The scene shows where everything is in ruins.

The palace, people's houses and everything burning in the fire. The smoke filling the whole sky which make it seem everything dark.

Dead bodies everywhere, young child, teenagers, woman, men, guards, eunuch, elderly people's bodies scattered. Their bodies and limbs cut off while some were burnt due to the fire. The smell of the blood filling the air and mingling with the smoke.

The white moonlight shining brightly but almost covered cause of the smokes.

While at the centere stood a man.

His hair was white. The pale, ghostly white of moonlight—long strands spilling freely down his back, whipped by the restless wind. Each movement sent those silver strands drifting through the air like a banner of death.

He had a sword in his hand.

The blade was drenched. Blood dripped from its edge, sliding down the steel.

His robes were no longer their original color. Blood stains soaked the fabric, splattered across his chest, his sleeves, his face—evidence of the massacre that surrounded him.

He doesn't look tired.

He doesn't look guilty.

He looks quite pleased...with the mess he created.

His lips curved upward into a smile that had no warmth in it, a smile stretched too wide, as if madness itself had pulled the corners of his mouth apart.

His quite laughter filled the empty place.

A child, trembling and barely alive, tried to crawl away through the blood-slick stone.

The man noticed.

The child's mother: "Please let my child go, he is still a kid please I beg you"

He didn't listen to that begging woman

Slowly—almost lazily—he turned his head.

Those eyes.

They held no humanity.

Only wild, burning amusement.

The sword lifted.

For a moment the ground was silent, as if the world itself held its breath.

Then steel flashed through the air.

The sound was quick. Wet. Final.

Another body fell.

The mother gasp in shock, as if her whole world has stopped. She looked dead in his eyes and yelled.

The mother: "I HOPE YOU DIE A BRUTAL DEATH AND ROT IN HELL!!! GOD WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!!"

The man just scoffed and killed her too with one stroke.

The man stepped forward, his foot leaving red footprints behind him as he walked through the ruins of the life he had just destroyed.

He tilted his head back slightly, staring at the massacred around him like an artist admiring his masterpiece.

The wind howled, tugging violently at his loose white hair, making it dance wildly around his blood-stained face.

And he laughed again.

Softly.

Madly.

Because there was no one left to stop him.

And At that moment, standing alone among the dead, he looked less like a man…

…and more like the disaster that had just passed through the palace.

The Kingdom had gone unnaturally quiet.

No cries. No clash of steel. No desperate footsteps trying to flee.

Only the wind moved now, sweeping across the ruined palace grounds as if trying to carry away the scent of blood. The lanterns hanging along the corridor swayed gently, their dim flames flickering against the crimson-stained stone.

From the shadows beneath a broken pavilion, a young palace servant crouched, trembling violently.

Her hands covered her mouth, but the sound of her breathing still escaped in weak, shaky bursts. She had seen everything.

The slaughter.

The way the white-haired man moved through soldiers as if they were nothing more than weeds in a garden.

Her eyes lifted slowly.

He was still there.

Standing among the fallen bodies.

The sword in his hand dripped lazily onto the ground, and the smile on his face had not faded.

For a moment he simply stared into the night, as though listening to something only he could hear.

Then his head tilted slightly.

The servant’s heart stopped.

Because his gaze had turned toward the pavilion.

Toward the shadows.

Toward her.

And the smile on his blood-stained lips slowly widened.

The white-haired man, moved forward but stopped by his trusted guard,

"Bìxià, everything has been done as you said. Please take rest"

(Bìxià \= your imperial majesty)

The white haired man looked at him as nothing and proceeded to walk towards the servant.

The guard thought to himself "If only....this could be prevented..."

As he looked at the ruins. He closed his eyes with tiredness.

The chamber was quiet except for the soft crackle of the lantern flames.

Lin Yue, the princess who has come to be the emperor's new consort from her very own Kingdom due to a peace treaty done between two kingdoms is there all alone.

As she sat stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Layers of crimson wedding robes wrapped around her body, heavy and unfamiliar. Gold threads glimmered across the fabric like tiny streaks of fire.

She folded her hands together in her lap, staring at them for a long moment.

[Lin Yue's POV]

"How did I even end up here…

Just few hrs ago...I was in my home reading my favourite novel "THE BLACK JADE" and now I am inside it.

On top of that I am the main villain's 4th consort. My life is doomed before it even started."

Now she was sitting inside the imperial palace of the very novel she had once read for entertainment.

Lin Yue exhaled slowly, leaning back slightly as her thoughts spiraled.

"Traded for a peace treaty by my own parents… married to the most terrifying man in the entire novel."

"Isn't it too unfair for a newbie like me?" she pouts with disdain in her heart.

She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Before she could sink further into her thoughts, the sudden sound of footsteps echoed outside the chamber doors.

The palace maids around her immediately straightened.

Then the door slid open.

A eunuch stepped forward, his voice sharp and clear as it carried through the room.

“Bìxià has arrived.”

The words fell like a stone into still water.

The maids quickly lowered their heads.

Lin Yue stood up instinctively, her heart thumping once in her chest before she forced herself to remain calm.

Moments later, another figure stepped through the doorway.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to change instantly.

Lin Yue lowered her gaze and bowed.

“This concubine greets Your Majesty.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then a voice spoke.

Low. Calm. Indifferent.

“Rise.”

She slowly straightened.

“Leave us,” the emperor added.

The maids and attendants immediately bowed and withdrew, their footsteps fading as the chamber doors closed once again.

The room suddenly felt quieter than before.

Lin Yue finally lifted her eyes.

And saw him.

The man standing a few steps away was tall, his posture straight and unhurried, as if the entire palace naturally bent around his presence.

Even standing still, there was a natural authority about him—as if the space around him instinctively knew who ruled it. His dark imperial robes flowed heavily around his frame, embroidered with faint golden patterns.

But what truly drew her attention was his hair.

Long.

Completely white.

It fell freely down his back like strands of pale silk, the soft silver color glowing faintly beneath the warm lantern light. Unlike most nobles who wore their hair bound neatly, his remained loose, moving gently with every subtle motion he made.

It gave him an almost otherworldly presence.

Then her eyes moved to his face.

Sharp features carved with an almost unfair perfection.

Pale skin so smooth and colorless it looked nearly porcelain beneath the light.

And there—

At the center of his forehead was a small crimson mark.

The red symbol stood out strikingly against his pale skin, it was a symbol that he is the emperor.

Beautiful.

Almost divine.

If someone saw him from afar, they might think he was some celestial being descended from the heavens.

Lin Yue’s lips twitched faintly.

What a joke.

Because she knew the truth.

Behind that angelic face stood a man capable of turning an entire palace into a graveyard.

The white-haired emperor before her might look like a figure carved from moonlight—

But beneath that calm, breathtaking appearance lived something far darker.

Something monstrous.

And Lin Yue knew better than anyone else that this man…

Was an absolute devil. Emperor Zhao Wenzhe, the devil.

For a moment after her greeting, neither of them spoke.

The silence inside the chamber stretched quietly, broken only by the soft flicker of the lantern flames.

The emperor watched her.

Lin Yue could feel his gaze resting on her, steady and unreadable. It was the kind of gaze that made most people uneasy.

But she had already prepared herself.

Slowly, he moved past her and walked toward the bed. The heavy fabric of his robes brushed softly against the floor as he sat down, his movements calm and composed.

It was all quite again.

Then the emperor spoke.

ZW: "come here"

Lin Yue blinked once before walking over, the layers of her wedding robe rustling softly with each step. She stopped beside him, unsure what he intended.

He gestured lightly to the space next to him.

ZW: "sit"

She sat beside him carefully, stealing a glance at his face. Up close, the emperor seemed even more unreal than before—the pale skin, the silver hair falling freely over his shoulders, the small crimson mark on his forehead glowing faintly under the lantern light.

Lin Yue couldn't control her thoughts and said in a soft tone.

LY: "so pretty"

As she realized what she just said, she immediately put her hand on her mouth and looked at Zhao Wenzhe in shocked.

Looking at this Zhao Wenzhe just chuckled as he found it amusing.

'This is the terrifying tyrant who kills people in the novel for no reason?' she thought.

Lin Yue tilted her head slightly.

'He looks more like a lonely immortal than a monster.'

The thought made her almost laugh.

'As someone who came from modern world and who read a lot of palace dramas. One thing I know is being favored means getting killed. 2nd ignoring the emperor will make him fall in love more, so I will do opposite' LY thinks in her mind.

Well… if ignoring him would make him fall deeper in love, maybe doing the opposite would make him lose interest faster.

Perfect.

So she turned to him with a bright smile.

“Your Majesty, since we’re married now, shouldn’t we at least talk a little?”

The emperor looked at her, clearly not expecting that.

But he didn’t stop her.

Encouraged, Lin Yue began chatting cheerfully.

She told him about her moments while coming to the Kingdom and all other trivial things.

Hours passed.

LY: "ah...this consort apologises your Majesty, I just kept talking"

ZW: "it's nothing, as your husband it's my duty to listen what my wife has to say"

'Is it really the novel's villain or am I mistaken? Why is he acting like a total different person?' LY thought.

LY: “Your Majesty, it’s very late. Don’t emperors have to wake up early for court?”

Without waiting for his response, she gently tugged at his sleeve.

LY: “You should sleep.”

...Before he could react, she leaned over and blew out the nearby candles....

One by one, the flames disappeared, and the chamber slowly sank into darkness.

Lin Yue lay down beside him on the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

LY: "Goodnight, your Majesty"

Within moments, her breathing softened as she drifted toward sleep.

The chamber had grown completely quiet.

The candles had long been extinguished.

Beside him, Lin Yue breathed softly.

Peacefully.

As if she had not just fallen asleep beside the most feared man in the empire.

Zhao Wenzhe slowly opened his eyes.

The warmth that had lingered on his face earlier was gone.

The calm expression faded like mist, leaving behind something colder… sharper.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on the woman sleeping beside him. A strand of her dark hair had fallen across her cheek, her expression relaxed and unaware.

Silently, he sat up from the bed.

His movements were so light that the mattress barely shifted. Lin Yue moved slightly but did not wake up.

Zhao Wenzhe rose to his feet and walked toward the open window.

The moonlight shone his pale hair as the night wind moved softly through the room.

Without turning, he spoke quietly.

ZW: “Come out.”