The palace morning was far too quiet.
Sunlight poured through the towering windows of the eastern wing, spilling in golden sheets across the polished marble floor. Each ray caught the edges of gilded columns and carved reliefs of dragons and phoenixes, scattering sharp fragments of light that clung stubbornly to the walls like fireflies. The silence pressed down harder than the weight of all that gold, and Li Mei could feel it in her bones—the kind of silence that made you think something had gone wrong.
Her system had been buzzing since before dawn, and it hadn't shut up since.
[Warning: Magical anomaly detected in the Main Hall. Risk level: High. Recommended actions: investigate, avoid panic, utilize chaos and minor magic. Probability of survival: 58%.]
Li Mei groaned, rubbing her face with both hands as if she could smudge the message away. Fifty-eight percent? That's basically a coin flip. Except instead of heads or tails, it's live or die. Fantastic. Just fantastic.
"Why is my life suddenly a magical horror show with chandeliers?" she muttered under her breath, her voice swallowed by the endless corridor.
The palace didn't answer. Instead, a soft shift in the air—like silk moving in the dark—made her stiffen.
Empress Celestia stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hall. No footsteps, no sound, just there. Her silver eyes gleamed faintly in the morning light, catching every flicker of Li Mei's unease. She didn't need a crown to look like the most dangerous person in the room.
"Li Mei," Celestia said, her voice as calm as a lake on the edge of winter. "The anomaly is subtle but potent. It disrupts balance and perception. Handle it carefully."
Li Mei nodded automatically, though her throat was dry. Handle it carefully. Right. Because that's something I excel at. Careful. Precise. Definitely not chaos incarnate. Nope.
"Subtle… yet potent," Li Mei mumbled, trying to look like someone who had a shred of competence. "Great. Love that combination. Totally reassuring."
She straightened her back, took a deep breath, and stepped into the Main Hall.
At first, it looked normal. The marble was the same flawless white, the chandeliers glittered as always, and the walls still bore their elaborate murals of ancient victories. But as she moved deeper, the air seemed heavier—thicker, almost syrupy. A faint shimmer began to rise off the floor, like heat haze on a summer road.
Then the shimmer twisted.
Pale threads of silver light uncoiled themselves from the marble, floating upward in slow, spiraling ribbons. They weaved together, thin and delicate, yet unnerving in the way they bent the air around them. The lights danced just beyond her reach, and when she blinked, for a heartbeat she thought she saw other figures walking beside her. The swish of silks, the murmur of voices. Guests who weren't there.
Her pulse spiked. Oh great. Hallucinations. Because my life wasn't already stressful enough.
[Ding! Mini-Quest Activated: Investigate and Control Magical Anomaly. Objective: Survive and stabilize the Main Hall while minimizing exposure. Reward: +400 XP, magical control upgrade.]
Li Mei froze, staring at the glowing prompt. "Survive and stabilize? That's the entire objective? Not even a little handholding tutorial? No step-by-step beginner's guide?"
The system did not respond. Of course.
Li Mei's hands curled into fists, sweaty palms betraying her calm façade. She took another step forward, the echo of her slippers swallowed by the endless space of the hall. The shimmering threads followed her movement, twisting tighter, almost curious.
Behind her, the soundless presence of Celestia remained like a weight. Watching. Waiting.
Li Mei swallowed hard. This is fine. Totally fine. Just another Tuesday in palace-survival hell. Worst case scenario, I trip over my own feet and die dramatically in front of everyone. At least that'd be consistent with my track record.
The air rippled again, and the faintest hum rose from the floor—a sound that felt too low to hear, but she felt it in her ribs.
The anomaly had noticed her.
The shimmer deepened.
Threads of silver light twisted faster now, bending and knotting like strands of an invisible loom. The more Li Mei moved forward, the more the hall distorted around her. Shadows stretched too far, columns doubled and blurred. In the corner of her eye, shapes took form—faces, gowns, murmurs of nonexistent footsteps.
Her system chimed at the worst possible moment.
[Warning: Perception field compromised. Illusions may appear indistinguishable from reality. Maintain focus. Probability of panic: 76%.]
"Thanks," Li Mei whispered hoarsely. "I love a system that quantifies my emotional collapse."
From the haze ahead, a figure solidified. A tall man in ceremonial robes, face drawn in stern disapproval. He stepped forward—except he wasn't real. His eyes were glassy, his movement slightly delayed, like a puppet pulled by the wrong strings.
Li Mei's breath caught. Great. First trial of the day: don't scream at hallucinations.
She extended her hand cautiously, tugging at the thin thread of magic she'd been practicing since yesterday's chaos. The illusion shimmered, wavered, and with a nudge of her will it drifted sideways, pressing gently against a column. The "noble" froze mid-step, stuck like a forgotten statue.
[Ding! Skill Activated: Controlled Chaos with Magic. Passive bonus: +10 Magical Control, +5 Social Influence.]
Li Mei nearly laughed in relief. Ha! Controlled chaos! That's a real thing! Look at me, leveling up in survival theatre.
The laugh died when a cold voice slithered through the hall.
"Manipulating illusions now? Impressive… but temporary."
Lady Yun stepped through the entrance, dark silks trailing behind her like the whisper of knives. Her smirk gleamed sharper than the jewels at her throat.
Of course she would show up now.
Li Mei's system pinged in response.
[Warning: Lady Yun present. Probability of interference: 90%. Recommended action: diversion, humor, or controlled magic.]
Li Mei exhaled shakily. "Diversion, humor, magic. Right. The unholy trinity."
Another shimmer flared near her feet. This time, it wasn't one figure—it was many. Shadowy nobles flickered into being all around the hall, their whispers crawling like smoke. The sound of rustling silks, murmured gossip, muffled laughter—except none of it was real.
Panic spiked in her chest. Nope. Not happening. If I have to lose my sanity, I'm at least going down in style.
She reached for the nearest object—a small porcelain vase perched on a side table. With a flick of her fingers, the vase floated into the air. It wobbled dangerously, then shot across the room. It shattered against a column, scattering porcelain shards and a puff of dust.
The illusions jolted at the sound. Their forms rippled, several flickering out entirely.
[Ding! Achievement Unlocked: Illusion Bender. Reward: +500 XP, Magical Finesse improved.]
Li Mei let out a wild little laugh. "Accidents as strategy. Who knew I was a genius?"
Lady Yun's smirk tightened. "A fool playing with toys. The palace does not reward clowns, maid. One misstep, and these illusions will consume you."
Li Mei threw her hands up dramatically. "Consume me? I've barely had breakfast! Can't they at least wait until I've eaten noodles?"
A low chuckle drifted across the hall.
At the far end, Crown Prince Jianyu leaned lazily against a column, the golden light catching on his black robes. His gaze flickered from the flickering illusions to Li Mei, sharp and amused all at once.
"Entertaining," he said, voice smooth as velvet, edged with danger. "You've turned panic into performance art. But don't get cocky. The palace often tests the bold and the clever alike."
Li Mei groaned. "Bold, clever, panicked—it's all the same thing, Your Highness."
Another illusion formed beside her—this one looked exactly like Lady Yun, smirking and whispering venomous insults. The sound of it echoed through the chamber, clawing at Li Mei's nerves.
She snapped. With a flourish she didn't really feel confident about, she lifted three candlesticks from a nearby table and sent them floating across the air like drunken fireflies. At the same time, she muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Watch out! The chandelier is… alive!"
Gasps rippled through the illusions and even from the few real attendants lingering at the edges of the hall. The great chandelier swayed ever so slightly, thanks to her shaky magical nudge.
Screams erupted. Illusions flickered wildly. Half the hall dissolved into chaos.
Lady Yun hissed, her composure slipping. "Ridiculous."
Li Mei ducked behind a column, biting back nervous laughter as her system chimed again.
[Hint: Use humor to distract NPCs and combine with minor magic to stabilize anomaly. Success probability: rising.]
Objects rolled, floated, and clattered across the hall as Li Mei let her instincts take over. A plate spun lazily in the air, a chair rolled across the floor, candlesticks danced like drunks at a tavern. Chaos reigned, but none of it was truly harmful.
Through it all, Jianyu's voice slid like a blade in velvet. "Surprisingly adept, little maid. You've made chaos… look like art."
Li Mei huffed, half-panicked, half-defiant. "Art? I'm trying not to die here, not audition for court jester!"
Above, Celestia's voice descended soft but commanding, the silver edge unmistakable. "Focus, Li Mei. These illusions are not merely for show. They test perception, patience, and creativity. You will need all three."
The words rang like bells, cool and merciless, echoing against the flickering light.
And in that moment, Li Mei realized she was balancing on a razor's edge—between comedy and catastrophe, between survival and spectacle.
The hall sagged into silence, if silence could be called the shivering breaths of a hundred nobles trying very hard not to faint. The last of the illusions bled away like spilled ink dissolving into water, leaving behind overturned tables, broken crystal, and the faint ozone-tang of magic clinging to the air.
Li Mei's hands trembled as she lowered them, every nerve sparking with fatigue. The System purred in her mind, far too pleased with itself.
[System Log Updated.]
200 XP.
Skill: Controlled Chaos (Lv.1).
Entanglement with Jianyu: ↑↑↑
"Great," she muttered under her breath. "Leveling up in ways I didn't ask for. Next time, maybe unlock Noodle Summoning instead?"
Celestia emerged from the shadows like a wisp of moonlight, her expression calm, almost indulgent. She leaned close, her voice low enough for only Li Mei to hear.
"You did not fall apart," she murmured. "Good. But remember—control is not the same as balance. Do not mistake one for the other."
Li Mei, too tired to argue philosophy, just nodded. "Balance, control, survival. Got it. Put it on a tea mug."
Across the hall, Lady Yun seethed, her gown bristling with angry sparks of qi. Her glare was sharp enough to cut glass, but she swept away without another word, silken sleeves snapping like banners in retreat.
Jianyu, of course, lingered. He leaned lazily against a shattered column, the flicker of firelight catching his smile. "You do have a talent for spectacle," he drawled. "If you wanted my attention, you could have just asked."
"Please," Li Mei groaned, "if I wanted your attention, I'd juggle knives and recite bad poetry. This was a malfunction, not an invitation."
"Mm," Jianyu said, eyes glinting with the kind of amusement that made her skin prickle. "Malfunction or fate—it looks the same from here."
Her knees wobbled as she stepped over a cracked tile. "Whatever it is, it's exhausting. And now I really, really want noodles."
The nobles were beginning to murmur again, fear clinging to them like perfume. Servants rushed to right the chaos, lanterns swayed on their chains, and the great hall still thrummed faintly, like the palace itself was holding its breath.
Li Mei paused at the threshold, a chill whisper tugging at the edge of her mind. The shadows in the rafters rippled, carrying words she couldn't quite make out.
The System blinked a quiet warning:
[Ominous Energy Detected.]
[Stability… 47%.]
Li Mei sighed. "Perfect. Haunted palace, murderous nobles, creepy whispers. But no noodles."
She squared her shoulders, forcing herself onward. The storm had quieted, yes—but the air still smelled of thunder.