The first five years after the merging… were far from peaceful.
What the Ancient Mother had called balance was nothing close to it.
It was war.
Inside a single fragile body, two souls lived—but they did not coexist quietly.
Lian Hua… the original owner… was gentle, soft, and easily frightened.
Lian Yue… the other… was not.
She was sharper. Stronger. Restless.
And she refused to remain hidden.
At first, the struggle was invisible.
It began as small things.
A sudden pause in movement.
A flicker in the eyes.
A sentence left unfinished… then continued in a different tone.
Moments where the body felt like it didn't belong to one mind.
But as the years passed, the struggle grew worse.
Because control… was not shared.
It was taken.
Whenever Lian Yue pushed forward, it felt like something tightening deep within the chest—like invisible hands gripping the soul itself.
Lian Hua would feel it first.
A pressure.
A dizziness.
Her thoughts slowing… fading… slipping away like mist.
And then—
Darkness.
Not sleep.
Not rest.
But being pushed aside.
Watching… without control.
And when Lian Yue took over—
Everything changed.
The posture straightened.
The fear disappeared.
The eyes grew colder… sharper… unfamiliar.
It was the same face.
But not the same girl.
The villagers noticed.
Children noticed more.
And children… were cruel.
Rumors spread like wildfire through Qingshui village.
"They said she killed her twin…"
"She's cursed…"
"She's possessed…"
Parents pulled their children away whenever Lian Hua passed.
Doors closed earlier.
Whispers followed her footsteps.
But the worst came after the daily traditional teachings.
When the adults were gone.
And the children remained.
They would gather in small groups, eyes filled with something darker than curiosity.
Fear.
Mixed with cruelty.
"Monster!" one would shout.
Another picked up a stone.
Then another.
Soon—
They all did.
Lian Hua would stand there, trembling.
Hands clenched tightly by her sides.
Eyes wide.
Tears threatening to fall but never quite escaping.
She never fought back.
Never shouted.
Never ran.
She simply endured.
Until one day…
Something snapped.
The children came like they always did.
Laughing.
Mocking.
Throwing.
A stone struck her shoulder.
Another grazed her forehead.
A third hit harder.
Lian Hua staggered slightly.
Her vision blurred.
Her breathing grew uneven.
And then—
It started.
That familiar pressure.
Deep inside her chest.
Stronger than ever before.
"No…" she whispered weakly.
But it was already happening.
Her thoughts began to slip.
The world around her faded.
And in its place—
Something else rose.
Enough.
The word did not come from her.
It echoed inside her.
Cold. Firm. Unyielding.
For the first time—
Lian Yue did not wait.
She forced her way forward.
The shift was instant.
Violent.
Like two forces colliding within a confined space.
Lian Hua felt herself being dragged backward—like falling into deep water, unable to fight, unable to breathe.
And then—
She was gone.
The body went still.
For just a second.
Then slowly—
It moved.
The trembling stopped.
The tears disappeared.
The head lifted.
And when her eyes opened again…
They were no longer gentle.
The next stone never landed.
Because this time—
She caught it.
Silence fell.
The children froze.
Confused.
Uncertain.
Afraid.
"Try that again," she said.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
One boy stepped forward, trying to laugh it off.
"You think you can—"
He didn't finish.
She moved faster than they expected.
Grabbing him.
Shoving him hard to the ground.
Panic broke out instantly.
Some tried to run.
Others stood frozen.
But Lian Yue did not stop.
Years of suppression… of silence… of watching—
Exploded all at once.
She pushed.
She struck.
She fought like someone who had been waiting too long for this moment.
And within seconds—
The group scattered.
Running.
Screaming.
Terrified.
Silence returned.
Lian Yue stood there, breathing steadily.
Unshaken.
Unapologetic.
"…Pathetic," she muttered.
And somewhere deep inside—
Lian Hua watched.
Not in control.
Not seen.
But present.
Afraid… of what she had just become.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
And before anyone realized it—
Years had passed.
The twins were fifteen.
And the struggle within that single body… had not lessened.
If anything—
It had grown sharper.
Inside their modest home, Xue Yan sat quietly, watching her daughter from across the room.
No.
Not just her daughter.
Both of them.
Her eyes were tired—burdened by years of pretending this was normal.
But tonight… she could not stay silent any longer.
"Lian Hua," she called softly, pulling a wooden bench closer and sitting down.
"Call your sister. I need to speak with her."
Lian Hua hesitated for a brief moment.
"…Yes, Mother."
Then—
It happened.
A subtle shift.
Barely noticeable to anyone else.
But to Xue Yan—
It was unmistakable.
The shoulders straightened slightly.
The softness in her gaze hardened.
The quiet presence… sharpened into something more assertive.
"Mother," she said.
But this time—
It was not Lian Hua.
It was Lian Yue.
Xue Yan exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
"Lian Yue," she began, her tone firm but not harsh,
"your sister owns this body."
A pause.
"I don't want to see you fighting so desperately for something that does not belong to you."
Lian Yue frowned slightly, crossing her arms.
"Mother," she said, almost immediately,
"Lian Hua has terrible taste in clothes."
Xue Yan blinked.
"She dresses like she wants the whole village to laugh at us."
Her voice carried frustration—but beneath it… something else.
"I have to take control, or she embarrasses us."
Xue Yan sighed softly.
"It is her body, Yue," she said gently.
"She can wear whatever she wants."
Then her voice softened further.
"You are only borrowing it."
Lian Yue looked away, clearly unsatisfied.
But she did not argue immediately.
"And why does that matter so much to you?" Xue Yan added quietly.
There was a pause.
A longer one this time.
Then Lian Yue spoke again—more serious now.
"What about the bullies?"
Silence filled the room.
"She lets them hurt her," Lian Yue continued, her voice lower.
"She just stands there… and takes it."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"Most times, I'm the one forced to fight back."
A pause.
"I can't just watch her suffer."
Xue Yan's expression shifted.
Not anger.
Not disappointment.
But pain.
"You're both growing," she said softly.
"And just like yesterday… time is moving."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"You only have six years left."
Six years until separation.
Six years until fate demanded its final balance.
"Everything will be alright soon," she whispered.
Then, unable to hold it in any longer—
Tears filled her eyes.
"I just… don't want to see you fight like this anymore."
Lian Yue froze.
For a moment—
She didn't look strong.
She didn't look defiant.
She looked… guilty.
"Mother…" she said softly.
Then her voice lowered.
"I'll change."
A pause.
"I promise."
And just like that—
She let go.
The shift happened again.
This time gentler.
Like stepping back instead of being forced out.
Lian Hua returned.
"Mother… don't cry," she said softly, moving closer and wrapping her arms around her.
"I'm not complaining…"
But before the moment could settle—
A voice echoed quietly within her mind.
Sharp. Irritated.
"Be quiet."
"You're the reason she's worried."
"If you didn't fight me, she wouldn't even know."
Lian Hua stiffened slightly.
But said nothing.
Because that voice—
Was Lian Yue.
And only she could hear it.