Mei sat demurely in the corner of the courtyard, her hands neatly folded in her lap, eyes half-closed as if lost in thought. The truth was, she was forcing herself to sit still and maintain the delicate façade of calm, even as every fiber of her being screamed in frustration. She'd spent years in the cutthroat world of competitive gaming where problems were solved head-on, with strategy and a good deal of brute force. But here, in the silken prison of the royal harem, the rules of the game were vastly different—and infinitely more annoying.
Across the courtyard, Concubine Xu sat like a queen on her perch, surrounded by her usual group of sycophants. They hovered around her, laughing at her faintest remarks, showering her with compliments as if their very lives depended on it. And maybe they did.
Mei had already learned enough to understand how Xu operated. She ruled with grace and beauty, sure, but her true power lay in the subtle manipulation of those around her. Xu didn't need to make overt threats; her smile was threat enough. A single glance, a sharp-edged compliment, and the entire harem knew where they stood.
Today, Xu had made a point of singling Mei out. Again.
"Sister Mei," Xu called sweetly, her voice laced with honey as always. "I must say, you've been awfully quiet today. Perhaps you're still getting used to palace life?"
Mei forced a smile, the kind she'd used a thousand times before in the world of competitive e-sports when she had to remain polite while secretly planning to crush her opponents. "It's a lot to adjust to, Sister Xu. But I'm learning quickly."
"Oh, I'm sure you are," Xu replied, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Though you should be careful. The palace is not like the outside world. The rules here are... delicate. One wrong move, and you might find yourself isolated."
Mei's smile remained fixed, though internally, she was rolling her eyes. This again? Honestly, lady, do you have nothing better to do? It was the third time this week Xu had made some veiled comment about Mei's "inexperience" or "missteps," always in front of the other concubines, as if she were the reigning schoolyard bully and Mei the new girl everyone was supposed to hate.
But Mei was learning. Slowly, painfully, but she was adapting.
Rather than biting back with the kind of sharp retort she longed to throw at Xu, Mei nodded gracefully. "Thank you for your advice, Sister Xu. I'll be sure to tread carefully." She tilted her head, feigning thoughtfulness. "After all, I wouldn't want to cause... complications for anyone."
Xu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she smiled wider. "Of course not. We wouldn't want that."
The other concubines giggled softly, their voices like a flock of irritating birds, always chirping around Xu to reinforce her dominance. But Mei had been watching. Behind the giggles, there were cracks—subtle, but there. Not all of Xu's followers were as loyal as they seemed. Concubine Linghua, for instance, had the tendency to glance away whenever Xu spoke, her smile faltering at the edges.
Interesting. Mei stored the observation away for later use.
Later that afternoon, Mei retreated to her chambers, glad to be away from the suffocating pretense of the courtyard. The moment the door closed behind her, she let out a heavy sigh, slumping into a chair near the window.
"How do people do this?" she muttered to herself. "I feel like I'm going to explode if I have to listen to one more fake laugh."
She had expected palace life to be restrictive, but this? This was unbearable. Mei could handle strategy. She could handle tactics. But this constant barrage of passive-aggressiveness, this never-ending social chess game? It was draining in a way she hadn't anticipated.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Mei straightened, smoothing her robes before calling out, "Come in."
A maid entered, her head bowed low. "Concubine Mei, would you like me to bring tea?"
Mei studied the maid for a moment. She was young, probably no older than twenty, with a nervous energy that Mei recognized. The maids, though technically lower in status, held far more information than anyone realized. They were invisible, moving through the palace unnoticed, picking up bits of gossip and secrets that could be used in a thousand different ways.
An idea began to form in Mei's mind.
"Yes, bring the tea. And stay a moment, will you?" Mei said, her tone casual, but with just enough warmth to ease the maid's obvious nerves.
The maid bowed again, disappearing briefly before returning with a tray of tea. As she poured, Mei watched her closely, noting the slight tremble in her hands and the way her eyes darted around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.
"You've worked here a long time?" Mei asked, keeping her voice light as she picked up her cup.
The maid hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, Concubine Mei. I've been in the palace for... nearly four years."
"Four years," Mei repeated, swirling the tea in her cup. "That's a long time. You must have seen quite a lot during those years."
The maid's hands froze for a split second before she resumed her task. "I-I suppose so."
Mei smiled, setting her cup down gently. "Don't worry. I'm not looking for trouble. I just... find it helpful to know how things work around here. The palace is very different from what I'm used to."
The maid's shoulders relaxed slightly, though her eyes were still wary. "It is... very different, yes."
Mei leaned forward just a little, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "And sometimes, I feel like everyone's speaking in codes I don't understand. All these unspoken rules... it's exhausting."
The maid glanced up, her gaze briefly meeting Mei's. There was a flicker of something—empathy, perhaps? Trust? Mei wasn't sure, but it was a start.
"I suppose... you're right," the maid said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... difficult, sometimes. Knowing who to trust."
Mei smiled. "Exactly. But I have a feeling that the people who really know what's going on are people like you. The ones who see everything, hear everything, but are smart enough to stay quiet."
The maid's eyes widened slightly, and Mei could almost see the gears turning in her head. She had planted the seed. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.
"I don't want to cause trouble," the maid said quickly, her voice trembling again.
"Of course not," Mei said soothingly. "Neither do I. But, you know, if there's ever anything I should know—anything important—I'd appreciate the help."
The maid hesitated for a long moment before finally nodding. "I'll... keep that in mind, Concubine Mei."
By the time the maid left, Mei felt a small spark of satisfaction. It wasn't much, but it was a start. The palace was full of people who wielded power in obvious ways, but the real power, she realized, came from those who were invisible. The maids, the servants—they knew the secrets that could make or break someone like Concubine Xu. And Mei was determined to find out what those secrets were.
As she stared out the window, watching the sun dip lower in the sky, Mei's mind began to shift into familiar territory—strategizing, planning her next move. Xu may have been the queen of the harem, but she wasn't invincible. And if Mei had learned anything in her previous life, it was that even the strongest players could be taken down with the right strategy.
This was just another game, and Mei was ready to play.