Su Wanyan sat quietly on the sofa, hands folded in her lap, the soft hum of the crew's setup filling the room. Lights adjusted with faint clicks, cables rustled across the floor, and murmured instructions floated in the background. She nodded politely whenever someone glanced her way, but her attention had narrowed to the strange translucent window hovering in the center of her vision.
Pale blue light outlined crisp white text.
No one else reacted. The cameraman adjusting his lens didn't flinch. The sound technician testing levels kept his eyes on his equipment. It was for her alone.
Hello, she thought back, tentative.
The text brightened, almost bouncing.
Serena?
Su Wanyan blinked. The name felt like a pebble dropped into still water—wrong, foreign. She glanced around again, making sure no one could see her confusion.
System, she thought carefully. I'm not Serena.
The window froze. A single dot appeared, then vanished, then reappeared—like a held breath.
<...>
She could almost feel the embarrassment radiating from it.
No, she answered, keeping her expression neutral.
The interface flooded with text, letters tumbling over one another in a frantic rush.
The apologetic flurry faded into a soft sparkle, and the greeting window dissolved. In its place, faint icons appeared at the edges of her vision: a small silhouette of her own face on the left, and on the right, a tiny backpack pulsing gently.
Su Wanyan exhaled slowly. A system. An actual system. And it had just apologized and fled.
Her gaze drifted to the backpack icon. How do I..?
"Open," she whispered under her breath. Nothing.
"Backpack?" Still nothing.
"Inventory," she tried, barely moving her lips.
The window expanded smoothly, filling her view with neat rows of items on a soft parchment-like background. Her breath caught.
Ten small glass vials glowed faintly in the first slot—delicate crystal with swirling rose-gold liquid inside. Below the stack, a number read ×10.
Next to them, six golden tickets shimmered, edges etched with intricate patterns. ×6.
She focused on the vials. A description unfolded like silk.
{Perfect Foundation Potion
Type: Consumable (Potion)
Rarity: Very Rare
Use Limit: Once per individual
Effects (Immediate & Permanent):
Strength: Increased
Agility: Increased
Endurance: Increased
Vitality: Increased
Perception: Sharpened
Dexterity: Improved
Farming Efficiency: Increased
Hunting Efficiency: Increased
Labor Efficiency: Increased
Balance & Grip: Enhanced
Breath Capacity: Enhanced
Environmental Resistance: Improved (heat, cold, minor toxins)
Focus: Improved
Memory Retention: Improved
Willpower: Strengthened
Appearance: Naturally enhanced (beauty, skin health)
Posture: Corrected}
Su Wanyan stared. Ten permanent stat-boosting potions that also made you prettier and better at… farming? For free? Because a system had the wrong name?
She almost laughed out loud. This was absurd. Generous, broken-level absurd.
The urge to try one right then and there tugged at her, strong and insistent. But cameras were everywhere, even if they weren't rolling yet {Ohoho, if only you knew}.
She glanced up. A young staff member was adjusting a light stand nearby, close enough to ask.
"Excuse me," Su Wanyan said softly, offering a small smile.
The woman turned—and visibly paused, cheeks warming under the gentle impact of that smile. "Yes?"
"I made some fresh juice earlier and left it in the fridge to chill. I was wondering if it would be all right to grab a quick sip? It should be perfect about now."
Her voice carried genuine excitement, eyes bright with what looked like simple anticipation. The staff member melted a little.
"Of course! We're still setting up—you didn't even need to ask."
"Thank you so much."
Su Wanyan rose gracefully and walked toward the open kitchen, steps light, heartbeat quicker than usual. The crew's eyes followed her for a moment, then returned to their tasks.
At the fridge, she opened the door and pretended to scan the shelves. The main camera was angled toward the living area; no lens pointed directly here. A quick glance confirmed no one was watching closely.
She focused on the inventory again. Take out one Perfect Foundation Potion.
A cool weight settled into her palm. The vial materialized seamlessly, hidden behind the fridge door. Rose-gold liquid caught the light inside the glass, swirling lazily.
No one noticed.
She uncorked it with a soft pop, brought it to her lips, and drank.