Chen Yue was having a thoroughly unremarkable day. Her morning consisted of polishing an endless series of decorative vases in the West Hall corridor, a task so mind-numbingly dull it made watching paint dry seem like a thrilling spectator sport. Her back ached, her stomach rumbled with the memory of a disappointingly thin breakfast congee, and the scent of lemon-oil polish was starting to make her feel nauseous.
She was a maid in the Chen Family. It was, by mortal standards, a good job. The pay was stable, the food was better than anything in the city, and you were unlikely to be eaten by a random spirit beast on your way to work. But for Chen Yue, it was a life sentence of quiet invisibility. She was a background detail in the epic story of the main family, a silent figure who refilled tea cups, dusted shelves, and was forgotten the moment she left a room. At nineteen, she was stuck at the very First Layer of Qi Condensation, a level she'd only reached because the air in the estate was naturally rich with spiritual energy.
Her current source of misery was a particularly ornate vase that depicted a glorious battle between a dragon and a phoenix. She had been polishing the dragon's left nostril for the better part of an hour, all under the hawk-like supervision of Head Maid Liu, a woman whose smile was as rare as a humble alchemist and whose voice could curdle milk from fifty paces.
"Put more effort into it, Yue," Liu had snapped earlier, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "The Patriarch himself might walk this hall. Do you want him to see a dragon with a dusty nostril? Do you want to bring shame upon us all?"
Yes, Chen Yue had thought, but had said, "Of course not, Head Maid. I will polish with the fury of a thousand suns."
Now, alone in the cavernous hall, she let out a long sigh. "If I have to polish one more nostril," she muttered to the vase, "I'm going to scream."
It was in that moment of soul-crushing boredom that a voice, grander and more ancient than the mountains themselves, spoke directly into the center of her being.
[Mortal soul, rejoice! Your destiny has arrived!]
Chen Yue froze, her polishing rag held mid-swipe. She blinked. The hall was empty. The only sound was the distant chirping of birds and the ever-present hum of the estate's protective formations.
[You have been chosen by a will that transcends dimensions. A supreme treasure, forged in the crucible of primordial chaos by a being outside the grasp of universal law, has found its vessel.]
A translucent panel of shimmering blue light, adorned with elegant golden writing she couldn't read, appeared in the air right in front of her face.
She felt the kind of deep terror usually reserved for finding a scorpion in your shoe. She let out a small yelp and stumbled backward, tripping over her own feet and landing on the polished floor with a loud thump.
"A ghost!" she shrieked, scrambling away on her hands and knees. "The West Hall is haunted! Head Maid Liu, there's a ghost in the dragon vase!"
The voice in her head continued, its majestic tone completely at odds with her frantic scrabbling. [This is no spectral anomaly. This is your chance to grasp fate, to rewrite your lowly existence, to speak truth and command power. This is The Honesty System.]
Chen Yue stopped, her panic momentarily short-circuited by confusion. Honesty? What kind of ghost offered a gift based on honesty? The ghosts in the stories her grandmother told were all about dragging people into wells or stealing their life essence. They were never particularly concerned with moral virtues.
"You're a demon, aren't you?" she whispered, her eyes wide with fear. "You're here to trick me into a soul pact so you can wear my skin and make a mess of the kitchens!"
The system seemed to project a feeling of almost paternal disappointment. [Demonic entities are crude instruments of chaos. I am an arbiter of cosmic truth. To compare me to a demon is to compare a flawlessly written poem to a drunken sailor's limerick.]
The flattery was oddly calming. She had never been compared to a poem before.
[Do you accept this gift of destiny? Do you wish to wield the power of truth and ascend beyond your station?]
Two words, written in a script she could now magically understand, pulsed on the blue screen.
[ACCEPT] / [DECLINE]
Chen Yue stared at them, her heart hammering. This was insane. Voices in the head were a clear sign of either demonic possession or impending madness. The sensible thing to do, the thing Head Maid Liu would advise, was to run screaming for the family's exorcists.
But then, she thought about her life. She thought about the endless vases. She thought about the condescending glances from the junior family members. She thought about Head Maid Liu's perpetually disappointed face. She thought about a future that stretched before her like this very hallway: long, polished, and soul-crushingly the same.
What was the worst that could happen? If she was going to be possessed, at least it would be a break from the routine.
She took a shaky breath. She was a maid, a nobody. But for this one moment, she was a nobody making a decision that could shake the heavens. Or, at least, shake up her work schedule. She focused her will and jabbed her mental finger at [ACCEPT].
The screen flared. [Host confirmed. Binding The Honesty System to the soul… 10%… 50%… 100%. Binding complete. Welcome, Host Chen Yue.]
A warm tingle spread through her, like the first sip of hot tea on a cold morning. The screen vanished. The voice fell silent. Everything seemed… normal. She was still on the floor. The dragon vase still looked mockingly dusty.
A flicker of doubt entered her mind. Had she just been hallucinating? The stress of nostril-polishing had finally broken her brain.
She focused her thoughts inward, speaking with a hesitant respect to the presence she hoped was still there. "Honored endowment? Are you still here?"
A calm voice replied instantly in her mind. [I am.]
The confirmation sent a wave of relief through her. It was real. "What should I call you?" Chen Yue asked, her mental voice a mixture of caution and reverence. "Do you have a name or a title?"
The voice answered as if stating a universal constant. [My designation is The Honesty System. You may call me System.]
System. The word was strange. Not a name a ghost would choose. "Okay, System," she thought, pushing herself back to her feet. "So, how does this work? I just… tell the truth?"
[Correct. The act of speaking a truth that carries karmic weight will be rewarded. The greater the potential consequence of the truth, the greater the reward.]
Before she could ask further, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Xiao Ling, another junior maid, skidded around the corner, her face flushed and panicked.
"Chen Yue! There you are!" Xiao Ling gasped, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. "Head Maid Liu is on the warpath! She's asking if the West Hall vases are finished. Are they? I told her you were almost done!"
This was it. Her first test.