There are certain universal truths in life: dumplings are always better fried, a girl should never trust a man who doesn't laugh at fart jokes, and enchanted lingerie should never be left unattended in a palace with over 300 idle concubines and only three functioning security spells.
Lin Yue, now officially the Charm Chancellor, awoke to a royal emergency.
Not a war. Not a famine. Not even a scandalous midnight duel fought in silk pajamas. No. The tragedy at hand was far more unholy.
Someone had stolen the Royal Lingerie Codex.
Not just any underthings, mind you—these were magical. Blessed by the Moon Maidens, embroidered with seduction runes, and rumored to make the wearer irresistibly confident (or at least give them perfect posture and dramatically wind-swept hair in every entrance).
Lin Yue rolled over in bed, blinked at the scroll fluttering over her head, and sighed. "What fresh nonsense is this?"
Su Ya, already in combat heels and murder-ready eyeliner, stood at the edge of the bed. "It's gone. The whole collection. Corsets of Persuasion, Pantaloons of Power, and even the forbidden Push-Up of Prophecy."
"You made that last one up."
"I did," Su Ya said, "but we should invent it."
Prince Li Xian peeked in, shirtless and confused. "Did someone die?"
"No," Lin Yue groaned, pulling a pillow over her face, "but someone's definitely getting murdered."
By the time she staggered into the Situation Chamber (which used to be the Music Room until Lin Yue had too many dramatic meetings to hold), everyone was already in a panic.
Yun was clutching a teacup like it owed her money.
Mistress Killsalot was polishing a curved dagger and humming something disturbingly cheerful.
Even Grand Lord Shou was there, glowering with the moral superiority of a man who hadn't worn underwear since the reign of the previous dynasty.
Lin Yue took one look at the scene and declared, "This has Mistress Orchid written all over it."
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
Mistress Orchid: courtesan-turned-warlord, known for seducing half the Northern Territories and launching a rebellion using only perfume and sarcasm. She was exiled years ago, but Lin Yue had a feeling she was back—and looking to spice up her wardrobe.
"How do we stop her?" Yun asked.
"We don't stop her," Lin Yue said, already plotting, "we out-seduce her."
Su Ya leaned in. "A seduction-off?"
Lin Yue nodded. "A full-blown, lingerie-fueled, magically-enhanced seduction showdown."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Then Mistress Killsalot clapped. "Finally, some real diplomacy."
---
Three days later, Lin Yue and her entourage were standing in front of the Fortress of Forbidden Frills.
"Yes," Lin Yue confirmed, "that is what the sign says. No, I don't know why it sparkles."
Mistress Orchid had clearly upgraded since her exile. The fortress shimmered like a brothel had married a cathedral and then both got possessed by a glitter demon.
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Prince Li Xian asked.
"Because she stole our magical panties," Su Ya replied flatly.
"And because," Lin Yue added, adjusting her cleavage-optimizing battle robe, "we're sending a message. You do not mess with the empire's sacred underthings."
Inside, the air smelled like roses and ego.
Mistress Orchid awaited them on a chaise longue that had no right being that luxurious. She wore a gown stitched from rumor and scandal. Her eyes were smoky, her lips sharper than policy.
"Well, well," she purred. "If it isn't the Empire's favorite scandal on legs."
Lin Yue smiled sweetly. "Mistress Orchid. Still naming yourself after flowers you've clearly never watered, I see."
Orchid stood. The lingerie codex lay open beside her, glowing faintly with perversion and silk.
"You want them back?" she asked. "Beat me. In the Trials of Allure."
Lin Yue blinked. "That's not a thing."
"It is now."
And just like that, they were swept into a room filled with judges (disgraced nobles and scandal writers), categories ("Best Smirk," "Most Implied Nudity," "Strategic Use of Wind"), and magical lighting effects that seemed both horny and judgmental.
"I was born for this," Lin Yue whispered.
She wasn't wrong.
She won Best Smirk by smirking at a mirror until it cracked from sheer intimidation.
She won Strategic Use of Wind by summoning a breeze so dramatic her sash did a full Shakespearean monologue.
And she nearly lost Most Implied Nudity until Su Ya "accidentally" spilled tea on her top.
In the final round—The Witty Rebuttal Duel—Lin Yue faced Orchid word for word.
"Seduction," Orchid said, "is about control."
"No," Lin Yue replied, twirling, "it's about connection. The ability to say 'I see you'... while making them want to get naked anyway."
Judges cried. Someone fainted. A ghost of a long-dead poet rose from the floor, clutched his chest, and ascended.
Orchid bowed. "Fine. You win. Take your enchanted drawers and go."
Lin Yue snatched the codex and curtsied. "And remember: next time you want to feel powerful, try honesty. Or heels."
They left the fortress to the sound of moody violins and a thunderstorm that absolutely hadn't been scheduled.
Back in the palace, Lin Yue locked the codex in a spell-safe box and flopped onto her bed.
"I'm exhausted," she said. "Tell the empire I'm unavailable unless it's on fire. Or unless someone brings dumplings."
Prince Li Xian wandered in with a platter. "What if it's dumplings and fire?"
"Then I marry you twice."
Lin Yue awoke the next morning in a puddle of silk, dumpling crumbs, and questionable decisions.
A scroll lay on her chest.
It glittered ominously. Glitter had never brought her good news.
Su Ya leaned in, eyes narrowed. "It's cursed."
"How can you tell?"
Su Ya tapped the shimmering paper. "The last time something sparkled like this, it turned a eunuch into a goose."
Lin Yue yawned and cracked her neck. "I'm opening it."
Yun gasped. "No! We haven't even done the protective rituals—"
Crackle-pop!
The scroll unrolled itself mid-air with a flourish, emitting a faint giggle and a puff of lavender smoke. The script was florid and slightly smug.
> "To Her High Scandalness, Charm Chancellor Lin Yue—"
I am your greatest admirer. Also possibly your soul-bound nemesis. Who can say, really? Our fates are entangled like cheap hairpins in a palace pillow fight. I adore your sass. Your strategy. Your thighs. Please find enclosed a small token of my obsession—er, appreciation.
Yours eternally,
The Clingy Conqueror (™ pending)
Yun shrieked.
Prince Li Xian looked up from brushing his hair. "Did he just trademark his nickname?"
But Lin Yue was focused on the "token."
Because it was moving.
A box hovered nearby, wobbling slightly. A faint cooing noise came from within, somewhere between seductive and unholy.
"Don't open it," Su Ya warned.
Lin Yue opened it.
Out floated the ugliest—and most enchanted—lingerie she had ever seen. It was made of shadow-silk, shimmered like gossip in moonlight, and had absolutely no concept of structural support.
It also moaned when she touched it.
"Sweet gods," Su Ya muttered, poking it with a chopstick. "It's sentient."
Yun was reading the curse description. "It bonds to the wearer until the true object of their desire confesses mutual love."
Prince Li Xian blinked. "What happens if they don't?"
"Eternal wedgie," Yun whispered.
The cursed lingerie leapt onto Lin Yue like a vengeful spider.
"Oh no," she growled, struggling as it wrapped itself lovingly around her hips. "I am not spending the next week fused to a demon thong."
"What if you just confess your feelings?" Yun offered.
Lin Yue froze. "Absolutely not. I do not have feelings."
Prince Li Xian raised a brow. "You declared you'd marry me over dumplings last night."
"That was a metaphor."
"You kissed me under a firework shaped like your own initials."
"I was being patriotic!"
She turned to Su Ya. "We need a ritual. Something intense. Sexy. Possibly dangerous."
Su Ya grinned. "Ritual of Cleansing Desire. It involves hot springs and dangerous incantations… and also cucumbers. Don't ask."
---
Two hours later, Lin Yue was submerged up to her neck in enchanted water, glowing softly like a divine cocktail.
Yun sat on the edge of the spring, reading from a scroll. "You must confront your hidden feelings. Bring them into the light. Or at least the steam."
Su Ya was drawing summoning circles with something that looked suspiciously like lipstick.
Prince Li Xian? He was shirtless again. Because of course he was.
"I'm not confessing," Lin Yue insisted.
"You don't have to," Yun said. "Just process your emotional constipation."
"I don't have emotions. I have sarcasm and caffeine."
"Say what you feel!" Su Ya cried, as the springs began to bubble ominously.
Lin Yue stood, drenched and furious. "Fine! I feel... annoyed. I feel sexy. I feel like I deserve a break and someone else can seduce peace treaties for once!"
Nothing happened.
Yun sighed. "Be vulnerable."
"I am literally half-naked in cursed water. What more do you want?!"
The lingerie pulsed.
And then—because the universe loves drama—the Clingy Conqueror appeared in a swirl of narcissistic mist.
He wore armor made of questionable poetry and hair that glowed like a freshly waxed ego.
"You came," he declared.
"Of course you did," Lin Yue muttered.
"I bring flowers," he said, offering a bouquet that immediately burst into flames.
"I bring my heart," he continued, dramatically unbuttoning his shirt.
"I bring—"
Lin Yue blasted him into the next district with a pulse of sass-magic.
"I bring restraining orders," she snapped.
The cursed lingerie, however, sighed fondly.
It wanted drama. Romance. Resolution.
Lin Yue turned to Li Xian, who was now holding a towel and looking very long-sufferingly princely.
"I'm not in love with you," she said.
He tilted his head. "But?"
"I like your face. I enjoy your dumb jokes. I would probably ride into battle topless if you asked nicely."
The lingerie shivered.
"I also trust you," she continued, "and think about you more than is strictly necessary. Which means—dammit—yes, I like you."
The lingerie sang.
Yun screamed.
A beam of rainbow light shot from Lin Yue's chest. The cursed lingerie dissolved into sparkles, sighing with cosmic satisfaction.
Everyone blinked.
Li Xian grinned. "So... does that count as a confession?"
"Don't push it," Lin Yue said.
But she was smiling.
Su Ya popped a bottle of celebratory sake.
Yun muttered, "Thank the gods, now we can cancel the Emergency Love Triangulation Ceremony."
"Wait," Lin Yue said. "You scheduled that?"
"Twice."
---
Later, back in her chambers, Lin Yue opened a fresh scroll.
It was fan mail. From a teenage girl in the outer provinces.
> "Dear Lady Yue, I want to be like you. Brave. Beautiful. Maybe also terrifying. How do I learn to love myself when my whole village thinks I'm weird?"
Lin Yue stared at the words.
She picked up a brush and wrote back.
> "Dear Trouble-in-Training, first: being weird is a compliment. Second: learn to walk like you own the palace, even if you trip. Third: only take advice from people who make you laugh or blush. And finally? You already are terrifying. You just haven't weaponized it yet. Love, Lin Yue."
She sealed the scroll with a kiss-shaped stamp and smiled.
"Time for a festival," she whispered. "Let's give every woman in the empire a makeover... of the soul."
The festival planning began with one innocent comment:
"I think we should host a Kingdom-Wide Self-Love Summit," Lin Yue said, sipping tea brewed from confidence and mild contempt.
Yun dropped his quill. "You want to hold a festival. About loving... yourself?"
"Yes," she grinned. "But, you know, metaphorically. Though I wouldn't stop anyone from literal exploration."
Su Ya nodded solemnly. "We'll need glitter. And fire."
And so it began—the first Imperial Festival of Confidence, Sass, and Questionable Wardrobe Choices.
Flyers were enchanted to flutter through the sky, cooing inspirational slogans like "Your beauty terrifies lesser nobles!" and "Slay, don't obey!"
Tailors were threatened (gently) into donating scandalously magical fashion. Enchanters crafted self-esteem-boosting accessories—earrings that whispered compliments, bras that growled at haters, and boots that stomped on internalized misogyny.
Even Prince Li Xian got involved, teaching "Royal Flirtation Tactics 101" to awkward teens and blushing guards.
But not everyone was thrilled.
At a secret anti-sass council, Grand Lord Shou banged his gavel.
"This festival undermines tradition."
"She threatened to curse my wig into a family of raccoons," mumbled one minister.
"She offered me enchanted nipple tassels," another whispered, eyes hollow.
"She said I'd look hotter with eyeliner. I… I do," sobbed the tax minister.
Shou stood. "Enough. We must stop her."
Meanwhile, Lin Yue was choreographing a magical catwalk show on the Moon Bridge. The theme? "Weapons of Mass Seduction."
Yun was her reluctant emcee.
"Next up, we have Lady Sun Bao—showing off the new Battle Bra of Blazing Confidence! Now with hidden shuriken pockets and passive-aggressive aura defense!"
Applause.
Lady Sun Bao winked and flexed.
The festival was a chaotic masterpiece of liberation and lightly cursed beauty enhancements. Street vendors sold self-love scrolls, confidence dumplings, and enchanted eye shadow palettes called "Divine Smolder."
Children wore stickers that said "Future Dangerously Hot Adult."
Lin Yue, dressed in crimson silks that told suggestive stories with each fold, raised her fan and declared, "Let this empire learn: Power isn't just in swords. It's in hips. In lipstick. In how loud you laugh while society begs you to shrink."
A magical echo carried her words across the city.
But danger loomed.
The Clingy Conqueror returned—this time shirtless and on a flying horse made of sculpted compliments. He held a cursed mirror.
"Behold," he said. "The Reflection of Regret! One glance, and all your insecurities come back—doubled and in HD!"
He aimed it at Lin Yue.
She blinked into it.
Then laughed.
"Sweetheart, I carry my regrets in a jeweled handbag and sass through them daily."
The mirror cracked.
"Also," she added, "you should've moisturized before this attack. Your cheekbones look stressed."
The Clingy Conqueror screamed, fell off his compliment horse, and landed in a vat of body glitter. He emerged shinier, and less emotionally stable.
Prince Li Xian dragged him away for "urgent therapy via interpretive dance."
Yun approached Lin Yue. "You defeated a magical narcissist with verbal self-esteem."
Lin Yue sighed. "It's exhausting being this legendary."
Su Ya flopped beside her. "How does it feel? Being a symbol of freedom and cheekbones?"
Lin Yue smiled. "Feels like I finally look in the mirror and wink instead of flinch."
Yun sniffled.
"Are you crying?" she teased.
"No! Just allergic to empowerment."
That night, under fireworks and flying love notes, Lin Yue watched hundreds of girls, women, and even battle-hardened generals strut their stuff across the Moon Bridge.
They wore confidence like armor. Laughter like war drums. And maybe, just maybe, demon lingerie beneath.
She toasted the moon.
"To softness as strength. To scandal as strategy. And to never letting a cursed underwear define your worth again."