In my third year as a palace maid, I awakened a System that let me see the scripts of other people’s lives.
I looked around. Above the Crown Prince’s head was [willful and self-important], above the Third Prince’s was [all bark and no bite]. Even the most favored consort had the fate [beauty destined for a tragic end].
The whole palace was full of investments that started strong and went nowhere.
Then I spotted the Seventh Prince, Xiao Che, trembling in a corner after nearly choking to death on a pastry.
The labels above his head nearly blinded me:
[Core traits: severe social anxiety, peerless beauty, sweet tooth]
[Fate: hidden dragon in the depths, child of destiny]
[Fortune in the near future: will die in a palace coup three days from now.]
I fell silent.
He was the riskiest penny stock imaginable, always on the verge of crashing and being delisted, but if he ever went public, the payoff would be an entire empire.
I figured I might as well take the chance: maybe I could go from palace maid to empress.
So I carried over a plate of his favorite osmanthus cakes, made with twice the sugar glaze. While he stared at me in despair, I gracefully dealt with the eunuch who had come to provoke him, then held the plate out to him and murmured tenderly, “Your Highness, would you like to stay alive? Stick with me and I’ll carry you to victory.”
