only calm presence, almost solemn.
Zhuge Yui Lan.
I did not need to ask the reason for her visit. I already knew what the subject would be.
Even so, I was not willing to have it.
But unfortunately, some parts of the narrative are simply inevitable.
I watched my sister as I approached.
Her pale skin, in natural contrast with her black hair, reflected the moonlight like porcelain beneath ink. Yui Lan seemed even more delicate that night — but her eyes, blue as the very sky, did not allow delicacy to be mistaken for fragility.
— That little brother of yours left five days ago… — I murmured, letting my voice sound like a casual comment, though both of us knew it was not. — Don't tell me my dear sister also intends to head to the capital and stir up some trouble with the great sects.
She did not deny it.
She only nodded, agreeing with the serenity of someone who had already anticipated the question.
Her face, however, was a mosaic of contradictory feelings: determination, yes, but tinged with an almost childish unwillingness. I knew that look. Yu Jin ran toward destiny as one defies the heavens. Yui Lan, on the other hand, walked through it as one accepts a burden. It was not honor, it was not glory — it was necessity.
I sighed inwardly.
To control a reincarnator? Not even the author of this story could do such a thing. Each of her lines was already written in layers I would not dare to decipher.
— What are your plans? — I asked, knowing the answer was already drawn in silence.
She took a deep breath before speaking:
— During the stay of the imperial censor, I helped his daughter with a small illness. As thanks, he recommended me to the Imperial School of Medicine. I am to leave in five days.
A coincidence… one of those the author likes to stitch as if it were fate.
The silence stretched between us. I observed my sister calmly, until at last I said:
— Some elders will escort you to the capital.
There was no real need. I knew that. Yui Lan had already reached the first level of Spiritual Refinement, and with that little poison-wielding helper always at her shadow, the journey would be nothing more than a stroll. But still, it was my duty to guarantee proper protection.
She did not refuse.
— Thank you very much, brother. — she replied, before hugging me.
I returned it with a faint smile and a touch of irony:
— Silly girl. Don't forget to return to the clan often. Don't be rebellious like your little brother.
— Alright. — she said simply, her voice soft as snow.
The conversation did not last much longer. Soon she withdrew, and I was left only with the uncomfortable certainty that, among all of us, perhaps Yui Lan was the busiest. Her schedule did not follow the clan's clock, but the invisible gears of another life.
I did not linger. I entered my room in silence.
My two little monsters were leaving — each for the stage that belonged to them.
And I… I also had some matters to settle.