CONSORT YUE IS GETTING SPOILED AGAIN

EPISODE 1

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.