Chapter 2 - The System Appears for the First Time

 "Prince Si! The Queen Mother has ordered you not to step beyond this side courtyard—how dare you try to escape? It seems we must teach you a lesson, or you'll never learn the rules!" A shrill voice, as if squeezed through a tight throat, jolted Zhong Li awake from his daze. His head throbbed violently. When he slowly opened his eyes, the sight froze him: several men in cyan palace robes surrounded a 16-year-old boy, punching and kicking him. They were pale, beardless, and slender, their faces twisted with flattery and malice. The boy wore a faded brocade robe stained with mud, yet nobility still clung to him. Pinned to the ground, he held his head high stubbornly, fists clenched so tight his veins bulged and knuckles whitened. His cheeks flushed crimson, jaw set like a trapped young beast, his eyes blazing with resentment and rage. "You lowly servants—how dare you touch me!" The boy's voice, clear and youthful, trembled with fury. "Lowly servants?" The eunuch who spoke earlier sneered, stepping forward to press his foot on the boy's hand. "Prince Si, the Queen Mother holds power now. Your mother Zhao Ji is just a discarded concubine—do you really think you matter?" He turned to Zhong Li, tone sharp: "Zhong Li, what are you gawking at? Hurry—splash that porridge on him! Have you forgotten why we're here?" Before Zhong Li could react, the eunuch shoved him hard. He stumbled, and the bowl of sour porridge in his hand spilled all over the boy. Spoiled rice and scraps stuck to the brocade, reeking. "Good lad—smart of you!" The eunuch clapped Zhong Li's shoulder, laughing. "First errand and you're already quick. Stick with me, and you'll get rewards!" Zhong Li stared at the empty bowl, then the boy's soiled robe. His heart raced—where was he? Who were these people? "Prince Si," "Queen Mother," "Zhao Ji"—why did these names sound familiar? He glanced around: a dilapidated courtyard with chipped walls, rotting wood in the corner, weeds between stone slabs, and holes in the window paper fluttering in the wind. This was exactly a scene from *The Last Tyrant*, the novel he'd read before bed! He suddenly recalled: the novel's protagonist was Ying Zheng, Prince Si. After his mother Zhao Ji fell out of favor, the Queen Mother confined him here, letting eunuchs torment him. And there was a powerful eunuch named Zhong Li—just like him—who started by bullying Ying Zheng, climbed to power, but was later tortured to death by the ascended Ying Zheng: stripped, paraded, limbs cut off, thrown into a swill bucket, then hanged to bleed out, his corpse eaten by wild dogs. At the thought of that horror, Zhong Li shivered, hair standing on end. Had he transmigrated? And into this doomed cannon-fodder eunuch? "Get out! All of you!" The boy roared, humiliated and enraged. He tried to stand, but the eunuchs pressed him down again. "Be obedient, Prince Si," the lead eunuch sneered. "Else your mother Zhao Ji will suffer worse in the palace." He led the group away, glaring at Zhong Li: "Stay here, watch him—don't let him run." Silence fell, leaving only Zhong Li and the boy. Zhong Li swallowed, knelt, and reached out gently: "Your Highness, I didn't mean to. Let me help you up—find clean clothes?" The boy snapped his head up. His dark, slanted phoenix eyes fixed on Zhong Li, murderous intent like ice picks making Zhong Li pull back. "Get out," the boy's voice was icy. "Save your fakeness—you're no different from them, a sycophantic dog!" Zhong Li's heart tightened. He knew Ying Zheng hated "Zhong Li" now, but he couldn't leave—else he'd repeat the novel's fate. He took a breath, reached out again: "Your Highness, I was forced. I'm just a lowly eunuch—I dare not harm you." Ying Zheng knocked his hand away and struggled up. Zhong Li saw his right ankle was badly swollen—sprained during the beating. Before Zhong Li could speak, Ying Zheng limped toward the house, back straight yet lonely. Zhong Li followed. Inside was worse: dusty furniture, cobwebs in corners. Ying Zheng sat, trying to remove the soiled robe, but his ankle made him clumsy. "Let me help," Zhong Li said softly. Ying Zheng glared, but didn't refuse. Zhong Li helped him change into a clean linen robe, then offered: "Your ankle's sprained—I'll boil hot water. Soaking will ease the pain." He fetched water from the well behind the courtyard (icy water sobering him), added firewood to the stove, and thought: *I must make Ying Zheng trust me—else I'll die horribly.* When he returned with hot water, he froze: Ying Zheng was wiping his body with cold water, purple bruises on his arms. "Your Highness, why cold water?" Zhong Li hurried over. "You'll catch cold!" Ying Zheng looked up, mocking: "How do I know you weren't calling for help? If you came back with others to bully me, I'd be worse off." Zhong Li forced a smile: "The water's hot. If you don't trust me, I'll wait outside. Call me when you're done." Ying Zheng said nothing, just walked into the bathroom. Zhong Li waited, anxious: *Can I change my fate? Survive here?* Later, Ying Zheng emerged, hair damp. "Clean the courtyard," he said flatly. "Leave when done." Zhong Li agreed, grabbing a broom. The sun scorched him, sweat drying instantly. His back ached, but he didn't stop—this was his first step to trust. Ying Zheng sat under the eaves, watching. This eunuch was different: no flattery, no malice, just clumsy earnestness. The mockery in his eyes faded, replaced by complexity. When the sun set, Zhong Li finished. He held his waist, hoarse: "Your Highness, it's clean. May I leave?" It was his first time calling himself "this servant"—humiliating, but necessary for survival. Ying Zheng stared at his flushed, sweaty face, then said slowly: "Let today go. From now on… don't help those men bully me." Zhong Li's heart leaped: "Yes, Your Highness—I won't." He turned to leave, relieved—until a cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind: "[Warning! Host has deviated from the plot! Adjust immediately!]" Zhong Li froze, looking around. "Who's there?" "[Greetings, Host. I am the 'Save the Poor Cannon-Fodder' System, in your mind. Communicate with thoughts.]" The voice was mechanically sweet. "[My mission: help you escape your cannon-fodder fate—even become the protagonist!]" A system? His transmigration cheat? "What do you mean 'escape fate'?" "[Complete missions.]" The system urged. "[First mission: Gain Ying Zheng's trust and help him ascend the throne. Rewards include… restoring your male body.]" Restore his body? Zhong Li's heart ached—he was an eunuch now. "What if I refuse?" "[Punishment triggered.]" The system turned cold. "[First punishment: Level 10 pain for 3 minutes. Start now!]" A searing pain erupted from his insides, like thousands of needles. Zhong Li groaned, collapsing to his knees, clutching his abdomen, nails digging into the ground until they bled. Ying Zheng rushed over, frowning: "What's wrong?" Zhong Li couldn't speak. His vision blurred, then he blacked out, falling at Ying Zheng's feet.