Perspective: Zhuge Yui Lan
Yui Lan woke up early that morning.
The first light of dawn filtered through the white silk curtains, tinting the room with a pale blue hue. The air was fresh and clean, and the distant murmur of waves breaking along the shores of Zhuge Island reached her like a familiar whisper — a reminder that, despite everything, this was still her home.
She rose slowly and in silence, as she did every morning. The room was simple, yet meticulously organized: a small writing desk, a light wooden screen carved with floral motifs, and a bronze mirror where the soft reflection of her figure appeared as she prepared herself.
She dressed calmly, without haste.
First, the white robe of light fabric; then the blue mantle that fell to her ankles, traced with silver lines mimicking the flow of water. Finally, she tied her hair into a simple bun, leaving two thin strands to frame her face.
The result was serene, almost ethereal — an appearance fitting for someone who carried within her more than one lifetime.
Even after reincarnating into her younger self, Yui Lan still kept habits that belonged to the woman she once was. Time had given her many lessons, but the most valuable one was clear: power fades — knowledge remains.
And that was why, even before the sun had fully risen, she was already walking through the clan's corridors.
Servants greeted her discreetly — some with respect, others with curiosity. The young lady who now walked among them seemed far too calm, far too studious — and, to many, far too mysterious. But Yui Lan didn't care. There were more important things to understand than other people's gazes.
Her destination, as on most days, was the Zhuge Clan Library.
The grand building of white marble stood at the center of the main complex, surrounded by carefully tended gardens. Lilies and small bluish flowers bloomed between the stones of the path, exhaling a delicate fragrance. The sound of distant fountains made the atmosphere even more peaceful.
Upon entering, Yui Lan was greeted by the scent of aged parchment and polished wood. The shelves stretched in every direction — rows upon rows of books, manuscripts, and records of bygone eras. Natural light streamed through circular skylights, glimmering across specks of dust suspended in the air like tiny motes of energy.
She made her way to the northern wing, where she had personally organized the scrolls and notes concerning continental history and politics.
Even after all her lives, the world still held too many secrets.
In her previous life, after the Zhuge Clan's destruction, Yui Lan had spent little time in the northern continent. She had fled, wandered, sought refuge — but had never truly understood the web of forces shaping that part of the world.
Now, everything was different.
If she was to change destiny, she needed to understand the board.
And the library was the first step.
That was why studying had become an essential part of her routine. For weeks, she had been poring over records of trade routes, alliances, and wars from the far north. Among ancient columns and maps, the portrait of the region surrounding Zhuge Island began to take shape in her mind.
The far north was not a land of giants — not in political terms.
In truth, it was one of the most fragile regions of the continent.
No advanced colossus ruled there.
Power was divided among ten great forces of intermediate colossus rank and thirty-two of initial colossus rank.
Those thirty-two inevitably orbited the ten — like moons bound by the gravity of greater stars.
It was an unstable, yet functional equilibrium.
A web of dependencies and favors, fragile alliances and ancient rivalries.
And among those thirty-two minor powers, Zhuge Island stood as an exception — an independent territory, without lord or protector, that remained outside any sphere of influence.
That made it a delicate point in northern geopolitics —
a coveted territory that no one dared to claim openly;
a free fragment in a continent bound by invisible chains.
Yui Lan knew that.
She knew that the clan's independence was both its greatest strength and its most dangerous weakness.
Still, no matter how much she read, how many patterns or alliances she sought, she found no easy answer.
To resolve something so complex would require more than strength or diplomacy.
It would require something greater — something she had yet to define.
But thankfully, not everything had to be solved today.
Not today.
Because this day, in particular, was not an ordinary one.
It was special — and Yui Lan had known that from the moment she opened her eyes.
Before noon arrived, she closed the last scroll she had been studying.
The soft rustle of parchment echoed faintly through the silent library, followed by the quiet glide of her footsteps across the wooden floor.
She had read enough for the day.
Or rather — enough to confirm what she already suspected.
With slow, precise movements, she returned the texts to their proper places, aligning each volume until the shelves looked untouched once more. Then she adjusted the sleeve of her blue mantle and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of old parchment mixed with the distant aroma of incense burning in the halls.
The air inside the library felt heavy — dense with centuries and memories.
Outside, however, the wind was light.
Yui Lan walked to the exit. The contrast was immediate — the cool breeze of Zhuge Island brushed her face, carrying the salty scent of the sea and the distant murmur of waves against the rocks. The sky was clear, a translucent blue, and sunlight shimmered over the jade surfaces and curved rooftops of the clan's main complex.
She followed the stone path lined with pines and cherry trees, each step measured and unhurried.
But beneath her serenity, something pulsed — an old unease, a premonition.
She knew what would happen today.
Even so, she needed to see it with her own eyes.
The corridor leading to the throne hall was wide and silent. Ancient tapestries lined the walls, portraying past generations of the Zhuge Clan — men and women with calm eyes and firm posture, holding spears, swords, scrolls, and above all, the same austere expression of those born to power.
When she turned the last corner, the sight before her did not surprise her.
Before the imposing double doors of the hall, several young women in elegant robes waited in silence. Their garments varied in color and detail, but each bore the same embroidered crest on the chest — a swan in mid-flight, the symbol of Zhuge blood.
They were her sisters —
the younger generation of the clan.
Some whispered quietly; others stood still, focused. The air around them vibrated with expectation — and tension. The day of an important announcement always made the atmosphere this way: silent, yet charged.
Yui Lan observed them from a distance. Their postures, their gazes, even the way they breathed — all revealed the same thing: they were about to compete.
She paused for a moment, studying the scene with sharp eyes.
There was no fear there. Only ambition. Determination.
A faint smile curved her lips.
It was exactly what she had hoped to see.
The hall doors were still closed, but their mere presence confirmed what she had already guessed: the internal clan tournament would soon be announced.
A brutal, inevitable contest — where the new generation of heirs would test their strength under the cold eyes of the elders and the throne.
She didn't need to hear the announcement.
That small gathering of sisters before the doors of power was proof enough.
Yui Lan watched for a few more seconds, her smile remaining — gentle, almost melancholic. Then, calmly, she turned and walked away.
As she moved back through the corridors, the distant murmur of voices faded behind her, replaced by the steady rhythm of her own steps.
The path to her quarters was long but familiar. She passed through silent gardens, where flowers bent under the cool breeze, and through narrow passages where the echo of her steps seemed to linger across ages.
She didn't hurry.
There was no need.
Seeing her sisters gathered there was all she needed — the certainty that the cycle was about to begin again.
An internal tournament always meant the same things: blood, rivalry, alliances, and downfall.
But Yui Lan wasn't worried.
She knew her brother would handle it — he always did.
And among them all, he was the only one capable of restraining chaos before chaos consumed the clan.
For now, her focus was elsewhere.
Another priority awaited.
As she crossed the final stone arch leading to her private quarters, the wind made her blue mantle flutter softly behind her. Sunlight pierced the silk veil of the window, spilling across the marble floor and tracing her path with light.
Yui Lan stopped before the door to her room and drew a deep breath.
The smile that had once been discreet now carried a different meaning.
She had her confirmation.
And that could only mean one thing — it was time to set the next stage of her plan into motion.