At the Harvest Moon Gala, as music and light filled the palace, an unknown woman suddenly proclaimed, "The titans of old are dust, mythic empires rust... Legendary heroes are but shadows, while true glory burns in our time!" I nearly choked on my tea. I wanted to shake her—"Sister, wake up! This is a fictional world. No Roman Emperors, no Greek heroes, no Genghis Khan. See the reality!" The hall fell silent. Nobles exchanged baffled glances. The Emperor chuckled awkwardly, lost for words. Fifi Meadows stood smugly, hip cocked as if awaiting applause. Sighing, I curtsied to the Emperor. "Your Majesty, I feel drawn to Lady Fifi. May I take her into my household?" "Granted." He gave me a knowing look while Fifi glared daggers at me. Another sigh. Of all fellow travelers from my world, why did it have to be a fool? 1 My name is Lashana Veyle. I am the Duchess of Sunstone in the Kingdom of Aethel. And for a fellow transmigrator, Fifi Meadows was a true spectacle of idiocy. I lived my new life on a razor’s edge. I was meticulously careful, never daring to reveal my modern sensibilities, never producing anything anachronistic, and certainly never claiming the poetry of my world’s long-dead masters as my own. Fifi, on the other hand, lectured everyone she met on the virtues of democracy and free speech. She held court in my own ducal manor, preaching about universal equality and forcing my handmaidens to dine at the same table as her. Her cultural knowledge seemed to be limited to a basic high school education; she recited half-remembered lines from Shakespeare and Frost over and over again. This, in itself, wasn’t a catastrophe. Confined to my manor, the staff simply concluded she was mad. Her shocking pronouncements wouldn’t travel beyond the walls. But the girl had no sense of self-preservation. One day, just as I was about to extend a hand of friendship, to call her ‘sister’ in our shared, secret language of displacement, she scowled at me. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Lashana Veyle, don’t think being a duchess makes you special. If you hadn’t stolen my thunder at the gala, I’d already be the most celebrated poet in the kingdom.” “…” Words failed me. I turned to leave. Some fools were beyond salvation. “Hey,” Fifi called out impatiently, puffing up like an arrogant peacock. “Where am I supposed to live?” Behind me, my two guards, Lyra and Vesper, clenched their fists, their knuckles white. They were just waiting for my order to march over and slap some sense into her. I swallowed my anger. “Take Lady Fifi to… the Rosewood Pavilion.” The Rosewood Pavilion was the most remote courtyard in the entire estate. Out of sight, out of mind. Her appointed maid later reported to me in secret, whispering that Fifi spent her days staring into the mirror, chanting, “Brave Fifi, fear no evil. I will be the Empress. The Empress is me.” The poor maid clung to my leg, weeping and begging me to reassign her. Coveting the Emperor’s throne was high treason, a crime punishable by a slow, agonizing death. She was terrified that when Fifi was inevitably executed, she’d be dragged down with her. I had to promise her, repeatedly, that even if Fifi charged the palace with a dagger, I could guarantee her safety. Only then did she release her grip on my leg. Fifi was so stunningly stupid, she must have been brainwashed by a self-help guru. I was drowning in my own duties. The Autumn Equinox was approaching, which meant new clothes and bonuses for the entire ducal staff. Then there was my mother’s family at Veyle Manor to attend to. My ten-year-old sister, Elara, had apparently defeated every other student at the Royal Academy in single combat, and I had to make personal apologies to a dozen noble houses. My father, suffering from gout, threw a tantrum every time I restricted his diet, threatening to join a monastery. My brother, Cassian, had fallen for the top courtesan at the Gilded Cage and was currently being disciplined by his wife, a formidable woman from a mercenary guild… what a harmonious, picture-perfect family. Fifi burst into my study without knocking, rolling her eyes dramatically. “My, my, Duchess, what airs you put on. You actually dared to keep me waiting for a whole ten minutes.” I ignored her, my eyes fixed on the ledgers. My handmaiden, Jade, couldn’t hold back. “My lady is the Duchess of Sunstone, favored by the Emperor himself!” she fumed. “Even royal princes and the Emperor’s own consorts show her respect! Who do you think you are, waltzing in here without so much as a curtsy?” Fifi rolled her eyes again. “I act this way in front of the Emperor, too. What are you going to do about it?” I had to smile at that. The Emperor was famously magnanimous, never sweating the small stuff. And this fool mistook his tolerance for a license to be reckless. Ignoring Jade’s ferocious glare, Fifi plopped down in the chair opposite me, slouching gracelessly and helping herself to the pastries on my desk. I shot a sharp look at Jade. She understood immediately and led the other servants from the room. Only then did I raise my eyes to truly study Fifi. She had a delicate, girl-next-door beauty, but she was draped in gaudy crimson silks and glittering jewels that clashed horribly, making her look like a parody of a noblewoman. Sensing my gaze, she preened, flicking her hair. “The Emperor is deeply in love with me,” she stated with absolute certainty. “It’s useless for you to keep me locked up in here. You’d be wise to let me go. Otherwise, when His Majesty’s wrath descends, you won’t be able to handle the consequences.” 2 Fifi’s earnest conviction left me speechless. The imperial court was a nest of vipers. With the Empress’s throne empty, the two most powerful consorts—Lady Thea, the Emperor’s childhood sweetheart, and Lady Cora, sister to the formidable Prince Regent—were locked in a battle to the death. They used lower-ranking ladies-in-waiting as pawns in their schemes, discarding them without a second thought. Young women were sent into the palace like fresh flowers and came out as bleached bones. Any sensible girl, upon hearing she was chosen for the court, would sooner throw herself down a well. The Emperor’s handsome face meant nothing when your life was on the line. Three years ago, I’d taken an assassin’s arrow for the Emperor. He claimed it was love at first sight and, breaking all precedent, made me a Duchess. He had hinted, and then outright stated, on multiple occasions that he wanted me in his palace. I refused every time. The so-called “true love” offered by a man with a harem of hundreds was cheap. I had assumed this was a shared sentiment among transmigrators. Fifi, however, was a testament to the sheer diversity of our species. Not only was she champing at the bit to dive into the court intrigue, but she’d also developed a full-blown delusion that the Emperor was passionately in love with her. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I prided myself on my eloquence, my ability to talk my way out of any situation. But looking at Fifi, all I could think was: my native tongue is stunned silence. A few days ago, Fifi had managed to sneak out and position herself along the Emperor’s procession route. She’d put on a grand performance, weeping and pleading with him. I don’t know what she said, but she somehow convinced him to name her a Baroness and grant her half of my own ducal estate. Fifi was now absolutely insufferable, puffed up with pride like a balloon. She marched around my gardens, pointing at the ancient plum trees and the vibrant azaleas. The plums, she declared, were bad luck because their name sounded like the word for “misfortune.” The azaleas were unlucky, their crimson blossoms reminding her of blood. And the Emperor indulged her. He ordered the trees cut down and the flowers uprooted. She said she wanted a high place from which to gaze at the moon, so he immediately commissioned the construction of a “Stargazer’s Tower.” Whispers in the capital grew louder: the Emperor had been bewitched by a siren. Countless scholars scribbled angry poems on my manor walls, cursing her. From time to time, people would even fling dung at the gates. One day, I almost got beaten by a mob that mistook me for her. She, however, wore this infamy like a badge of honor. She ordered the poems collected into an anthology, claiming she wanted to “preserve them for posterity.” She spun around like a hedgehog, pricking everyone she met. The worst was when she stormed into Princess Aurelia’s estate and mocked the princess for her unrequited love for a certain Marquis, accusing her of being unchaste. This was beyond foolish. Princess Aurelia wasn’t just anyone. She was the Emperor’s beloved younger sister, the jewel of the kingdom, a peerless beauty celebrated for her kindness, intelligence, and skill with a sword. From the lowliest street vendor to the Emperor and the Prince Regent themselves, no one would dare speak a harsh word to Aurelia. If Aurelia so much as frowned, the heart of the nation would break. Chastity? Aurelia didn't need to follow the rules of chastity. Aurelia could rewrite the rules of chastity. When I rushed to the princess’s estate, I found Fifi hanging upside down from a tree, swinging like a grotesque piñata. The sight was deeply satisfying. But I had to plaster a somber expression on my face and beg Aurelia to let her down. Aurelia, a dear friend of mine, furiously threw her sword to the ground. “Lashana, have you lost your mind? I’ve seen my share of baronesses and duchesses, but never one so arrogant and stupid. Why are you keeping this lunatic in your house?” I curtsied deeply. “Your Highness, I truly don’t know what purpose she serves. But she is, after all, a Baroness created by the Emperor himself. If she were to die like this… I fear His Majesty would hold me accountable.” “Get out,” Aurelia snapped, waving a dismissive hand. “Of course, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness.” I had my people escort Fifi back to my manor and went straight to the palace. My main concern was the Emperor’s mental state. He could be a bastard, but he was a wise ruler. He never let personal feelings cloud his judgment on matters of state. It was impossible that he would disregard law and reason for a woman. When his feelings for me were at their peak, I was framed by the Prince Regent and thrown in prison. He knew I was innocent, yet he kept me locked up for two weeks until he had irrefutable proof to clear my name publicly. The idea that he was "bewitched by lust" was laughable. 3 “Lashana, you came.” In the imperial study, the brilliant young emperor put down his vermilion brush, his face lighting up with surprise as he took my hand. It was true; I never sought him out voluntarily, not even when my life was on the line. I performed the formal curtsy and delicately brought up the incident with Princess Aurelia. The Emperor just smiled and asked an unrelated question. “Lashana, have you ever heard of the scholar Sir Malcom from the previous dynasty?” I maintained my respectful, distant tone. “I have not, Your Majesty.” He gently tapped my nose and pulled me closer to his side. “Sir Malcom was a genius of his time. With a pen, he could govern the world; on a horse, he could conquer it. He redesigned the river levees and built reservoirs, saving sixteen cities from devastating floods. He claimed to be a ‘traveler’ from another world. He refused all titles and rewards, choosing to live in seclusion with his family. I suspect… that Lady Fifi may be his descendant. Or perhaps… she is a traveler, too. She can recite Sir Malcom’s poetry.” “Which poem?” “‘The world is a vast and fleeting stage, our time a flickering light; why rush and rage? Our lives are a struggle, a contest of might, yet we forget that fortune is fickle, our gains ever slight. See the autumn wind in the golden valley, the cold moon on the midnight river, the palaces of old now silent and chilly, the bronze pavilions now dust forever. Glory is but dew on a flower, wealth is frost on the grass; see through the illusion of power, and all your worries will pass.’” My heart twisted. Had I known that reciting a simple poem was all it took to win the Emperor’s favor, why did I have to throw myself in front of that arrow? It had pierced my left shoulder, and to this day, the arm is weak, aching with a deep, grinding pain on cold, rainy days. I didn’t recite the rest of the poem to reveal my identity. I just asked, my voice flat, “What is it you hope to gain, Your Majesty?” The Emperor’s smile was clear and bright, his eyes filled with the pride of a man who held the world in his hands. “If she is Sir Malcom’s descendant, her title is justified. If she is a traveler, then even if she seems useless now, she will inevitably contribute to the kingdom in the future. Either way, it’s a sound investment.” I sighed silently. As a transmigrator, I couldn’t cure all diseases. I couldn’t invent cement, glass, or soap. I couldn’t smelt steel. In my past life, I’d spent seven years studying medical imaging—a field utterly useless here. All I had was a bit of basic medical knowledge, which was better than nothing, but not by much. The Emperor, full of vigor, tossed a book to his head eunuch. “Take this collection of forbidden poems to the Royal Scribes,” he commanded with a laugh. “Have them copy it. I want a volume in the hands of every official in every province. And issue my decree: anyone, man or woman, old or young, who can recite these poems is to be arrested and brought to me.” A profound chill washed over me. Fifi was bait. The Emperor was fishing for people like me. The more foolish and arrogant she acted, the more he showered her with favor, the more believable the story that our kingdom welcomed transmigrators would become. The ruse had almost tempted me, a woman who wanted for nothing. What about our other countrymen, lost and struggling just to survive in this strange world? The Emperor leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. His voice was a soft, dangerous murmur. “If these travelers serve Aethel, they will be rewarded. If they do not… they will be eliminated. To crush any future dissent, to protect the foundations of my throne.” His words were as gentle as a spring breeze, but I felt as if I’d been plunged into a frozen lake. The way he bit down on the word “eliminated” was heavy with intent. Thank God I had always been so cautious, never revealing myself. But the Emperor was clever enough to connect an old dynasty’s scholar to Fifi through a single poem, to deduce her origins, and to quietly compile an anthology to hunt down every last one of us for his own use. Fifi’s title was a sugar-coated poison pill. What about my duchy? Was I truly so flawless in my disguise? And even if he had already discovered me, was my loyalty not enough? Was this his way of telling me to confess? I had no idea how many people he would catch. In my five years here, I had only ever met one other transmigrator, Kaelen, and one “aberration,” Orion. Fifi didn’t count. She wasn’t worthy. In my eyes, Fifi was as dumb as a pig. But I had to wonder… in the Emperor’s eyes, was I the real fool? 4 Leaving the palace, I ran into Prince Kaelen. He hopped into my carriage with easy familiarity, a teasing smile on his face. “Lashana, my friend. You, I, and Lady Fifi are all… you know. You’ve always been so kind and warm. Why are you and she like fire and water? Could it be… you’re jealous?” Kaelen was my best friend. His current identity was that of a hostage prince from a small, conquered kingdom. He lived his life in Aethel walking on eggshells, cautious to a fault, never saying a wrong word, never making a wrong move. He was even more useless than me. In his past life, he was a programmer. I lifted the carriage curtain, glanced outside, then leaned close to Kaelen’s ear and told him everything that had happened in the study. He broke out in a cold sweat, his already pale, scholarly face turning as white as a sheet. “We have to go,” he hissed. “We can’t stay in the capital. We have to run.” “Fine,” I said calmly. “But you might want to put the knife down first.” The blade I held against his throat pressed a fraction of an inch deeper. He sighed. “You’re a Duchess, and I’m a royal hostage. We can never leave this city. Don’t be afraid, Lashana. The Emperor loves you. He would never kill you. Last month you tore up an imperial edict naming you his consort, and you threw the Imperial Seal at him during an argument. He didn’t punish you at all. His love for you is as deep as the sea.” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Deep as the sea? How many women are in his harem? Just because he claims to love me, I’m supposed to lock myself in that gilded cage? I’m not someone who can be imprisoned in the name of love. Besides, do you think Lady Thea and Lady Cora are easy to deal with? He can protect me ten times, a hundred times, but can he protect me for a lifetime? And we argued because he wanted to marry Elara off to the barbarian king of the Sunstone Isles. Elara is ten, Kaelen! Ten! I will never accept that.” “Never?” “Never!” Kaelen stared at me, then a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes shining. “Alright. I’ll get you out of here. After all, who knows what the Emperor expects from us? If he thinks we can move mountains or bring the dead back to life… we’d be better off dead. I promised I’d help you escape, and I won’t break my word. This is a serious matter; we need a long-term plan. Promise me, until then, you won’t panic. You won’t do anything reckless. Wait for me.” “Okay.” The maid from the Rosewood Pavilion reported that Fifi had been talking to herself again, convinced she was going mad. “Are you sure this is a sweet romance plot? Shouldn’t the heroine in a sweet romance just sit there while men fall all over her? Why do I only have the Emperor? Where are my second and third male leads?” “That cannon fodder Duchess is always making trouble for me. I complained to the Emperor, but he ignored me. I don’t want him as the male lead. He’s not worthy.” “I almost got killed by Princess Aurelia today. What a disaster. Grinding for points is so hard. Good thing I’m the protagonist and can’t die, or I’d be done for.” I stood silently outside her window. This whole unscientific business of transmigration had forcibly converted me from a staunch materialist to something else entirely. I was open to anything now. Reincarnation, cultivation, system interfaces… bring it on. My ‘aberration’ friend had been reborn ten times. He called himself Orion, a name he chose because it sounded like “aura of nothingness.” My old friend Orion wasn't driven by any grand obsession; he was just immune to the waters of forgetfulness between lives. He had no special powers, but his mental state was… unique. His heart was like deadwood, utterly devoid of worldly desires. He didn’t work, didn’t marry, didn’t read, didn’t practice martial arts. Nominally a servant in my manor, he did absolutely nothing. He dressed like a beggar and spent his days lying on the roof, sunbathing and stargazing. When I felt overwhelmed, I’d bring wine and food up to the roof and listen to him talk about nihilism and Schopenhauer. I entered Fifi’s room, dismissed the maid, and prepared to have a serious talk with her. Before I could say a word, she started babbling. 5 “Let me tell you something,” she began, her eyes wide. “We’re all just characters in a book. You’re the cannon fodder rival, and I’m the female lead. I’m destined to marry the Emperor, become the Empress, and rule the world.” I laughed. The female lead was supposed to be a devastating beauty who weaponized her looks, or a lucky charm who stumbled into success, or a brilliant strategist, a female Zhuge Liang. Even a useless, clinging vine type had the skill to charm a man into doing her bidding. Even a villainess had to be ruthless and beautiful, with a knack for poison and a talent for scheming. “No protagonist is as stupid as you,” I said with contempt. She just grinned. “Hahahaha! That’s because I have a point system! Every poem written to curse me earns me one point. Offending a commoner gets me ten. Offending Princess Aurelia? That got me a hundred thousand points! A hundred thousand!” My already fragile worldview took another major hit. What kind of garbage system was this, rewarding someone for making enemies? Was that a sustainable growth model? Was the ultimate prize a choice between a silken cord, a dagger, and a cup of poison? She sat on her bed, looking at me like a smug child. “And you? You’ll be sent as a political bride to the Sunstone Isles. You’ll die in humiliation on the way. Prince Kaelen will try to retrieve your body, get trapped in a swamp, and his bones will never be found.” I silently rolled my eyes. “Don’t you believe me?” she said. “The Emperor is already sick of you. He’s just using you to pave my way. It was love at first sight for him. He’s completely smitten. Why else would he break all the rules to make me a Baroness?” Looking at Fifi’s unwavering conviction, I felt a deep sense of regret. Why did I think I could have a rational conversation with a lunatic? Wasting time is wasting life. I said nothing, gave her one last look of profound pity, and turned to leave. She leaped off the bed and blocked my path, speaking to the empty air. “System A, I want to use one million points to redeem the Pill of Absolute Obedience.” In the blink of an eye, a small pill materialized in her hand. She grabbed my chin, a vicious smile spreading across her face, and tried to force it into my mouth. “Swallow this, and you’ll have to do everything I say. It was worth offending all those people to finally get something useful.” CRACK. Fifi crumpled to the floor. I had grabbed the nearest vase and smashed it over her head. The Veyle family had a strong martial tradition. My shoulder injury prevented me from serious training, but I could still handle at least three pampered noblewomen in a fight. I glanced down at her unconscious form and, mimicking her, spoke to the empty air with a string of creative curses. “So you’re the fucking ‘System,’ huh? Let me show you what happens when a human decides to defy fate. Characters in a book? My ass! Did it ever occur to you to tell your host that scheming without the strength to back it up is just asking for a beating?”
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