"Good morning, little brother."
In the palace corridor, drenched in the first light of dawn, the young woman paused, her slender eyelashes fluttering in the early sun.
Her fingers unconsciously traced the folds of her skirt. Perturabo had knelt before her for so long yesterday, it still unsettled her heart.
He owed her nothing; they hadn't even known each other before. Yet Caelan had demanded Perturabo apologize to her.
Caelan called it being 'twisted,' but the young woman felt he wasn't. A twisted person wouldn't admit they were twisted. It seemed more like tormenting someone under the guise of twistedness. The girl couldn't help feeling indignant for the boy.
Even if he had truly done wrong, shouldn't he at least be told the reason?
How could one apologize without knowing the fault?
Even though Caelan forced Perturabo to admit fault to her, Perturabo probably wouldn't repent and reform because of it. Instead, it would likely plant seeds of resentment in his heart.
Caelan's forcefulness would only make Perturabo resent him, and also take it out on Calliphone.
Like a ball forcibly submerged in water, no matter how much pressure is applied, the moment it's released, it will rebound with even greater force.
Caelan could force him to bow his head, but who could erase that trampled pride?
The young woman was a little afraid of Perturabo. Afraid that this newly acquired brother would resent her for yesterday's apology.
"Good morning, sister." Perturabo stood among the pillars dappled with morning light. When the young woman's greeting sounded, he responded with a polite but distant reply.
Actually, he had been waiting here for her all along. He needed some answers from Calliphone.
Calliphone wanted to explain. At least she had to say something, to avoid leaving any hard feelings.
The girl mustered her courage and took half a step forward.
"I'm sorry."
Calliphone and Perturabo spoke in unison.
Perturabo frowned, "Why apologize to me? Are you sympathizing with me?"
"No, not sympathy." The young woman's voice was as light as a feather. "I just... didn't want you to... because of yesterday..."
Her eyes darted away slightly. Perturabo caught her look, "You're afraid I'll resent you?"
Calliphone lowered her head like a startled white swan, revealing a pale nape, "I... yesterday..."
Perturabo said, "I don't resent you."
Calliphone pressed her pale pink lips together. She dared to glance up, only to hurriedly look down the moment her eyes met Perturabo's.
"Caelan's bizarre whims have nothing to do with you, sister." Perturabo's tone softened slightly. "You don't need to blame yourself. I won't resent anyone because of this."
Calliphone blurted out, "Even after he treated you like that?"
Perturabo gazed at his sister. The morning light gilded her delicate profile with a soft outline.
"He never truly hurt me."
The young woman found it hard to speak, "But yesterday, he forced you... to kneel..."
"He has forced me to do many things, far more than you can imagine. My body is unscathed, yet my mind is enriched by it. I have truly learned a great deal."
"The only wounds he has left on me are my repeatedly trampled pride."
"So I must find out the reason. What do I owe you?"
The young woman's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum, "I don't know."
Perturabo wasn't surprised by this answer. He took half a step forward, "Sister, did we know each other before yesterday?"
Calliphone shook her head, "Yesterday was the first time I saw you."
"So, I haven't harmed you in the past, nor in the present. The answer lies in the future."
Calliphone's eyes widened in disbelief, "How is that possible?"
Perturabo, "But when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."
The young woman lowered her eyes thoughtfully, "That's very philosophical."
"He taught me that." A flicker of complex emotion crossed Perturabo's eyes.
Calliphone's lips parted slightly in surprise.
Perturabo's gaze passed through the corridor window, towards the jagged mountains in the distance. "On the way to Lochos, he prattled on about many things. Knowledge entered my brain in a very novel way."
Calliphone asked, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because of the twistedness."
The young woman blinked in confusion.
"He truly is a twisted person. He claims I am one too."
Calliphone suddenly understood, "So, the more he conceals, the more you feel compelled to be open?"
Although being open wasn't wrong, Calliphone felt a subtle sense of incongruity.
If he bottled it up, it would confirm his nature as a twisted person.
If he spoke frankly, it was just another form of twistedness, a direct challenge to Caelan.
It seemed like an inescapable trap.
Admitting fault meant submitting to Caelan's authority; sticking to his guns confirmed the accusation of rebellion.
Caelan had locked Perturabo in an invisible cage. Whether he gnawed at the bars or curled up in a corner, he couldn't change his nature as a prisoner.
Perturabo, "Using bronze as a mirror, one can correct one's attire; using history as a mirror, one can understand the rise and fall of dynasties; using people as a mirror, one can perceive gains and losses."
Calliphone's voice carried undisguised surprise, "Did he teach you this, too?"
Caelan's education held profound philosophy. His every move exuded the composure of a sage. Yet he deliberately acted outrageously under the guise of twistedness.
Caelan didn't seem like a twisted person at all. So why was he so twisted?
"Just yesterday, Caelan apologized to your... our father, for his offensive words and actions."
Calliphone tilted her head slightly, "So, as long as you can find that reason, he will also bow his head and admit fault to you?"
A rare flicker of admiration showed in Perturabo's eyes, "You are indeed very clever, sister."
The young woman's slender fingers covered her lips, unable to hide a hint of smugness. Of course she was clever!
"He didn't promise me, but I could sense the implication in his words."
Calliphone frowned slightly, "But if it's something that will happen in the future, how will you find the truth?"
Perturabo answered, "The answer lies within us. We have to find it."
The young woman tilted her head in confusion, "But how do we find it?"
"Sister, have you had breakfast yet?"
"Not yet."
"I guess you'll have bread for breakfast."
The young woman smiled helplessly, "I have bread for breakfast every day."
She suddenly widened her eyes, "You want to deduce the future trajectory from past patterns?"
"Exactly." Perturabo was confident.
"But we only met today."
Perturabo stated, "Thoughts determine actions, actions determine habits, habits determine character, character determines destiny."
"Some stories haven't happened yet, but their endings are already predetermined."
"Sister, you are clever and kind. So the fault cannot lie with you. It must be in my character."
Calliphone blinked, "What if I'm pretending?"
Perturabo replied, "That's why I came here to verify myself."
Calliphone watched this precocious boy. An indescribable sense lingered in her heart.
Though Perturabo's analysis was correct, the more rationally he dissected, the more Calliphone felt...
Perturabo questioned, "What did you notice, sister?"
"Maybe I'm mistaken." Calliphone's voice was as light as a feather.
Perturabo took half a step forward, "Sister, if you truly want to help me, you should tell me."
"I think..." Calliphone hesitated for a moment. "You are twisted. And you are becoming more twisted."
Perturabo's pupils contracted slightly. This sentence was like a key, instantly unlocking a certain repressed emotion in Perturabo's eyes.
Caelan had said the same. He was twisted. And he had denied it all along. He didn't want to become like Caelan.
"Like right now," Calliphone continued, summoning her courage. "You clearly care about my opinion, yet you insist on pretending you don't."
Words like awkward, stubborn, eccentric, contradictory, none captured it as well as 'twisted'.
Perturabo was indeed twisted.
"Don't dwell on it," Calliphone's voice grew softer. "Maybe I'm wrong. I have no basis, it's just my guess."
A sense of release colored Perturabo's voice, "Maybe you're right, sister."
"He is twisted, but he admitted it. So, I won't deny it either."
Perturabo's simple declarative sentence carried too many complex emotions. It was a kind of stubborn frankness.
Calliphone blinked gently. Are you two really not father and son?
Since you're already like this, why did you need my father to be stuck in the middle?
Calliphone pondered without finding an answer, ultimately attributing it to twistedness.
.....
"You're here."
"I'm here."
"You're late."
"I won't make excuses."
The morning sun gilded Lochos palace with a pale gold. Caelan had requested the west tower of the palace as his residence. Compared to the palace itself, this request was negligible.
Perturabo was late. Behind him followed his sister with her jet-black hair.
Calliphone watched this pair, not father and son, yet more so than father and son, and blinked.
They were indeed twisted.
But... it wasn't so bad. They were rather adorable, actually.'The young woman lifted her skirt in an elegant curtsy, "Good morning, Mr. Caelan."
Caelan, "Calliphone, you've come at just the right time. Starting today, you will attend lessons with Perturabo."
Calliphone looked in surprise at her brother beside her, who was also frowning.
Perturabo asked, "Why?"
Caelan shrugged, "No reason. I feel like it."
Perturabo silently lowered his eyes, "Then do as you please."
Caelan asked, "Calliphone, do you have any concerns?"
Calliphone hesitated for a moment, her voice tentative, "Father may not approve of such an arrangement."
As a princess, she had never received education alongside men, not even with her brothers.
Her eldest brother, Herakon, was the firstborn son, brash and impulsive, and heir to the throne.
Her second brother, Andos, was melancholic and shy, fond of art.
Calliphone was a princess. She was destined to marry.
Perhaps a prince from another city-state, perhaps a high noble of Lochos.
Dammekos wouldn't neglect his daughter's education. Otherwise, others might think her ill-bred when she married, and he would lose face.
She had a good education, but it was limited to etiquette and breeding. It wasn't what she sought. She wanted the same education as her brothers.
But as a princess, she knew all too well how difficult it was to breach the walls built by complex customs.
Calliphone's eyes held restrained hope. She admired Caelan's wise discourse. His profound intelligence and Perturabo's extraordinary talent were like a light piercing the gilded cage of her world.
She yearned for that realm of wisdom but feared touching societal barriers.
Her father, Dammekos, was a staunch traditionalist.
The young woman's gaze briefly swept over Perturabo's tense profile, then quickly retracted.
She also worried her brother might resent her.
If she were Perturabo, she would probably also hate someone competing for her father's attention, even if the pair didn't acknowledge their relationship.
Caelan chuckled, "I'll convince Dammekos. The choice is yours."
Calliphone blinked her clear eyes, "Even if he doesn't give it to me?"
Caelan answered, "Then I'll give it to you."
Calliphone folded her hands before her skirt and bowed, "I am honored to study under you, Mentor."
Perturabo's voice held obvious impatience. "What are we learning today?"
"Let's review first. Why did I have you apologize yesterday?"
Perturabo lowered his head silently. Kneeling to Dammekos wasn't submission, but making amends for his earlier rudeness.
Though he still hated Caelan's infuriating teaching methods, he acknowledged the wisdom within them.
So why did Caelan have him kneel to Calliphone?
Caelan hadn't told him. He had long since seen Caelan's twisted nature. Perturabo had guessed Caelan would ask this. So he had sought out Calliphone.
Then, what was the answer?
"Between Dammekos and me, there is only mutual interest. He asks me to use my strength for his ambitions."
"My accepting his adoption is to gain a foothold. We each get what we need, owing nothing to each other."
"As for my brothers, Herakon is destined to inherit the throne. I have no interest in it. Andos is absorbed in art, with no connection to me."
"There are no grievances between us, no debts."
"But I owe Calliphone something. Perhaps because at some future moment, I will hurt her."
"Physical harm? Emotional wounds? Or both?"
"She is my sister. Such shallow emotional entanglements can't exist between us. And you wouldn't use such a vulgar reason to test me."
"She is so kind. I can't imagine any reason for me to hurt her. What truly constitutes harm?"
"Perhaps the most extreme possibility, I personally end her life. But why? We are siblings."
"Unless... an irreconcilable contradiction arises between us. One that can only be resolved by death."
"What could lead me to commit such a grave mistake?"
Perturabo's voice carried a cold self-reflection, "My character flaw. It will cause me to commit some irreversible atrocity in the future."
Caelan smiled and asked, "Which is?"
"Twistedness." Perturabo admitted reluctantly.
He didn't mind admitting his flaws, but he was reluctant to admit it so easily to Caelan.
But the after-effects of Caelan's apology yesterday still lingered. Perturabo couldn't bring himself to refuse.
Caelan looked at the young woman, "Calliphone? What do you think?"
Calliphone thought for a moment. Morning light cast tiny specks on her lowered lashes, "People change. If, in the future, I hurt my brother first, should I bear that fault now?"
"Are you accusing me of punishing Perturabo for something that hasn't happened?"
Calliphone winked playfully. That's what you said.
"I'm not punishing him. It's part of his education."
"Mentor, forgive my frankness, but I've never seen such a teaching method."
"Neither have I. It's tailored for Perturabo. I'm still learning."
Perturabo's brow formed a sharp crease, "Only me?"
"Only you are this twisted."
"Not as twisted as you!"
"Mentor, perhaps my brother isn't as twisted as you imagine?"
"He will be ten thousand times more twisted in the future. He's just young now. His twistedness hasn't fermented yet."
Perturabo questioned, "Then why didn't you just tell me?"
"I wasn't planning to tell you, but aren't I telling you now?"
"You could have told me earlier. I would have-"
"Humbly accepted? I don't think so. You're not that kind of person. Otherwise, I wouldn't need to correct you."
"You're too self-righteous!"
"You want to fight with me?"
Calliphone's slender fingers covered her rosy lips. She giggled, revealing two faint dimples.
Calliphone asked softly, "If you didn't intend to tell him from the beginning, why did you change your mind?"
She wasn't asking for herself, but for her twisted brother, posing the question he would never ask himself.
Caelan's gaze flickered between the siblings. Calliphone's eyes sparkled with sly intelligence, while Perturabo deliberately looked away, his ears perked up high.
"The original plan was to wait for the right moment, letting the answer emerge slowly over time. But his awareness when he apologized to you yesterday exceeded my expectations. I thought he would resist, but he didn't complain."
Calliphone glanced at her brother. He hadn't been without complaint; otherwise, why had he waited outside her door before dawn?
Caelan's gaze rested on Perturabo's tense face, "Your reasoning indeed surprised me. What is precious is self-knowledge."
"Knowing others is intelligence. Knowing oneself is wisdom."
"You are a born knower of others, but not yet a knower of oneself."
"But since the seed has already sprouted, rather than letting it grope in the darkness, it's better to push aside the soil and let it glimpse the sun."
Not all sprouted seeds grow strong. Some may never break through the soil to reach the light.
Even if they come infinitely close to the sun, they can only gradually fade in the dark, damp earth.
First they turn yellow, then wither, then rot.
The insects lurking deep in the soil will also take advantage of their weakest moment, gnawing away at the tender roots.
"The one who knows himself," Perturabo murmured. He would move towards this goal.
But certainly not because of Caelan's expectations, nor secretly delight in Caelan's praise.
He merely happened to agree with the correctness of this path. That was all!
....
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu