Morning came to the palace wrapped in a silence that didn't feel peaceful.
It felt heavy. Like the marble walls were holding their breath, whispering secrets through their cracks.
Golden light spilled through the paper screens, painting soft amber patterns across the polished floor. It should've been warm. Comforting. Instead, Li Mei felt that familiar buzz beneath her skin — a faint, electric hum that meant something was coming.
She groaned, flopping upright in bed like someone trying to resurrect from the dead. Every muscle ached. Her shoulders, her back, even her fingers. The memory of spinning tables, floating napkins, and Lady Yun's very public death-glare replayed in slow, torturous detail.
"Please," she muttered, dragging a pillow over her face, "just one morning without catastrophic drama. Is that too much to ask?"
Apparently, yes.
Because her System chose that exact moment to chirp to life.
(Notification: Secret magical trial detected. NPC: Celestia. Objective: Participate and excel in covert magical evaluation. Probability of success: 61%. Recommended tactics: subtle magic, social finesse, chaos management.)
Li Mei froze.
Then very slowly, she lowered the pillow, stared at the glowing words, and let out the most heartfelt groan known to humankind.
"Secret. Magical. Trial. Sixty-one percent success rate?" She pressed her palms to her face, muffling a strangled laugh. "Why does every day here sound like an HR nightmare waiting to happen?"
"Because," came a smooth, amused voice from the doorway, "you make such entertaining faces when you complain."
Li Mei peeked through her fingers.
Of course. Jianyu.
He leaned casually against the frame, dark robes loose, eyes glinting with that insufferable mix of humor and danger. The kind of man who looked like he never woke up tired, never spilled tea on himself, and never lost a single argument.
"Good morning, little maid," he drawled, the words laced with mock warmth. "Ready to compete?"
"Compete?" she echoed weakly, pushing messy hair from her face. "In what, exactly? Magical survival? Existential dread? Because I think I'm already winning the latter."
Her System chimed again, far too pleased with itself.
(Ding! Side Quest Activated: Covert Magical Trial. Objective: Impress Celestia without exposing anomalies to public. Reward: +500 XP, Magical Skill Upgrade.)
Li Mei just stared. Then sighed the sigh of a woman who had given up on logic.
"Perfect. Another side quest. And I didn't even get breakfast."
Jianyu's mouth curved, soft laughter dancing in his tone. "Breakfast," he said solemnly, "is the foundation of power."
He tilted his head slightly, dark hair falling over his brow, eyes glinting with teasing sharpness. "Though, I admit, watching you improvise without it is far more… entertaining."
She squinted at him, equal parts suspicion and despair. "Do you practice being irritating, or is it natural talent?"
Before Jianyu could reply, the air in the room shifted — subtly at first, then all at once.
A shimmer rippled through the morning light, bending it like water. The temperature dropped, the faint scent of jasmine curling in with something colder, sharper — moonlight made tangible.
And then Celestia appeared.
No footsteps. No sound. Just presence.
Silver radiance spilled across the corridor as she stepped forward, her long hair cascading like light itself, her eyes unblinking and ancient. The world seemed to hush around her, as though even the air refused to move without her permission.
Her voice was soft, but it carried — clear as glass, cutting straight through Li Mei's breathless silence.
"This trial is not merely for assessment," she said, each word measured, deliberate. "It is to gauge adaptability, creativity, and control. Little maid, your progress will be tested."
Li Mei swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. "Aha. Adaptability. Creativity. Control." She nodded weakly. "Those are… things. I definitely have… one of them."
Celestia's lips curved — not in kindness, but intrigue.
The kind that made Li Mei's stomach twist.
The courtyard looked almost normal.
That was the first sign something was terribly wrong.
Polished stone glimmered beneath the soft morning sun, a few wooden training dummies stood at the far end, and decorative scrolls floated lazily in the air — far too lazily. A fan drifted near the center, twirling like a bored bird. Even the breeze smelled too perfect — jasmine laced with something old and sharp, like forgotten incense.
Li Mei eyed it all suspiciously.
When everything looks peaceful, you're already doomed.
She let out a small, nervous laugh. "Looks harmless enough. Which means I'm definitely about to die."
From somewhere near the colonnade, a familiar figure lurked — Lady Yun, her silks whispering venom. Her painted smile didn't reach her eyes as she watched, fan half-raised like a blade disguised as beauty.
"Finally," Lady Yun murmured under her breath, voice dripping with sweet poison. "A chance to expose the maid publicly. Let her drown in her own incompetence, and the court will see her for what she is."
Her fan snapped open with a delicate flick.
Li Mei's System pulsed like an impatient heartbeat.
(Warning: Lady Yun interference imminent. Recommended action: strategic chaos deployment, humor, subtle magic.)
She inhaled slowly, trying to pretend her lungs weren't shaking. The air felt charged, too still, like the sky itself was waiting.
"Alright," she whispered to herself, "one maid, one trial, one very smug noblewoman waiting for me to trip. How bad could it possibly—"
"Talking to yourself again?" Jianyu's voice slid in from behind her, smooth as silk and twice as irritating.
Li Mei jumped, scowling over her shoulder. "First of all, yes. Second of all, this is what stress looks like."
"Ah." He smiled lazily, folding his arms. "Then stress suits you. Almost… heroically."
She groaned. "You really need new hobbies."
Before he could retort, Celestia lifted a pale hand, and the world shifted.
The scrolls in the air snapped open all at once — hundreds of pages flapping without wind, glowing faintly with magic. The fan at the center began to spin faster and faster, its edges glinting like blades. Shadows lengthened across the stone floor, bending and twisting into things — serpents, birds, faces that weren't her own.
Li Mei's heart slammed against her ribs. Oh, good. Reality's unraveling. Again.
Her System chimed in cheerfully, as if it wasn't witnessing her slow descent into madness.
(Trial progression: 5%. Illusions increasing. Recommended: stabilize chaos with counter-chaos.)
"Stabilize chaos with chaos?" she hissed. "That's not strategy, that's just... my life!"
Jianyu tilted his head, watching her panic with far too much amusement. "Are you arguing with the voices again?"
"Better than arguing with you," she muttered, ducking as a scroll swooped at her face.
The air thickened. Magic pressed against her skin — shimmering, twisting. The scrolls multiplied, snapping into shapes that should not have existed: one stretched into a sword, another into a bird made of paper knives. They dove, slicing the air.
Li Mei yelped and flung herself sideways. "Adaptability! Creativity! Control! I'm adapting, Celestia, I swear!"
Her fingers tingled with heat — raw, unrefined magic. She didn't have elegance. Or precision.
But she had instinct.
And instinct whispered: if they want to swarm… then swarm bigger.
"Alright," she muttered, half-panicked, half-determined, "let's see what happens when chaos meets chaos."
She thrust her hands forward.
A burst of magic flared — uneven, sputtering — and then pop!
A flock of glowing, slightly translucent ducks exploded into the courtyard.
For one perfect second, everything froze. Even Celestia blinked.
The ducks quacked in outrage, flapping wildly. One waddled directly into a conjured serpent and bit its tail with righteous fury. The illusion unraveled in a shimmer of gold dust.
Li Mei stared. "Wait. That— actually worked?"
Jianyu's laughter rolled out, low and dangerous, like silk over steel. "Remarkable. Only you would weaponize ducks."
The flock went berserk, charging into the illusions, colliding with paper birds and melting them into harmless streams of color. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't dignified. But it was working.
Celestia's silver gaze sharpened, faint amusement curling at the edge of her lips. "Unexpected. Crude. Effective."
From the shadows, Lady Yun's expression soured. Her fan snapped shut, then open again — her voice cutting sharp. "Cheap tricks. I'll show them what real power looks like."
She flicked her wrist. Unseen threads of her own magic snaked across the courtyard, weaving into Celestia's illusions. The fan in the air began to spin faster — too fast — turning into a shrieking storm. The paper blades multiplied, the shadows darkened, and the entire space trembled like it might break apart.
Li Mei stumbled backward as the pressure slammed into her chest. The air thickened until it felt like she was breathing lightning.
Her System screamed.
(Alert! External interference detected. Risk of injury: High. Recommended action: escalate chaos.)
"Escalate chaos? Are you serious?!" she shouted, voice cracking.
No choice.
Li Mei gritted her teeth and pulled every scrap of power she could muster into her shaking hands. Her breath came short and fast. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
If ducks could save her once…
She threw her hands outward.
This time, the magic burst brighter — wild, almost joyous.
A storm of glowing teapots erupted into existence.
Dozens of them. Spinning, floating, clanging like an orchestra of bad decisions. They poured steaming liquid into the air, splashing across the courtyard and turning to mist. The fan hit one of the kettles, and with a shriek of sparks, the spell broke apart in a cloud of scalding steam.
The courtyard became a battlefield of quacking, clanging, hissing chaos.
Li Mei stood in the middle of it, panting, hair plastered to her forehead, eyes wide — and then she laughed. Breathless. Unbelieving.
"Controlled chaos," she gasped. "Totally intentional. Definitely part of the plan."
Through the haze, Jianyu's eyes caught the light — sharp and glinting with something that looked far too close to admiration.
"You thrive in madness, little maid," he said softly.
Her face heated instantly. "I— shut up. Not helping!"
The moment Celestia raised her hand, the world stilled.
The whirling fan froze midair.
The teapots hung suspended like tiny moons.
Even the steam paused — soft ribbons of silver drifting in place.
Then, with a sound like glass breaking underwater, the illusions shattered.
Paper birds, serpents, and phantom blades dissolved into dust. The ducks vanished in puffs of golden light. The teapots winked out one by one until only the faint scent of scorched jasmine and tea hung in the air.
Silence settled over the courtyard — deep, fragile, breathing.
Li Mei stood trembling in the middle of it all, sweat slicking her temples, her lungs burning. Her magic sputtered and died against her fingertips. For one long second, she thought she might actually keel over.
Celestia's eyes — molten silver and frighteningly still — turned toward her.
"Unorthodox," the Empress murmured, voice soft but cutting through the stillness like a blade. "Chaotic. But adaptable. Creative. And, in its own way… controlled."
Li Mei blinked up at her, chest heaving. "So… that's a good thing?"
The faintest shimmer of amusement ghosted across Celestia's expression — there, and gone.
From the shadows, a sound like silk tearing broke the quiet. Lady Yun stood stiffly, her painted smile cracking at the edges. Her fan snapped shut with a sharp crack.
"Cheap tricks," she hissed under her breath. "Illusions born of luck. The court will see—"
But Celestia's gaze shifted — silver light flashing like moonlight on water — and Lady Yun's words died in her throat.
"Luck," Celestia said, tone smooth as frost, "is simply another form of skill. Some recognize it. Others… mistake it for threat."
The silence that followed was devastating.
Lady Yun's knuckles went white around her fan. She bowed too deeply, too quickly, her voice barely steady. "Of course, Your Majesty. I spoke out of turn."
"Indeed."
Celestia didn't look away until the woman turned sharply and swept from the courtyard, her silks whispering promises of future spite.
The instant she was gone, the tension in the air loosened — barely.
Li Mei sagged, half-collapsing to her knees as her legs decided they'd had enough. "Is it… over?"
Her System chimed in, all proud and smug.
(Trial complete. Success rate: 78%. Reward granted — Magical Skill Upgrade: Chaos Manipulation I.)
Li Mei wheezed a laugh, exhausted beyond reason. "Fantastic. I survived spontaneous death-by-scrolls and flying kettles. Do I get a snack?"
Celestia tilted her head ever so slightly, her silver hair catching the morning light. "You will rest," she said, a touch gentler now. "You've proven resourceful, little maid. Perhaps more than even I expected."
Li Mei blinked, unsure whether that was a compliment or a threat. "Um… thank you? I think?"
And then — without a single sound — Celestia was gone. Dissolved into air, leaving only a faint trail of jasmine and something cold behind her.
The quiet that followed was deafening.
Jianyu let out a low whistle, stepping closer with that infuriatingly calm expression that never matched the chaos around him. "You do realize," he said, eyes glinting, "that you just turned the imperial courtyard into a teahouse brawl."
She groaned, pressing her palms over her face. "Please don't remind me."
He crouched beside her, his shadow falling across her knees. "Still," he murmured, voice softer now, almost fond. "You handled it. Against Lady Yun, no less. Not many can claim that."
Li Mei peeked at him through her fingers. "Was that… praise?"
"Observation," he corrected, lips curving. "You just happen to be very good at surviving things you shouldn't."
She glared weakly. "You have such a way with compliments."
He chuckled — low and easy — before standing, offering her a hand. "Come on. Before someone else decides you're due for another test."
She stared at his hand for a second before taking it, her fingers warm against his. When he pulled her to her feet, she nearly stumbled into him, their faces close enough for her breath to hitch.
"Careful," Jianyu murmured, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
"Careful?" she repeated, half breathless, half annoyed. "I just survived homicidal paper. I'm always careful."
He smiled. That slow, dangerous smile that always made her forget what she was supposed to say next.
"Good," he said quietly. "Then keep surviving."
And just like that, the moment broke.
Li Mei exhaled, rubbing at her temples, feeling the weight of every ridiculous second of the morning catch up to her. Her stomach growled so loudly it echoed across the courtyard.
"…I don't even care about magical upgrades anymore," she muttered, trudging toward the exit. "I just want noodles."
Jianyu's laugh followed her, smooth and warm as sunlight through smoke. "You've earned them."
She glanced back once — just once — and saw the faintest flicker of silver at the edge of the courtyard, like moonlight caught in the air.
Celestia's unseen gaze lingered.
Li Mei shivered.
Then squared her shoulders. "Noodles first. Existential dread later."