Li Mei had never once, in all her twenty-one years of painfully average existence, imagined that her grand exit from the world would come courtesy of a bowl of instant noodles.
Exams? Maybe.
Her tragic love life? Absolutely.
But instant noodles? Out of everything in the universe?
She lay sprawled across her dorm bed like a fallen warrior, hair sticking out in tangled rebellion. Her laptop balanced precariously on her legs, its pale glow painting her face as she half-watched a palace drama she'd already binged—twice.
On-screen, the emperor was in peak dramatic form, berating a trembling concubine for the heinous crime of spilling tea on his robes.
Li Mei groaned. "Oh, come on! If I were in that palace, I'd outlive everyone with just one brain cell and a touch of sarcasm. These people die because they don't know how to dodge a teacup!"
With exaggerated flair, she slurped another mouthful of spicy ramen, performing for her invisible audience like she was on a cooking show no one asked for.
And then—
The noodle fought back.
It went rogue.
Her throat seized.
Her eyes widened.
The slurp turned into a strangled choke.
"W-wait—no, no, no, no, no!" she gasped, pounding her chest with growing panic. Her laptop slid off her knees with a loud thud, clattering onto the floor.
On the screen, the emperor continued his scolding, blissfully unaware that one of his modern-day viewers was currently losing a duel with noodles.
Li Mei flailed for her water bottle, her fingers brushing against it—but it tipped over, spilling uselessly onto the sheets.
"Help—" she croaked, but the word never finished.
Her chest burned. Her vision blurred.
The edges of the room darkened.
The last thing she saw was a pop-up ad blinking brightly on her laptop screen.
It was for the same drama she'd been watching: Palace of Eternal Schemes: Can You Survive?
Her final thought, just before the darkness swallowed her whole, was as bitter as it was ironic.
"Oh, irony, you cruel witch."
Silence.
Then—nothing.
(System Activation: Death by Stupidity confirmed. Cause of death: Instant noodles.)
Li Mei's lungs snapped back to life.
She jerked upright with a loud, desperate gasp, clutching her throat as air—sweet, glorious air—rushed in.
Her chest heaved. Her heart thundered.
"I— I'm alive?"
But something was off.
This wasn't her dorm.
The smell hit first—not the usual blend of ramen spice, dust, and student despair, but sandalwood. Soft. Faintly floral. Old, like history itself.
Her eyes darted around.
Gone were the cracked white walls of her room.
In their place stood delicate paper screens, hand-painted with lotus blossoms. The mattress under her had vanished—she sat on a woven mat that rustled when she moved.
Her fingers trembled as she looked down.
Plain brown robes. Coarse fabric. Long sleeves. Definitely not her oversized cat-print T-shirt.
"…Eh?"
Li Mei slapped her own cheek. Smack.
Pain bloomed instantly.
Nope. Not a dream.
(Welcome, Player: Li Mei. Current body: Palace Maid Meiyun.)
(Tutorial Quest: Survive the next 24 hours.)
(Reward: You get to keep your head.)
(Penalty: …Do you really want to know?)
Her jaw dropped. "EXCUSE ME—WHAT DO YOU MEAN PENALTY?? HELLO??"
A piercing shriek cut through her panic.
"Meiyun! Why are you screaming? Do you want the steward to whip us all?!"
Li Mei froze.
A round-faced girl with wide, terrified eyes appeared at her side, gripping her sleeve like it was a lifeline.
"Bao'er," the girl hissed, "you're acting crazy again!"
Again?!
Li Mei's mind short-circuited. What do you mean again?! Do I have a reputation here already?!
Before she could demand answers, footsteps thundered outside—sharp, synchronized, terrifyingly official.
Men in dark robes strode past the open doorway, their swords glinting like warning signs.
Li Mei's breath caught.
System.
Body.
Palace maid.
Guards.
Her brain connected the dots, one horrifying realization at a time.
"Oh my god," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm in a historical drama."
(Main Quest: Don't get executed before nightfall.)
(Hint: Try not to insult royalty. Or anyone. Or breathe too loudly.)
Li Mei's expression crumpled. "That's not a hint! That's common sense!"
(Correction: Common sense you historically lack.)
She glared into the void. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME, NOT ROAST ME!"
Bao'er blinked, startled. "Who are you talking to?"
Li Mei hesitated. "…The gods."
Bao'er's expression softened with grim acceptance. "That makes sense. You always were a little strange."
Li Mei stared at her. Oh great. So even in this world, I'm the weird one.
The rest of the day? Pure, undiluted chaos.
From the moment she stepped into the palace courtyard, survival felt less like a "tutorial" and more like a hellish obstacle course designed by a sadistic developer.
She was ordered to deliver tea to a concubine. Her hands shook so violently the tray rattled like it was possessed.
She was scolded for bowing too shallowly. Then scolded again for bowing too deeply.
Apparently, even politeness had a death setting here.
She forgot half the titles she was supposed to use, and in one particularly mortifying moment of panic, nearly called a noble lady "Auntie."
Each mistake came with a mocking chime only she could hear.
(Warning: Death Flag triggered. Survival -5%.)
(Quest Update: Keep your tongue inside your mouth.)
By the time the sun began to sink behind the palace walls, Li Mei's robes clung to her back with sweat. Her legs ached, her head pounded, and she was about three mistakes away from faking her own death just to escape this nightmare.
Her stomach growled pitifully, but even hunger was nothing compared to the gnawing terror of every glance, every whisper, every suspiciously judgmental eyebrow.
Every corridor felt like it hid executioners behind the curtains.
If this was just the "tutorial," she didn't want to see level one.
"Move aside!"
The shout sliced through the courtyard like a blade.
Every servant froze. Then, as if the air itself commanded obedience, they dropped to their knees. Heads bowed. Hands clasped. Silence rippled outward like a wave.
Li Mei blinked.
Everyone had moved—
Except her.
She was still standing right in the middle of the path, clutching an empty tray and looking like a deer about to get flattened by a royal carriage.
Her heart stuttered. "Oh no. Oh no no no—"
The crowd parted, revealing a figure bathed in sunlight.
A man. Tall. Straight-backed. Wrapped in golden robes that shimmered with embroidered dragons. His steps were measured, unhurried, but every one of them carried weight—authority that pressed against her chest until she could barely breathe.
Guards flanked him, their armor gleaming, eyes fixed forward with soldierly precision.
And when Li Mei's gaze, against her own better judgment, drifted upward—
Oh.
Oh wow.
His jawline could have cut glass. His eyes, cold and sharp, burned with a restrained fire that made her stomach twist in dread. He wasn't just handsome; he was terrifying in that untouchable, "one wrong word and you're dead" kind of way.
She didn't need a name tag to know who he was.
The Crown Prince.
Her system's voice chimed cheerfully in her head, like it was announcing a cute puppy rather than her imminent doom.
(Special Event Triggered: First Encounter with Crown Prince Jianyu.)
(Optional Quest: Make him notice you.)
(Reward: +10 favorability, +1 survival chance.)
(Failure: Execution probability rises by 30%.)
Li Mei's stomach dropped so fast it could've burrowed into the ground.
Make him notice me?
Are you insane?! I don't want him to notice me! I want him to NOT NOTICE ME EVER AGAIN IN MY ENTIRE AFTERLIFE!
Her pulse hammered against her throat.
Just breathe. Just bow. Just—
Her sandal caught on a loose stone.
The tray jerked in her trembling hands.
A chorus of horrified gasps erupted around her as porcelain cups flew up like startled birds. Hot tea arced through the air in a golden stream of doom—
—and landed right at the Crown Prince's feet.
The world stopped.
No one moved. No one even breathed.
The servants around her dropped even lower, trembling so hard the mats rustled. Somewhere, someone whimpered.
Li Mei just stood there, frozen, staring at the puddle of tea spreading like evidence of her own murder.
The Crown Prince's gaze snapped to her.
Sharp. Lethal.
Like an arrow loosed straight at her soul.
Her body refused to move. Her lungs forgot how to function.
She could already feel it—the phantom edge of an executioner's blade resting against her neck.
He took one step forward, and her mind screamed: Say something, do something, grovel, faint, disappear—anything!
Instead, all that came out was a strangled whisper.
"…Oh, noodles."