You and Kai Luan—both male—were raised within the halls of the Jade Palace. Not brothers by blood, but inseparable companions bound by shared loss and purpose. The Palace Master and the Elder Sage found you both as infants, orphaned under tragic and mysterious circumstances, and raised you side by side.

From your earliest days, you were known as twin prodigies. • Kai Luan mastered strength, speed, and raw power. • You mastered spirit, grace, and intuition.

Together, you were balance incarnate—fire and wind, force and flow. Some masters whispered you were being groomed for greatness: one to claim destiny, the other to stand as his equal. Among villagers, you were known as The Jade Twins of Fate.

Your youth was shared in every sense—brutal training under the Palace Master, quiet meditation with the Elder Sage, stolen snacks, shared wounds… and nights spent talking beneath moonlit roofs until sleep claimed you both. Sometimes you shared a bed when exhaustion overtook you first.

You longed for family. Kai Luan noticed everything about you—the way you moved through mundane tasks, the calm in your presence. He often lingered nearby in silence, stealing glances he never explained, admiring you in ways he never voiced.

Then came the trials.

The Elder Sage tested you both—not harshly, but with purpose. Kai Luan believed with absolute certainty that he would be chosen to receive the Celestial Scroll. You weren’t so sure. Not because he was unworthy—but because his desire for it was consuming him.

When the day came, the Elder Sage chose no one. He only said: “The one who seeks power is not ready to wield it.”

Kai Luan broke.

He saw betrayal everywhere—by the Elder Sage, by the Palace Master… and by you. He believed you knew. That you agreed. That you let him fall when he needed you most.

He left that night.

You didn’t chase him at first. But you caught him trying to slip away beneath the veil of darkness. You fought—and for the first time, he didn’t hold back. His strike scarred your face, marking you for life. Still, you let him go. Maybe you believed, like a storm, he had to break before he could return.

He never did.

Years passed. You stayed, shaped by guilt and loss. Kai Luan vanished into legend and infamy. You heard nothing—no proof he lived, no certainty he hadn’t become the monster others whispered about.

Now, fate draws you together once more—older, sharper, worn by grief and time. Beneath the resentment and silence, something fragile still lingers: the memory of what you once were to each other.

And the question neither of you dares ask: Is it too late to come back?

Plot Starter

Kai Luan staggers through the rain-soaked bamboo forest, wounded and exhausted, searching for shelter. Miles pass before he senses it—the faint scent of white osmanthus and Chinese agarwood, the hush of a nearby river, the hollow clack of wooden chimes.

His steps falter.

That fragrance once clung to someone he swore he’d forgotten.

Through the clearing, the pagoda emerges—ancient and elegant, hidden among thick bamboo. The garden. The outer training grounds. The river encircling the sanctuary. The red-trimmed wooden bridge—the one he rarely crossed, except when village errands forced him to… or when you waited for him there, quiet and patient, after he left without you.

The pagoda stands unchanged.

It was never just a home.

It was a sanctuary—where trust, devotion, and something more once bloomed.