Li Mei's life had officially turned into a high-stakes balancing act on a blade thinner than her patience. Every step she took in the imperial court felt like walking barefoot across glass, smiling through the pain while the world watched for her to bleed.
One wrong move, and her name wouldn't just be whispered about—it'd be dragged through every corridor, every garden, every teacup conversation until she was buried under gossip and silk.
Or worse… she'd end up as the main course in Lady Yun's weekly feast of malice.
Morning sunlight slanted through the tall palace windows, turning the marble corridors into rivers of white gold. Her footsteps echoed softly, each one a heartbeat too loud. To anyone else, it was quiet. To Li Mei, it sounded like a funeral drum announcing her doom.
Why does this place always feel like a horror game dungeon at six in the morning?
Then, inevitably—
[Warning: High-risk social encounter detected. NPC: Lady Yun, allies present. Probability of intrigue: 87%.]
Li Mei froze mid-step. Her stomach plummeted so fast she almost heard the thud.
"Ugh… can we not do social combat before breakfast?" she hissed under her breath. "I haven't even had tea yet."
[Ding! Objective: Navigate Noble Intrigue. Recommended tactics: bluff, chaos, distraction.]
Her eyes darted left. Then right. No broom closets. No curtains. Not even a suspiciously large vase to hide behind. Just miles of polished marble and gilded lanterns that reflected her panicked face back at her.
"Cool," she whispered. "So… public humiliation it is."
And of course—because fate had a sense of humor—Lady Yun appeared at the far end of the corridor.
The noblewoman's silks trailed behind her like living shadows, her expression carved into something that looked elegant at first glance but felt sharp enough to cut glass. Three other courtiers flanked her, all smiling those thin, polite smiles that reeked of danger.
Li Mei's pulse went wild. Her hands went clammy. Her brain whispered, Boss encounter unlocked.
Lady Yun's gaze slid over her like a blade testing where to cut. "Ah… there you are, little maid," she purred, her tone a melody dipped in poison. "Tell me, would you care to explain why you continue to survive… while others falter?"
Li Mei's throat locked up. Oh, great. Murder by etiquette. Perfect way to go.
She scrambled for something smart to say. Something noble. Something not idiotic.
What came out was: "Um… survival training?"
Silence.
Her brain screamed, Wow. Perfect. Just brilliant. Queen of grace right here.
Lady Yun's lips twitched, her painted smile stretching thinner. Her allies tittered softly, the sound like knives hidden under silk.
"Survival?" Lady Yun murmured. "Your little… antics have made you a curiosity. A nuisance. But let me tell you something, little maid. The palace has no room for fools."
[Hint: Host's survival depends on exploiting chaos or unexpected opportunities.]
Li Mei's eye twitched. Exploiting chaos? What am I, the CEO of nonsense?
But she didn't move. Couldn't. The woman's gaze had pinned her in place, sharp and patient, like a spider deciding where to bite first. The nobles' eyes glittered with delight, ready to carry her downfall like gossip confetti.
Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her teeth. Okay, Mei. Think. Every RPG bluff check. Every time you lied about doing your chores. Every time you said "I'm fine" when you were clearly not. Think.
She straightened, exhaled once, and opened her mouth before her courage could run away.
"Actually," she said, voice trembling but steadying as she spoke, "I believe fools are the most dangerous."
The words hung in the air, light but sharp—like a thrown knife that might hit or might just embarrass her forever.
The corridor went dead silent. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Lady Yun's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous?"
Li Mei swallowed. Oh no. Oh no, what did I just say?
The words had barely left her lips when the entire corridor seemed to hold its breath.
"Fools are the most dangerous."
It echoed in the air like a challenge tossed into a storm.
The nobles blinked, uncertain if they were supposed to laugh or call for her execution. Lady Yun's expression shifted—no longer just amused, but alert, as if she'd just realized her prey might have teeth.
"Dangerous?" she repeated softly. "You speak as if you believe that."
Li Mei's pulse thundered. Her mouth moved before her brain could catch up.
"Yes! Dangerous because they're unpredictable. You never know what a fool will do. They might… make mistakes… or, um, genius moves."
A noble coughed, failing to hide a snort. Another smirked behind her sleeve.
Lady Yun's gaze was pure frost. "You speak nonsense."
"Maybe," Li Mei said, shrugging with a nervous grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "But nonsense keeps people guessing. Chaos favors the brave… and the stupid. Both are dangerous."
[Ding! Bluff Skill Activated. Effectiveness: +12%. Audience Confusion: Rising.]
Her heart skipped. Wait. That actually worked?!
Before Lady Yun could strike back, the atmosphere shifted—the kind of shift that made every servant instinctively straighten and every noble's breath catch.
Soft, deliberate footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Each one sounded like a quiet bell toll.
Li Mei didn't need to turn around to know. She felt it—the sudden weight of presence, like moonlight pressing down on her shoulders.
Empress Celestia.
When she finally appeared, she didn't stride. She glided. Her gown shimmered like liquid silver, each movement a slow ripple of light. Her gaze, calm and distant, swept over the scene—and landed on Li Mei.
"Interesting," Celestia murmured, voice soft enough to caress yet heavy enough to command. "Chaos… when harnessed correctly… can indeed be dangerous."
Her eyes gleamed, cold and knowing. "Continue."
Li Mei's soul left her body. Continue?! What am I supposed to do, give a PowerPoint on nonsense?!
"Uh—thank you?" she squeaked. "I mean… exactly! Harnessing chaos!"
Lady Yun's expression cracked just slightly, the tiniest twitch of disbelief. "Your Majesty, surely you don't mean to entertain the ramblings of a servant."
But before Celestia could answer, a lazy, amused drawl slid through the corridor like smoke.
"Entertain? I'd call it art."
Li Mei turned just in time to see him—Crown Prince Jianyu—leaning against a nearby pillar, his posture a masterclass in effortless arrogance. His robe collar was half-loosened, his expression unreadable except for the faint curl of a smirk.
Oh, perfect, Li Mei thought weakly. Both bosses in the same room. Love that for me.
[Ding! Emotional Stress Level: Critical. Recommend tactical deflection.]
Her brain screamed. Deflection? Deflection how?! Juggle? Sneeze? Fake faint?
But something reckless flickered in her chest. Maybe hunger. Maybe madness. Maybe caffeine deprivation. Either way, she was done being the cornered mouse.
She squared her shoulders, looking from Lady Yun to the Crown Prince to the Empress herself.
"Look," she said, and her voice came out steadier than she felt. "Everyone thinks I'm a fool. Fine. But here's the thing—fools survive where geniuses fail. You underestimate me, and that's your mistake."
One noble whispered, "She's insane."
Another muttered, "Or brave."
Lady Yun's jaw tightened. "Confidence does not equal skill."
"Maybe not," Li Mei said, smiling just a little. "But sometimes confidence is the skill. Watch."
Before logic could intervene, her body moved.
She snatched a nearby vase from its pedestal and flung it across the corridor. It crashed against the marble with a loud clang.
And she shouted, "Oh no! A rat!"
Chaos. Instant chaos.
One noble screamed. Another leapt backward, tripped over his own robe, and sent a tray of tea flying. The third clutched his skirt hem as if it might save him from an imaginary infestation.
Li Mei stood frozen amid the commotion, staring at what she had just done. Oh gods. That actually worked.
[Achievement Unlocked: Chaos Distractor. Passive Bonus: +5 Survival, +5 Influence.]
She forced a smile, stepping daintily through the aftermath. "Oops. My mistake," she said sweetly, skirts lifted as if strolling through a battlefield.
Lady Yun's face was a work of art—pure, livid disbelief. "This… is ridiculous!"
Celestia's gaze didn't waver. If anything, the faintest curve of her lips appeared—barely there, but unmistakable. "Ridiculous," she said quietly, "and brilliant."
Jianyu chuckled low in his throat. "Your chaos," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement, "is almost… artful. But don't think I won't challenge you next time."
Li Mei's smile faltered. Challenge?! What is this, a loyalty program?!
[Ding! Daily Log Updated: Survived First Multi-layered Court Scheme. XP +400. New Skill Unlocked: Charm by Chaos, Level 2.]
The nobles fled one by one, their dignity left behind in the puddle of spilled tea. The corridor fell quiet again, broken only by the faint drip-drip of porcelain shards rolling across marble.
Li Mei pressed her back to the wall, chest heaving, heart still sprinting a mile a minute. "I can't believe that worked," she whispered.
Her knees felt like jelly. Her pulse hadn't calmed. Her brain was still chanting what, what, WHAT on repeat.
The Empress stepped closer—her scent faintly floral, her voice cool and sharp as moonlight. "It did," Celestia said softly. "But remember this: each victory draws eyes. And eyes invite danger."
Li Mei nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Celestia's gaze lingered, thoughtful. Then, her tone softened—almost like a secret shared under breath. "Do not let the chaos rule you entirely, little maid. Harness it. Shape it. Become its master… or it will consume you."
Her words rippled through the corridor, sinking deep into Li Mei's spine.
Harness chaos, Li Mei repeated in her head. Lady, my chaos is like a caffeinated squirrel. There's no harnessing that.
"Yes," she said weakly. "Totally. I'll, uh, work on that."
Celestia's smile ghosted at the corner of her lips. "Perhaps one day, you'll teach others how."
And then she was gone—grace dissolving into silence, leaving only the faint echo of power behind her.
The silence stretched long after the Empress's departure.
It clung to the air—thick, trembling, like the hush after a lightning strike.
Li Mei didn't dare move. Her body felt like a string pulled too tight, her heart still hammering from the madness she'd somehow survived.
A quiet chuckle broke the stillness.
She turned—and there he was.
Crown Prince Jianyu hadn't left. He still leaned against the pillar with that lazy, sinfully amused look in his eyes, as though the entire scene had been orchestrated purely for his entertainment.
"It seems," he murmured, voice low and smooth, "chaos is your ally… and your weapon."
Li Mei groaned softly, dragging both hands down her face. "I didn't choose this weapon! It chose me!"
He laughed—really laughed this time—and it was unfairly warm. The sound slid through the air like smoke and silk, wrapping around her before she could shove it away.
"Then wield it well," he said, eyes dark and glinting. "Or be cut down by it."
Her heart did something very stupid—skipped, tripped, and full-on faceplanted.
Wait. Was that… flirting? Or a threat? Or some terrifying mix of both?
Why does it sound like he's threatening me romantically?
[Ding! Warning: Emotional entanglement critical. Probability of crush deepening: 87%.]
"Shut up," she hissed under her breath, smacking the invisible system notification away.
Jianyu straightened, every movement unhurried, confident in the way predators were. He passed her by, so close she could feel the faint brush of his sleeve and catch the trace of sandalwood and danger that clung to him.
"Survival," he said quietly, "is far more entertaining when it involves you."
And then he was gone—his footsteps fading into the echoing halls, leaving Li Mei standing there in a haze of disbelief, terror, and… something else she refused to name.
What just happened?
Her brain replayed everything in jagged bursts: the vase, the nobles' shrieks, the Empress's silver eyes, Jianyu's smirk.
Her entire life had become a fever dream narrated by a sarcastic god.
By the time she stumbled back to her quarters that night, exhaustion hit her like a collapsing roof. She kicked off her shoes, half-fell onto her narrow bed, and just lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
The System's cheerful glow filled her vision like an overeager roommate.
[Hint: You survived. XP gained: +500.]
[New Objective: Prepare for escalating court intrigue. Anticipate Lady Yun's next move.]
Li Mei groaned into her pillow. "Anticipate? She's probably already plotting my downfall in calligraphy!"
[Ding! Side Quest Activated: Train in Chaos Manipulation. Objective: Learn to turn accidents into advantage.]
"Fantastic," she muttered. "I'm basically getting certified in Disaster Management 101."
[Hint: Progress commendable. Survival rate increasing.]
"Yeah, well, my dignity's decreasing."
She rolled onto her back, letting out a long breath as moonlight spilled across the room. It pooled on the floor in thin silver ribbons, cool and fragile, like something that could shatter if she breathed too hard.
Out there, somewhere in the labyrinth of the palace, Lady Yun was sharpening her next scheme.
Somewhere else, Jianyu's eyes probably gleamed with that same dark amusement.
And far above them all, Empress Celestia was watching—patient, unreadable, like she already knew the ending to this story.
Li Mei curled up tighter, whispering into the quiet, "Survive first… noodles later."
The System pulsed once more before fading into the dark.
[Warning: Boss-level intrigue approaching. Prepare wisely.]
Her stomach twisted. Boss-level intrigue.
Of course. Because her life was apparently one long, increasingly dramatic boss rush.
"Great," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Maybe next time, I'll get a side quest for a nap."
Sleep didn't come easily. But when it did, it came heavy—filled with half-formed dreams of silver eyes, shattered porcelain, and a soft voice whispering, Harness the chaos.