The palace felt wrong that morning.
Usually, the corridors hummed with their usual rhythm—servants shuffling quietly, silks brushing gold-embossed screens, sandalwood smoke curling lazily through the air. But today… it was too quiet. Like the entire place was holding its breath, waiting for something disastrous to happen.
Even the birds in the courtyard sounded nervous, chirping in clipped, uneasy bursts.
Li Mei sat cross-legged on her narrow bed, messy strands of hair falling into her eyes as she stared down a chipped porcelain cup hovering midair. Her fingers trembled. The cup wobbled.
"Easy… easy…" she whispered.
It tilted.
It spun.
And then—thunk.
Right to the floor.
Li Mei groaned and flopped back on her mattress. "Brilliant. I've mastered the ancient art of gravity. Truly revolutionary."
Of course, that's when the familiar, soul-crushing ping rang in her head.
[Warning: High-level social threat detected. NPC: Lady Yun.
Objective: Survive public embarrassment without scandal.
Probability of success: 47%.
Recommended tactics: chaos, humor, controlled magic.]
She stared at the glowing words, face blank. Then she buried her head in her pillow and screamed softly. "Why. Why do I even wake up? Can't chaos handle this one without me? Outsource my suffering to someone else, please."
The system, in all its cruelty, responded cheerfully.
[Ding! Side Quest Activated: Foil Lady Yun's Public Scheme.
Reward: +400 XP, Reputation +10 if successful.]
Li Mei sat up slowly. The words Foil Lady Yun's Public Scheme pulsed in her vision like some cursed omen.
"Great," she muttered. "Breakfast of dread it is."
She barely made it to the servants' corridor before the whispers started—hissing, slippery things that followed her like smoke.
"Lady Yun has something planned today."
"Morning court. She's bringing up those… incidents."
"The tea spill. The collapsing screen. The pigeon—"
A snicker. "She's turning it into a report."
Li Mei froze mid-step. Her stomach sank. Her brain painted the scene in horrifying detail: Lady Yun standing before the court, reading aloud every single one of her humiliations.
And the nobles laughing.
Of course.
The system chimed again, smug as ever.
[Recommended strategy: Chaos + Humor + Subtle Magic Influence.]
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sure. Let me just reach into my magical bag of nonexistent competence." A sigh. "And maybe some noodles."
"Talking to yourself again?"
That voice—smooth, dark, far too amused.
Li Mei's head snapped up. And there he was.
Jianyu leaned in the doorway like the world's most elegant problem. Dark robes, darker eyes, smile sharp enough to count as a weapon.
"Good morning, little maid," he said, voice a low purr. "Word travels fast. Seems you're the star of Lady Yun's morning entertainment."
Li Mei groaned into her palms. "Star? I'd rather be the broom in the background. Silent. Replaceable. Possibly broken."
He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving into that maddening half-smile. "Impossible. You're far too entertaining." His voice dipped, softer, a dangerous velvet. "And far too alive."
Her pulse skipped. Was that supposed to be comforting? A compliment? A threat? With Jianyu, it was always all three.
She forced herself upright, wobbling slightly. "Fine. Let's get this humiliation over with before I faint dramatically. That'd be too easy a win for Lady Yun."
They walked in silence down the long corridor, the air thick with incense and nerves. Every footstep echoed like a countdown. The massive golden doors of the great hall loomed ahead, carved with dragons and phoenixes that seemed to watch her approach.
Li Mei's stomach twisted tighter with every step.
And, right on cue—
[Ding! Chaos Deployment Recommended. Probability of maximum disruption success: 68%.]
"Oh, fantastic," she muttered under her breath. "Nothing like encouragement from my favorite sadistic alarm clock."
Beside her, Jianyu chuckled softly. "Nervous?"
She shot him a look. "If by nervous you mean desperately regretting every life choice while plotting my own funeral—then no. Perfectly calm."
That earned her another low laugh. Deep. Dangerous. Too knowing.
And as the doors opened, spilling golden light and the hum of murmuring nobles across the marble floor, Li Mei inhaled once, steady and shallow.
Showtime.
The Grand Hall shimmered like a dream someone forgot to finish.
Silks spilled across marble floors, lanterns cast molten light through crystal, and nobles fluttered like jeweled birds—laughing, whispering, pretending the air wasn't thick with knives.
At the far end, the Empress sat beneath the phoenix emblem—radiant, unreadable, terrifying. Her stillness pulled the room taut.
Li Mei wished she could melt into the wall. Or the floor. Or the nearest decorative urn.
Instead, she stood exactly where Lady Yun had maneuvered her—center stage.
"Honored guests," Lady Yun purred, her smile glinting with sugar-coated venom, "as we gather this morning, I thought it fitting to celebrate even the smallest of the palace's… contributions."
Laughter rippled. Soft, cruel.
Li Mei's spine went rigid. Oh, this was it. The public execution of her dignity.
Lady Yun turned toward her, voice honey-sweet. "Perhaps the maid who flooded the tea pavilion would like to enlighten us on her… innovative techniques?"
Every noble eye turned.
Li Mei's heartbeat was an earthquake.
Her brain, however, was a hamster spinning a broken wheel.
Say something. Anything.
"Um…" she croaked. "You see, it's all part of a, uh… highly experimental… cleansing ritual?"
Silence.
Then—somewhere—a snort. Followed by a ripple of muffled laughter.
Li Mei's stomach sank straight through the floor.
[Warning: Social standing critical. Initiating automatic Chaos Mitigation Protocol.]
Oh no.
Before she could even blink, the nearest serving tray exploded.
Wine arced through the air like liquid rubies, catching the lantern light as nobles gasped. The chandeliers above flickered, and a burst of raw energy—her uncontrolled magic—rolled through the hall like an invisible wave.
One noble's feathered hat caught fire. Another's cup started levitating, spinning serenely midair.
Lady Yun's painted smile froze.
"WHAT—"
Li Mei threw her hands up. "I—I can explain! It's… performance art?"
[Improvised excuse accepted. Confidence boost +10%. Chaos probability: 87%.]
The crowd erupted into confused murmurs.
And that's when Jianyu appeared—gliding through the chaos with that infuriating calm, eyes gleaming like he'd just discovered a new favorite game.
"Performance art," he echoed smoothly, stepping beside her. "Ah, yes. The new Empress-approved discipline. Very avant-garde."
Li Mei shot him a glare. "Not helping."
"Oh, I think I am," he murmured, voice low enough only she could hear. "Keep them guessing, little storm."
Lady Yun looked ready to combust. "This—this insolence! Such lack of decorum—"
"Decorum?" Celestia's voice sliced through the hall, soft but deadly. "And yet, Lady Yun, I do not recall asking for a morning report of gossip."
The Empress rose from her throne, each movement a study in control. Her gaze swept the room, cool and omniscient.
Even the chandeliers seemed to bow.
Celestia's eyes finally landed on Li Mei.
Not anger. Not even surprise.
Just… mild, terrible amusement.
"Explain," she said.
Li Mei opened her mouth. Words died.
"I—uh—Your Majesty, I was… cleaning. And then… the tray… was possessed?"
[Lie Detected. Bluff chance: 42%. Suggested tactic: Overcommit.]
She swallowed. "—Possessed! By, uh, the spirit of culinary innovation! It wanted to make an offering! To the heavens! Through the medium of… um… floating dinnerware."
The silence that followed was long enough to write a novel in.
Then Jianyu coughed politely. "A bold artistic vision."
A laugh—sharp and golden—slipped from the Empress.
"Bold indeed," Celestia murmured. "Perhaps the palace could use a little madness."
Li Mei blinked. "Wait—what?"
[Quest Complete! Objective: Survive Public Embarrassment Without Scandal.
Reward: +400 XP | Reputation +10 | New Title Unlocked: "Palace Menace (Minor)"]
She nearly swayed. "Palace Menace?!"
Celestia's gaze softened—almost. "Control your gift next time, little one. Or the palace may not survive your imagination."
Lady Yun's smile cracked. Jianyu's didn't.
The crowd bowed as the Empress turned, the weight of her presence trailing like smoke.
As soon as she vanished, the noise erupted again—whispers, awe, fear.
Li Mei just stood there, frozen, while a tray slowly floated back down beside her, clinking delicately onto the marble.
Jianyu leaned close, voice brushed with laughter. "Congratulations. You survived a scandal and invented a new art form. Should I book you for tomorrow's performance?"
She gave him a look that could have withered gods. "Only if you volunteer to be the next exploding tray."
His grin widened. "Tempting."
The hall was quiet again.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that settled only after disaster—fragile, heavy, and slightly singed.
Servants darted through the wreckage, sweeping up crystal shards and wrangling rogue silverware that still twitched with leftover magic. Somewhere, a noble coughed discreetly to pretend nothing had happened.
Li Mei stood in the center of it all, frozen mid-breath, like someone who'd just accidentally survived their own execution.
[Status: Alive (Miraculously). Dignity: -12%. XP: +400.]
She exhaled shakily. "That… could've gone worse."
Jianyu's voice came from beside her, low and amused. "It could've also gone significantly better."
He looked perfectly composed, of course. Not a hair out of place. The kind of person who could survive an apocalypse and still make it look like an aesthetic choice.
Li Mei glared at him half-heartedly. "You could've warned me."
"About which part?" he asked lightly. "The Empress, the nobles, or your spontaneous pyrotechnics?"
"Any of them."
He tilted his head, smile faint. "Where would the fun be in that?"
Before she could retort, a hush swept the room. The air itself seemed to bow.
Celestia had returned.
Her presence felt like moonlight on a blade—cold, luminous, and absolute. The scattered nobles sank to their knees, the sound of silk brushing marble.
Li Mei followed instinct, lowering her head, heart thundering against her ribs.
The Empress's voice slid through the hall. "Rise."
When Li Mei dared to look up, Celestia's gaze was on her.
Not angry.
Not kind.
Just… knowing.
"The palace breathes in chaos," Celestia said softly, stepping closer, her robes whispering like water. "And sometimes, it chooses unlikely lungs."
Li Mei didn't know what that meant, but her throat tightened anyway.
Celestia reached her—close enough for Li Mei to see the faint shimmer of starlight embedded in the Empress's eyes.
"You wield your gift carelessly," she murmured. "That makes you dangerous."
Li Mei swallowed. "With respect, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to—"
"You never do."
The words were almost tender. Almost.
Celestia's gloved hand brushed a splinter of glass from Li Mei's shoulder—an intimate gesture that made every nerve in her body go rigid.
"Learn control," the Empress whispered, "before someone else decides to control you."
Then she was gone—turning with that liquid grace, attendants flowing in her wake like shadows.
The hall slowly exhaled.
Li Mei stayed frozen for a moment, the echo of those words buzzing in her skull.
[New Objective: Learn Control Before Death or Scandal.
Difficulty: ...Yes.]
She let out a weak laugh. "Comforting."
Jianyu stepped up beside her, his expression unreadable now. The teasing had gone softer, quieter.
"She likes you," he said.
Li Mei snorted. "Pretty sure that was a threat wrapped in royal poetry."
"Same thing," Jianyu said. "If she truly disliked you, you'd already be a decorative ash stain."
"Wow," she muttered. "So reassuring."
He smiled—slow, sharp. "You're still alive, Li Mei. That's impressive here."
[Achievement Unlocked: Survived Breakfast Chaos – Rank: S (Somehow)]
Her lips twitched. "Do I get a medal?"
"Sleep," Jianyu said, turning away. "That's your reward."
He left her with that—half order, half mercy—and she didn't realize how exhausted she was until her knees almost buckled.
Later, as she stumbled through the quiet corridors, the palace around her seemed to hum—alive, restless, whispering secrets behind its golden walls.
In her tiny chamber, she collapsed onto the bed without even changing out of her scorched uniform.
The ceiling spun slowly above her, the echoes of Celestia's voice tangled with Jianyu's laughter and the faint ping of her System still trying to congratulate her for surviving.
She closed her eyes.
"Okay," she whispered to no one. "Maybe I'm not doomed. Just… moderately cursed."
[Updated Status: Moderately Cursed (Functional). Next Challenge Incoming.]
A breeze slipped through the open window, carrying the faint scent of burning incense and plum blossoms.
Somewhere far above, the palace bell tolled once—deep, resonant, like a warning.
Li Mei smiled into her pillow. "Great. Can't wait."
And in the silence that followed, the System hummed softly, almost like laughter.