Year of the Sapphire Ox – Time to Shine
Three Hooves, Wednesday the 13th – Flying Sword Sect Inner Court
It was the third morning after the Glaring Pudding Incident (in which a junior disciple dared to present a breakfast custard that jiggled unevenly and was spiritually judged into oblivion by Xu Lihua's left eyebrow), and peace had once again settled over the Flying Sword Sect.
Sect Master Xu Zhongshan had just finished reviewing a scroll detailing spatial anomalies in the outer formation ring, sipping his morning tea, when the door to his study slammed open with all the dainty subtlety of an imperial decree wrapped in silk and thrown by a divine toddler.
"Father, we require your audience."
Zhongshan looked up.
The twins stood in the doorway, hands folded, expressions grave.
They were four.
They were also, at this moment, projecting the combined energy of a sect delegation preparing for war negotiations.
"...Good morning, daughters," he said warily. "Did something happen?"
"Yes," Meilin said.
"No," Lihua corrected.
"Nothing happened," Meilin conceded, "and that is the problem."
Zhongshan blinked. "Do elaborate."
The twins stepped forward in practiced synchronicity. Mei'er and Hua'er trailed behind them carrying scrolls, blueprints, and a budget ledger.
Lihua spoke first. "We've been reviewing the internal architecture of the east compound."
"We have," Meilin confirmed. "And we've identified two abundant cultivation rooms that are by both record and witness completely unused."
"For the last ninety-eight years, three months, and twelve days," Lihua added.
"Uncle An says they were last used during the foggy moss outbreak and then left to collect dust," Meilin supplied.
"We've since spoken to Auntie Chen," said Lihua, "and verified it through the spiritual registry. No one wants them. Therefore…"
They both clasped their hands in front of their tiny bodies and bowed simultaneously.
"We would like to requisition those cultivation rooms as our personal training chambers."
Zhongshan choked slightly on his tea.
"I—sorry, what?"
Meilin continued: "It is not about privilege. We know the Flying Sword Sect encourages shared discipline and collective cultivation, and we support this system. However "
Lihua picked up smoothly: " our respective constitutions require environments that can be adapted to our specific polarities. Sharing public cultivation chambers reduces the efficacy of our breakthroughs and increases internal dissonance."
Meilin unrolled a scroll. "Here is our proposed restructuring for the Frost Room. I've calculated the spirit stone drain at 0.7% above standard, offset by integration with the ice lotus root grid system beneath the east wall."
Lihua presented her own scroll. "Here is the modification request for the Flame Room. I will be requesting installation of a fire-core chamber stone, but I can personally forge the inscriptions over the course of the next two months if resource allocation is tight."
They both bowed again.
Zhongshan stared.
The doors creaked open again, and Xu Minzhi strolled in, calmly brushing snowflakes off her shoulder. She glanced at the display of scrolls and the girls' solemn faces, then looked to her husband.
"Have they asked for the cultivation rooms yet?"
"...Yes," Zhongshan said, dazed.
Minzhi gave him a satisfied nod. "Told you it'd be today."
The girls stood with absolute composure.
They were not demanding.
They were negotiating.
With diagrams.
And citations.
Zhongshan leaned back in his chair and exhaled. "You realize those rooms were abandoned because they're built over unstable spiritual nodes."
"We do," Meilin replied.
"And we factored that into our designs," Lihua added. "I've added stabilizing formations here, here, and here—" she pointed with a tiny finger, "—which should reduce flare risk by seventy-four percent."
"They'll still occasionally pulse," Zhongshan said.
"We don't mind," said Meilin.
"Sometimes breakthroughs require disruption," said Lihua.
Minzhi raised a hand. "And what if others ask for their own rooms?"
"We encourage it," Meilin said.
"As long as they can justify the expense and the space," Lihua said. "We've prepared a protocol proposal for requisitions if you'd like to review it."
Hua'er gently pulled another scroll from her sleeve.
Mei'er passed the ink-brushed seal confirming their official petition.
Zhongshan finally laughed. "You two are… four."
"You've mentioned this before," Meilin said.
"We're aware," Lihua echoed.
"And you already have inner sea puddles."
"Father," Meilin said softly, "we respect our place in the sect. But we were not born to coast. We were born to cultivate."
"To contribute," Lihua said.
"To excel," Meilin finished.
Zhongshan looked at his wife.
Minzhi smirked. "You going to deny our daughters their first bureaucratic victory?"
He grumbled, rolled up the scrolls, and stamped them with his personal approval seal.
"Room keys will be delivered this evening."
The twins bowed. "Thank you, Father."
They turned and walked out, scrolls in hand, strategy whispering between them already.
As the door closed behind them, Minzhi poured her husband more tea.
"Your daughter has designed an insulation formation that outperforms Elder Lin's last five constructs," she said mildly.
"She's four," Zhongshan muttered.
"She's our daughter," Minzhi replied.
Later that evening, Zhenyan found the girls outside the cultivation chambers, painting glyphs with brushes longer than their arms.
"You're four," he said.
They didn't look up.
"We're busy," said Meilin.
"Come back when you're not bottlenecked," said Lihua.