Chapter 3: Wear

Wei Tingchun ran all the way back to the courtyard along the palace path. After such a delay, the system had already begun counting down the time until her capture.

Wei Tingchun glanced at it—she had one hour and fifty minutes left before being caught.

Returning to the courtyard, she recalled the icy prince from earlier and sighed. She had still ended up seeing his face.

Wei Tingchun deliberately took some time to think about that child, then found something to eat. As she ate, she watched the countdown to her capture.

Because she checked the time so frequently, she noticed the date displayed by the system: today was the third day of the third month.

Wei Tingchun paused mid-bite, letting out a soft “Ah.”

Then she stood up, preparing to visit the Catering Division.

Today was her birthday.

With forty minutes left on the countdown, Wei Tingchun used the bracelet of the maid who had framed her to trade with the master chef of the Catering Division for a bowl of Longevity Noodles.

Twenty minutes left. Wei Tingchun crouched by the stove, eating the steaming bowl of Longevity Noodles, then hurried back toward the servants’ courtyard where she lived.

Ten minutes left. She heard the sound of many footsteps approaching her courtyard.

After a moment’s thought, she reached up and removed the shade from a Palace Lantern in the courtyard. Facing the flickering, unprotected candle flame, she clasped her hands together and made a wish.

“May I, year after year, find happiness and peace, my work grow smoother, and soon earn a role with a partner—to experience what it feels like to have a family.”

The footsteps reached the courtyard gate. Standing on the dim stone steps, her eyes smiling, Wei Tingchun leaned forward and blew out her “birthday candle.”

“Search the place!”

“Bring everyone out!”

“Focus on finding young eunuchs… Hey, you! Come here!”

The countdown had ended. It was time for her to face death and conclude this world.

Wei Tingchun followed the group of dragged-out eunuchs and knelt at the feet of the Imperial Guards who had come to arrest them.

At their head was a stern-faced Imperial Guard commander with a thick beard. He spoke in a low, warning tone: “Who was it that delivered pastries to Consort Jia’s palace?”

“My advice—”

Before he could finish his sentence—”My advice is to confess now and spare yourselves suffering, or I’ll break your legs first”—Wei Tingchun raised her hand.

“Master, it was me.” Her voice was light and steady, without a trace of fear or hesitation.

The commander was momentarily taken aback, then waved his hand. Two Imperial Guards seized her arms like lifting a chicken, hauling her up.

Honestly, Wei Tingchun had to exert great effort not to swing playfully in their grip. Even in her past life, she had only seen parents lifting their children by the arms on TV, letting them dangle happily.

Wei Tingchun had died in her previous life without ever experiencing the warmth of a happy family of three. The two towering Imperial Guards, each over six feet tall, lifting her underdeveloped body by the arms, made her feel like a child being held by adults.

Whee!

Though she couldn’t swing freely without breaking character, being suspended mid-air and dragged along without effort was still amusing.

She was hauled before the Imperial Guard commander, her clear, autumn-water eyes meeting his fierce, authoritative gaze.

Perhaps it was because the Imperial Guard Commander had never seen such clear, unclouded eyes on anyone within the palace walls before. Or perhaps because Wei Tingchun showed no fear, refusing to cower, that the commander actually paused for a moment, his brow furrowing.

His voice boomed with oppressive force, like the strike of a temple bell: “Was it you who delivered pastries to Consort Jia’s courtyard?”

Wei Tingchun had a few more lines to deliver. She responded earnestly: “Yes, Master.”

“Who ordered you to do this?!” The Imperial Guard Commander grabbed Wei Tingchun by the collar, lifting her clean off the ground. “Who instructed you to poison the imperial consort and the young prince? Confess now, and you might suffer less. Once you enter the Criminals Tribunal, someone like you… won’t come out as a whole person anymore.”

These words were both a threat and intimidation.

But Wei Tingchun knew perfectly well in her heart—even if she named the Jade Emperor himself as her master, she wouldn’t get out of this alive. Her death was inevitable; the plot demanded it.

Time to hone those acting skills!

Upon hearing this, Wei Tingchun first took a moment to react, then looked utterly bewildered as she stammered out her line: “Master… what are you talking about?”

“Poisoning the consort and prince…?” Wei Tingchun performed her minor character’s role with utmost seriousness. The higher her system rating, the more points she’d earn.

Moreover, a high world rating would improve her chances in future lotteries for better assignments.

Truth be told, she was even considering wetting herself for effect.

“I… I just,” Wei Tingchun continued, “a palace maid asked me to deliver the pastries for her…”

“This can’t be… this can’t be…” As she delivered her lines, she was supposed to tremble here—though that wasn’t necessary, as she’d been shivering continuously from the cold in her thin clothes anyway.

Far more convincing than fake trembling.

When this world concluded, she’d make sure to have the system save clips of her brilliant acting during review—maybe even earn a high-star rating!

“Hmph.” Seeing Wei Tingchun’s performance, the commander assumed she was playing dumb to evade blame.

He didn’t expect to uncover the mastermind so easily anyway. These servants were nothing but dogs of various palaces—if a dog betrayed its master too readily, he wouldn’t trust its words either.

He wasn’t worried about this little eunuch’s stubbornness. Once in the Criminals Tribunal, even a real dog would learn to speak human language after going through the torture devices.

With a cold, superior sneer, he dismissed any further conversation with Wei Tingchun.

He signaled two Imperial Guards to drag Wei Tingchun toward the Criminals Tribunal.

Along the way, Wei Tingchun reconsidered the urination idea but ultimately decided against it—too cold in winter, too messy. While it would enhance the dramatic effect and better suit her character…

She couldn’t overcome her mental block, nor did she want to trouble whoever would collect her corpse later.

From the servants’ quarters to the Criminals Tribunal, Wei Tingchun swung like a pendulum between the two guards.

She had to admit—these men had impressively sturdy arms, though their grip was a bit too firm. Wei Tingchun suspected bruises were already forming where they held her.

The Criminals Tribunal occupied the southernmost corner of the inner palace, nearest to the Cold Palace.

During their recent explorations, Chunxi had specifically warned Wei Tingchun to avoid the tribunal’s vicinity—those crumbling palace buildings nearby were the Cold Palace, where disgraced concubines and servants were imprisoned.

The occasional wails and screams emanating from the Criminals Tribunal served as a deterrent to the condemned in the Cold Palace. The place was so inauspicious that even palace servants avoided it, except for those specifically assigned there, fearing they might be dragged in to suffer one day.

Chunxi also mentioned that those who entered the Criminals Tribunal and came out were hardly considered human anymore.

This aligned with what the Imperial Guard commander who arrested her had said.

But Wei Tingchun wasn’t afraid. When she was still two hundred meters away from the Criminals Tribunal, she saw its heavy stone gate, solemn and imposing, and immediately activated the pain-blocking function through her system.

All physical sensations vanished instantly.

True to form, the Imperial Guard commander dragged Wei Tingchun straight into the Criminals Tribunal without further questioning, instructing the executioners to begin her torture immediately.

Wei Tingchun couldn’t identify the specific methods—one involved fingernails, another her scalp. Her only task now was to scream, making her cries as convincing as possible.

She even found her own shrieks too grating and eventually blocked her hearing as well.

After the ordeal, the bearded Imperial Guard commander yanked her up by her bloodied scalp for interrogation.

“Tell us who sent you now, and you might still have a chance to live.”

Wei Tingchun, finding it troublesome, didn’t even bother to unblock her hearing. She only saw the commander’s lips moving, unable to hear his words, but she knew it must be scripted dialogue.

So she responded, “It was… a palace maid, with thin eyelids and a narrow face. She didn’t tell me who she was or which palace she served… Please believe me, I truly didn’t poison the noble lady or the prince.”

After delivering her lines, she fixed her tearful yet strikingly clear eyes on the commander, filled with pleading.

He frowned again.

Those subjected to torture usually became hysterical, their pleas incoherent, and losing control of their bodily functions was common.

He glanced down at Wei Tingchun’s lower half.

Wei Tingchun: “…How rude.”

What followed was a cycle of torture, scripted dialogue, more torture, and more dialogue.

Until someone reported that this young eunuch had recently entered the palace from outside and worked in the Catering Division. He was Eunuch Ruyi’s “adopted son.”

Eunuch Ruyi had already sent word, so the Imperial Guard commander halted the torture, and Wei Tingchun was temporarily imprisoned.

Thanks to her blocked sensations, she managed to sleep soundly in her cell, though the stench of blood was overwhelming. The floor of this long-used prison bore a rust-red hue, stained with years of blood that refused to wash away—silent testimony to the countless innocent condemned who had suffered here.

The Criminals Tribunal was lit by numerous lamps, yet for some reason, their light failed to dispel the hellish darkness of the cells.

But this didn’t hinder Wei Tingchun’s mental activities. Inside her system space, she was watching variety shows.

Her latest obsession from her previous world—a talented singer and dancer with fair skin, quite pleasing to the eye.

She had saved several of his shows, and this waiting-to-die period was the perfect time to catch up.

While Wei Tingchun lounged comfortably in the Criminals Tribunal, unbeknownst to her, the palace outside was in turmoil, teetering on the edge of chaos.

Consort Jia, who had lost her child, was indeed the emperor’s recent favorite. Deliberately poisoning a royal heir was no small matter—it could escalate into a crisis of state.

Thus, the emperor’s wrath would leave countless corpses in its wake.

All the attendants and maidservants around Consort Jia, both inside and outside, were beaten to death in the side hall. Their wails echoed through the palace—intentionally left un-muffled—to soothe Consort Jia’s grief over losing her child and to serve as a warning to others.

After investigating all night, the origin of those pastries remained untraceable. By dawn, every lead had dried up. Even Wei Tingchun’s background was uncovered, but it was clear she had been used as a pawn.

In the end, just as in the original plot, the Emperor waved his hand and decreed that all servants involved be hanged.  

The Catering Division was severely penalized with a month’s withheld wages. Eunuch Ruyi, who had brought Wei Tingchun into the palace, was demoted to the Cold Palace.  

Consort Jia, who had fainted from weeping multiple times, was lavished with gold, silver, and medicinal herbs. With that, the matter was considered settled.  

Wei Tingchun was hanged on the morning of the third day.  

In this world, hanging was carried out using a bowstring for strangulation. Thanks to the system’s pain-blocking feature, death held no suffering for Wei Tingchun, allowing her to smoothly exit the current world.  

The moment her soul left her body, the system’s evaluation screen popped up—  

[Current role attributes rated: C.]  

[Script and dialogue difficulty: C.]  

[Plot completion rate: 100%.]  

[Role depth: B (one OOC penalty incurred).]  

[Points earned from this roleplay: 3,600.]  

[Current host points: 23,600.]  

[Points remaining until protagonist evolution in minor world: 976,400. Keep striving, host!]  

[Friendly reminder: Immersive death experience doubles points!]  

Wei Tingchun clicked her tongue, her soul hovering midair. She still felt she should have wet herself. If she had, her role depth might have reached A, bumping her up a tier—worth an extra 300 points!  

She didn’t regret the OOC moment when she’d given that little ice-block prince a cup of hot tea.  

Before exiting the world, Wei Tingchun took one last look at her corpse. Well, let’s just say death wasn’t pretty.  

Unaware that her spirit lingered nearby, the executioner also stared at Wei Tingchun’s body.  

The executioner was none other than the Imperial Guard commander whom Wei Tingchun had privately nicknamed “Big Beard”—Chen Yan.  

He had killed countless people in his life, but this was the first time he felt like a villain for obeying an order to strangle a young eunuch.  

He had already uncovered that this eunuch had little to do with the incident. His spies had even traced the mastermind behind it all, identifying the culprit’s palace based solely on the eunuch’s description: “thin eyelids, narrow face.”  

But he wouldn’t report this to the Emperor. As commander of the Imperial Guards, responsible for the palace’s security and the Emperor’s safety, he couldn’t maintain his own intelligence network—or at least, he couldn’t know more than the Emperor’s Shadow Guards.  

This young eunuch had once been the son of a wealthy family, implicated in a rebellion that led to his entire clan’s exile. Through connections, he had managed to undergo castration and enter the palace.  

Yet before he could shed his naive innocence, the palace’s devouring maw had consumed him.  

Servants didn’t even need concrete charges—a mere “failure to protect one’s master” was an unforgivable capital offense. In this world, the hierarchy of human worth was predetermined from birth.  

Chen Yan had chosen to carry out the execution himself, not just because the Emperor had ordered it. In the end, it made no difference who pulled the bowstring.

But he still came in person, because the clear and bright eyes of this little eunuch reminded Chen Yan of his younger brother who had died many years ago.

His younger brother had been sold into servitude as a household laborer when he joined the army and could no longer care for him, after their parents had passed away with no relatives to turn to.

He had thought that once he earned some military merit on the battlefield and saved up a little money, he would come back to redeem him.

He planned to take his younger brother under his wing once the boy grew a little older.

But fate was utterly merciless. That child, who also had such bright and clear eyes, who had earnestly promised to be good and wait for him to come back—had been beaten to death for failing to protect his master.

Chen Yan stared fixedly at the little eunuch he had personally strangled, loosening the bloodstained bowstring. The ripple of emotion in his heart quickly subsided.

With a *thud*, the bow fell to the ground, splattering a few drops of blood that stained the hem of Chen Yan’s Imperial Guard robe.

Finally, he covered the dead boy’s wide, lifeless eyes with his large palm and closed the lids.

Meanwhile, unaware that someone had mourned and been moved by her death, Wei Tingchun returned to the system space and immediately took a vacation. She planned to enjoy her weekly break first before anything else.

Although the system space offered a five-day workweek with weekends and holidays, the transmigrators were increasingly competitive—especially those who played protagonists, hopping from one world to another without rest.

Wei Tingchun was different. She had no grand ambitions or dreams of dominating any world, nor did she want to live in one world for too long.

She just wanted to coast through life. The points she earned from playing minor roles were enough to cover her basic needs in the system space and pay for the cheapest rental housing there.

As for the ever-upgrading mansions, luxury cars, retirement paradises, and perfect companions advertised in the system space, Wei Tingchun had zero interest.

She felt she was already living a retired life.

So she rested until she couldn’t rest anymore, then finally went back to the cannon-fodder lottery machine in the system space to draw her next role.

A transmigration dispatcher, who looked like every modern world’s strict school dean, saw her bypassing the option to choose better roles based on her accumulated points and instead opting for the lottery. He couldn’t help but say, “You’ve already completed four or five missions—don’t you want to be a protagonist? The whole world would revolve around you.”

This was the system space’s perennial motivational slogan, designed to push newcomers to work themselves to the bone.

Wei Tingchun shook her head like a rattle drum, refusing to fall for it.

“I think cannon fodder is just fine. It’s like traveling, haha!” Ignoring the advice, she spun the wheel for her next world.

There’s always a kind of person in this world who, whether alive or dead, has no grand ambitions. They live simply for the sake of living, perhaps never accomplishing anything earth-shattering in their entire lives.

But in the roles they can handle, they shine with dedication—or, well, laze around without a care for advancement.

Even the dean-like dispatcher’s slogan of “Let the whole world revolve around you” couldn’t sway Wei Tingchun in the slightest.

Living this simple yet thrilling life, like opening blind boxes, she blinked—and a decade had already passed in the system space.

In the tenth year, Wei Tingchun remained the same—never missing a single day off, taking sick leave, personal leave, and every other kind of vacation under the sun. Every time she transmigrated, it was through a lottery draw.  

The transmigration dispatcher no longer even bothered to persuade her when they met. She had never encountered a soul with such “unwavering” determination.  

Because Wei Tingchun transmigrated so frequently, they saw each other often. From initial bewilderment to eventual acceptance, they gradually exchanged a few words here and there.  

The dispatcher, forever clad in a professional skirt suit and black-framed glasses, adjusted her spectacles and asked, “Looks like your February vacation is over. Another lottery draw?”  

Wei Tingchun gave her a reserved smile and nodded. “Thanks, Sis Lang.”  

The dispatcher waved her hand and whispered, “Any world you’d like to go to?”  

Wei Tingchun shook her head.  

Over the years, she had been everywhere. There was nowhere she particularly wanted to go—she’d leave it to fate.  

The lottery draw ended quickly.  

For who-knows-how-many times, Wei Tingchun drew an ancient world—the Great Qian Dynasty.  

She was long past feeling surprised. Without hesitation, she began her transmigration.