Mi-Reu mentally focused on selecting Quick Recall. The System immediately processed her intent, and a confirmation prompt appeared:

  [300 Yang will be deducted for Quick Recall, do you wish to proceed?

  Y/N]

  She mentally selected Y.

  The world around her: the courtyard, the fading light, Gi-Reu seemed to dissolve into a shifting, gray static. A chaotic jumble of sensations flooded her mind simultaneously: the faint smell of dust on old wooden school desks, the slick, smooth feel of a textbook page under her hand, and the low, monotonous drone of a history teacher she hadn't consciously thought of in decades. It felt like a ghost was whispering complex facts directly into the fragile consciousness of the child.

  Fragments of text and half-remembered university lectures flashed before her inner mind’s eye with blinding speed:

  “The powerful Ming Dynasty eventually fell in the coming century, replaced by the Qing Dynasty, a Manchu-led regime based in the North. The Qing then went on to conquer and forcibly absorb many of the Ming's former tributary states, fundamentally altering the map of East Asia.”

  The static vanished as abruptly as it had come, leaving Mi-Reu staggering. She gasped, stumbling back a full step as if she had been physically struck by the knowledge.

  [Quick Recall: Successful. Data Snippet Retrieved.]

  “What? That’s impossible! They are the most powerful empire in the world! They control everything!” Gi-Reu exclaimed, his voice incredulous after hearing the single, shocking statement Mi-Reu had repeated from her Quick Recall.

  “That… that is precisely what I learned in history class in my past life,” Mi-Reu replied, her voice shaky.

  Mi-Reu knew, rationally, that the Ming Dynasty could not continue indefinitely; after all, modern China wouldn’t exist in its current form in her past world if the Ming had simply persisted unchanged. But the truly problematic issue lay in the specific statements she had recalled.

  “A new power rises… the Manchus. They create a new dynasty, the Qing.” She swallowed hard, the chilling implications of the textbook statement fully registering. “And when they succeed, they don't just ask for tribute. They subjugate. They force everyone to bow to them. Joseon… and any kingdom that stood with the Ming.”

  “So… as a tribute state tied to the Ming, that devastating statement might also be referring to us, Haebang?” Gi-Reu asked, his initial shock replaced by sharp, focused panic.

  “That… that might be the case, but I don’t know the exact year this happened and since I don’t know in which year we are in according to the modern calendar, so it might be far into the future” Mi-Reu tried to rationalize, grasping for hope.

  “Even so!” Gi-Reu stood up straight, facing his sister with rigid determination. “Are you fine with that? Are you willing to simply sit here and wait for them to come and destroy our kingdom, our family, and our people even if it’s far into the future?!”

  While Mi-Reu and Gi-Reu were engaged in their heated, secret argument over the fate of their nation, a palace messenger arrived, interrupting their intense discussion.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Your Royal Highnesses! You have been urgently summoned by His Majesty!”

  The twins turned, confused. “It’s already sundown and getting late for court sessions,” Mi-Reu noted.

  The messenger nodded respectfully. “Even so, the court is still in session, and His Majesty requested your presence immediately, Your Highnesses.”

  The twins exchanged a meaningful, silent look; their immediate, personal trouble with the King was the priority, even as a far greater threat might loom over their kingdom. They nodded to the messenger and followed him toward the main palace.

  The Royal Court was hushed, filled with the palpable, relieved silence of celebration. The session was still ongoing as the twins entered, following the messenger.

  “Ah, you are here,” Crown Prince Yi-Joon said, his face alight with satisfaction as he stood positioned in front of the elevated royal stage.

  “Yi-Jo—! Ahem, Your Highness,” both twins corrected themselves instantly in unison, having been sternly reminded earlier to show appropriate respect to the Crown Prince’s title while in session.

  Prince Yi-Joon smiled warmly at their minor slip-up, then continued his report to the King. “So, as I was reporting, Father, I followed your instructions precisely. I made certain to frame the selling proposal in a way that emphasized the difficulty and sacred nature of the tortoise, subtly implying that even for us, it will not be easy to find another specimen. This protects us in case the Ming Envoys demand it as tribute in the future. I also ensured that the Envoys enthusiastically followed through with the raffle.”

  He concluded with obvious pride. “The plan succeeded far better than we initially anticipated.”

  “Minister of Finance, how stands the treasury now?” King Jin-Ho asked, his attention immediately shifting to the elderly official.

  “We will now be fully able to proceed with the relief grain distribution, and still possess a healthy sum left over for reserves,” the old man replied, his face split into a wide, genuine smile, reflecting the relief of the entire court.

  “It worked out so beautifully, Mi-Reu. How did you even conceive of this peculiar idea?” King Jin-Ho asked, his gaze settling on his youngest daughter.

  Mi-Reu was momentarily stunned by the direct question. She had anticipated it, but had not prepared a plausible answer that didn't involve dimensional travel. I can’t very well say I know about 'raffle' from a future Earth’s lottery system... she thought frantically.

  “Ah…” Mi-Reu stammered, thinking hard.

  Just as her moment of hesitation became noticeable, Gi-Reu swiftly stepped in, tapping his foot, a clear sign he was engaging his quick intellect while panicking inside. “When we were playing Snake and Ladders yesterday, Father, we both argued fiercely over who would get the elephant piece,” he began, narrating the event of a simple, childish squabble.

  “Sister Seo-Yeon stopped us and asked everyone to give up their claims, rolling the dice for a mere chance to get the preferred piece,” Gi-Reu finished, his explanation sounding perfectly innocent. “She just used the same principle: when you feel like you have a fair chance of getting something, even if you don’t have the highest means to instantly buy it, you agree to the terms. And the only true winner in that whole dispute was Sister Seo-Yeon, who ended up holding the prize.”

  Mi-Reu instantly latched onto his brilliant defense. “That’s precisely right! Seeing that simple game made me remember a similar, foreign concept I once read about in one of the foreign books brought back to the palace library from the Ming Dynasty.” She smiled thankfully at Gi-Reu, who returned the gesture with a subtle wink.

  Queen Myeong-Hwa smiled, entirely mollified by the explanation. “That is quite clever, my children. It shows you are truly applying your knowledge to life’s problems rather than just memorizing old texts.” She complimented both twins warmly.

  They bowed in unison, accepting the praise. King Jin-Ho’s smile widened. “If that is so, then we shall immediately reward you two for the great aid you have given to the entire kingdom in this dire time.”

  He looked at them, his eyes full of paternal affection. “Tell me, my children, what is it that you wish for?”

  Both the twins’ faces lit up, and they were just about to speak their desires, when a sudden, authoritative voice cut in from the assembly.

  “I shall object, Your Majesty!”