The next morning, as Zhao Lian stepped out of the house, to wander about like she had always done, she pushed open the tall vermilion gates of the Zhao manor.
Dew clung to the carved wood, glistening faintly in the soft touch of dawn. The hinges creaked, though softly, like an old servant clearing his throat, and the world outside greeted her with a fragrance of wet earth and plum blossoms carried by the early breeze.
The morning sun had just begun to stretch its golden fingers across the tiled rooftops of Broken Heaven City. Vendors were already setting up their stalls along the distant street, their voices faint yet cheerful, calling out to early customers. Somewhere nearby, a bell rang—slow and clear—signaling the start of the day's market bustle.
But in this first breath of quiet, the world felt hers alone.
Lian tugged her sleeves higher, her peach robe catching faint streaks of light as she stepped past the stone lions guarding the gate. She let her eyes wander across the wide avenue beyond, lined with flowering osmanthus trees whose petals had begun to fall like drifting stars.
Her lips curled into that small, cocky smile of hers. Another day of aimless freedom, she thought, her heart lighter than the morning air.
---
That was until someone caught up with her.
"Ms. Zhao?" a voice called.
Surprised that anyone knew her, Zhao Lian turned sharply. Her brows lifted, eyes blinking twice. Before her stood a middle-aged woman, holding a sachet heavy with coin, the strings tied so tightly they looked ready to burst.
"You're the girl who played the guqin here during the Dragon Festival, right?"
That question was odd. Lian tilted her head slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. But she nodded.
Suddenly the woman's entire face lit up, her cheeks dimpling as though she had just seen her favorite idol.
"My daughter has not stopped talking about you! And heavens, you're even more beautiful than she described."
Awkward. Lian gave a tight smile, her shoulders rising as if the world had just decided to play unfair with her. "Thank you, Mrs…?"
"Ah, call me Zing. I'm younger than you think."
Lian's polite smile twitched. "No problem…" She made a half-turn, obviously ready to run off, but the woman's hand darted out and clasped hers firmly.
"Can I ask you a favor?"
The corners of Lian's smile froze. Her neck stiffened as she slowly nodded, already not liking the sound of this.
"It's my daughter's coming of age next month. Would you play for her? She would be so pleased."
Zhao Lian mentally cursed herself. Her lashes fluttered as she forced her lips into something resembling delight. "Would she be grateful to have me there?" she asked flatly.
The woman gave her a 'Why wouldn't she?' look, then beamed even brighter. "She has spoken about you to my husband and me since the day of the festival. She even goes to the marketplace now, hoping to see you again! Why wouldn't she be happy?"
Seeing that glow of happiness, Zhao Lian couldn't bring herself to refuse. She gave a stiff nod and a smile that looked more like someone chewing a bitter plum. "Of course. I'll be there. Wouldn't want to miss her coming of age ceremony."
Zing clapped her hands together and happily pressed the heavy sachet of fifty jade coins into Lian's palm before striding away.
As soon as the woman disappeared down the street, Zhao Lian muttered under her breath. "That girl is a nut job. Idolize someone like me? Hah."
But fate clearly wasn't done toying with her.
By the end of that day, five… no, ten people had approached her with requests to perform at festivals, ceremonies, even someone's tea party. Each encounter added another pouch of coins to her sleeve.
"Am I becoming a celebrity?" Lian muttered, her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to dodge another enthusiastic uncle waving a paper fan at her. "No! That's not what I want!"
Things only spiraled from there.
"Miss Zhao!"
"Zhao Lian!"
A chorus of voices rose. She turned, eyes wide, only to see a large group of people rushing toward her like a tidal wave.
Her jaw dropped. Oh no.
This wasn't admiration. This was a mob.
And unlike her modern life, there were no bodyguards, no barriers, no one to hold back these fanatics.
So, she did the only sensible thing—she bolted.
Her peach robes fluttered wildly as she dashed through the streets, her hairpin barely clinging to her bun. Her breath came in short gasps as she darted into an alley, diving into a bundle of thick black cloth hanging from a laundry pole. The fabric swallowed her up, and she crouched, clutching her chest, breathing as if someone had stolen half the air from her lungs.
Her hands shook. Her lips trembled. And then—her eyes narrowed.
She remembered.
The system.
"Hey! System!" she hissed in a harsh whisper.
Silence.
Her jaw dropped. She smacked her palm against her forehead. "Wow! Are you ignoring me? Seriously?"
Finally, a faint ding echoed in her mind.
[System assists host 24/7. You have a question?]
"Yes! Why in the seven realms am I getting so many people chasing after me? I feel like a celebrity overnight!" she snapped, tugging the black cloth tighter over her head.
[Your favorability among the masses has increased. You have earned 200 popularity points and 5 Fortune Tokens. If host continues playing correctly, popularity will increase to 100%, surpassing that of your sister, Zhao Yue.]
Lian's face twisted in horror. She slapped her cheeks twice dramatically. "No! I like my quiet life. I don't want to be—what—an idol!?" She flung her arms out, nearly toppling the laundry pole. "I only wanted to teach my parents and that sister of mine a lesson. Not this nonsense!"
[That is how the game was created. You cannot go against the game.]
Her mouth fell open. She pointed a trembling finger at the air. "Are you kidding me? You can't just say that! Do you even know what peace is? Or personal space?!"
[You may skip these plots… only if you give up half your life.]
Lian froze mid-gesture. "What?" Her hand dropped to her side.
[Exactly. Host has many more games ahead. You wouldn't want to lose them because of your foolishness, right?]
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed dangerously. "Did you just call me foolish?"
[Yes! Now proceed with the game.]
Her jaw dropped again. She stomped the ground so hard that dust puffed around her slippers. "I'll get back at you! Do you hear me? I'll curse your creator, your ancestors, and your next ten generations!"
She stomped again, shaking her fists at the sky, muttering insults loud enough for a passing child to tug on his mother's sleeve and whisper, "Mama, is that lady scolding the heavens?"
"Scolding? She looks like she's bargaining for her soul," the mother replied, staring in awe.
Lian, oblivious, continued to wave her arms wildly like a deranged exorcist. Her once peaceful morning had turned into a spectacle of guqin fame, runaway chaos, and one furious girl publicly arguing with thin air.
And just when she thought she'd caught her breath, a sharp gasp rose nearby.
"Look! It's Miss Zhao!"
Lian froze. Slowly, her head turned.
A cluster of people were pointing at her, eyes sparkling with admiration.
"Oh no…" she whispered.
And then she ran again—this time straight for the Zhao Manor gates—hairpin tumbling out as she shouted fresh insults at the system and its mysterious creator, her voice carrying through the streets like a madwoman performing a one-woman opera.
Her once peaceful morning had indeed become a wild symphony of guqin, chaos, and curses.
---
Zhao Lian burst through the gates of Zhao Manor, her robes in disarray, hair tumbling from its pins like an unraveling scroll. She half-collapsed against the stone wall, panting so heavily one would think she had been chased by demons rather than enthusiastic townsfolk.
The guards at the gate exchanged bewildered glances.
"Did… did Young Miss just run a race?" one whispered, squinting at her.
"She's pale, but still alive. Maybe it's some new cultivation training?" the other muttered, scratching his head.
Their whispers followed her like fleas as she staggered across the courtyard, one shoe half-falling off, muttering incoherently about "stupid systems" and "unworthy ancestors."
Servants peeked from doorways. A maid carrying a basket of laundry froze mid-step, mouth falling open. Another, polishing a bronze mirror, nearly dropped it when Zhao Lian stomped by, throwing her arms to the sky.
"May your creator trip on his own robes! May your ancestors be reborn as donkeys!" she shouted, shaking a fist at thin air.
The servants clutched their mouths, exchanging alarmed looks.
"Is… Young Miss possessed?" one whispered.
"No, worse," another hissed. "She's heartbroken! That's how the dramas start—ranting at the heavens!"
A boy sweeping the walkway nodded sagely. "No, no. She's clearly arguing with an immortal spirit only she can see."
"Shh! If you say that aloud, she'll curse you next!"
Zhao Lian, oblivious to their gossip, dragged herself toward her quarters like a war veteran returning from battle. She collapsed into her bed, flopping so dramatically that the mattress creaked in protest. Her arms sprawled wide, her hair a chaotic halo.
Her chest rose and fell with exaggerated gasps as she whispered hoarsely, "System… you… villainous parasite…"
In her mind, the ding chimed again, annoyingly cheerful.
[System is not a parasite. System is eternal guidance.]
She sat up violently, eyes bloodshot, finger trembling as she pointed at nothing. "Guidance? You nearly guided me to my grave! I was one scream away from being trampled by crazy fans!"
[Correction: Admiring citizens.]
"Admiring my backside when I ran like a headless chicken?!" She slapped the quilt so hard the sound echoed. "You call that admiration?!"
[Host should be grateful. This is the path of greatness.]
She gave a humorless laugh, eyes narrowing to slits. "Greatness? You want greatness? I'll show you greatness—when I figure out how to dismantle you bolt by bolt!"
[System has no bolts.]
"Shut up!"
She flung a pillow across the room. It hit a vase, which wobbled dangerously before crashing to the ground.
The commotion was enough to send the servants huddling outside her room into a frenzy of whispers.
"She's throwing things now."
"Definitely possessed."
"Or practicing a demonic technique…"
Inside, Zhao Lian buried her face in the quilt, voice muffled but still sharp. "One day, I'll find your creator. I'll tear up his rule book, shove it down his throat, and ask if he still thinks it's funny!"
[Host's temper is statistically higher than average.]
"Keep talking, and I'll bury you under this mattress," she snapped, rolling around like a frustrated child until she ended up dangling halfway off the bed, hair dragging the floor.
That was the sight Xu walked in on. Her personal maid. Who was held in by Yue. She was the only one ever careful dealing with Lian, the day Yue, took all the servants and maids away. Leaving Lian with nothing but disrespect.
"Miss!" Xu gasped, dropping the tray of tea she carried. Porcelain shattered as she rushed forward.
On the floor, Zhao Lian lay sprawled like she'd been struck by lightning, her hand flopped dramatically across her forehead.
"I'm dying, Jie… dying of humiliation," she whispered, eyes rolling half-closed as though she were already halfway to the afterlife.
Xu's eyes widened in horror. "Miss! Who bullied you? Tell me, and I'll tear them apart with my bare hands!"
"No one…" Zhao Lian croaked, voice breaking like a tragic heroine. "It was… the heavens… they mocked me."
Xu's lips parted. She looked around the room, clearly ready to fight invisible enemies. "The heavens?"
"Yes…" Zhao Lian muttered, rolling onto her side dramatically. "They sent me admirers. Admirers, Mei! Do you know what that means?" She grabbed Mei's sleeve suddenly, eyes blazing with outrage.
Xu blinked, frozen. "…People like you?"
"Exactly!" Lian shrieked, then flopped back down. "It's chaos! Absolute chaos! I can't walk a single street without someone screaming my name like I'm some celestial rooster announcing dawn!"
Xu pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to laugh, but her shoulders trembled. "That doesn't sound… bad, Miss. Isn't it good to be admired?"
"Good? GOOD?!" Lian sat up, hair wild, pointing a trembling finger at Mei's nose. "You think I enjoy being chased like a runaway piglet on market day?!"
Xu burst into laughter before she could stop herself, clutching her stomach as her eyes watered.
Zhao Lian froze, face slowly reddening. "You're laughing?! At my misery?!"
Xu quickly waved her hands, still giggling. "No, no, Miss! I just—" She hiccuped mid-laugh. "The way you said piglet—"
"Out! Get out before I strangle you with my hair ribbon!"
But Xu only laughed harder, collapsing to her knees beside the bed, until Zhao Lian finally gave up, flopping back with a groan.
And for a brief moment, despite her chaos, her anger, and the ever-annoying system humming in her mind, Zhao Lian couldn't help but smile faintly into the quilt.
Her life might be madness now—but at least it wasn't boring.