Chapter 1: Assassination

Heavy snow fell, the goose-like snowflakes blinding people's eyes. A biting north wind caused countless people to curl up at home, using thick walls to block the fierce wind and snow.

Meanwhile, in contrast to the cold outside, within the grand and ornate mansion, on a red sandalwood bed adorned with carvings, crimson curtains parted halfway, revealing the tantalizing scene beneath. The sweet murmurs were audible even through the silken barrier.

"Grandpa, Grandpa, your grandson will die…"

"Is that so? Then who here is willing to die for me?"

The man's narrow, long eyes were like a fox's, carrying the wind and an alluring wickedness. His thin lips curved upwards like night-blooming opium flowers, but his eyes held not a trace of warmth or kindness.

"Willingly, son. I am your father's man."

"Haha, grandpa just loves your little face."

The man smiled, but his eyes held a hint of coldness. Lost in the revelry, he was completely oblivious, continuing to display his alluring charm.

"Master, I have something important to report!" A cold voice came from outside, indicating that this matter was extraordinary.

For a moment, the man's long and powerful fingers gently lifted the sheer curtain. He nonchalantly pulled his shirt up, leaving it open, and sat on the bed.

Long and narrow eyes held a smile, but it was so cold it made one shiver.

"Grandpa…" The young man rose, embracing him with a possessive fervor like a succubus winding around his waist. He smiled slyly, following the man's gaze to the black figure kneeling on the ground.

"Well then, what is it?"

The man was hugging someone, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at the person's back, but his eyes were fixed on the black man.

"Sir, the target is lost. My subordinates have searched that area thoroughly but found nothing."

"What did you say!"

The man's originally gentle smile vanished, replaced by a cold expression. He threw the person on top of him aside, sending them tumbling to the ground with no warning. They nearly fainted from the impact but, sensing the man's murderous aura, they only dared to huddle in the corner, their face pale and silent, a far cry from their previous demeanor.

"Master, the target is lost, but he was hit by our poison. Even if he escapes, he won't make it past dawn."

The black man spoke with utmost deference, but he still dared not raise his head. After all, failure meant death a hundred times over; what justification could he possibly offer?

"Tianming... Do you know how many more hours until Tianming? In these hours, so many things can happen! Qin Wu, it seems you've been too lenient lately."

The man's words, spoken softly and slowly, sent a chill down everyone's spine. The kneeling figure dared not look up, let alone offer any resistance.

"I'll have you found! Your life is spared for now, await your punishment at the execution grounds once this matter is resolved."

"Yes!"

When the Black man left, the person huddled in the corner of the bed slowly crawled out and gave a smile. "Grandpa, don't be angry. This long night, how can we let these little things upset your heart..."

"Ah..."

Before he could finish speaking, a pair of beautiful eyes widened in horror, as if they couldn't believe what was happening. Just moments ago, the carefree immortal seemed to be in high spirits, yet now his neck was being choked.

"Grandfather... Grandfather, son... I was wrong..." The child tried to grab the hand that was choking him, but sadly, his weak body had no strength to break free. His face was already flushed red, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would lose his life in the next moment.

"Hmph!"

Seeing the man struggling helplessly, a hint of mockery appeared in his cold eyes. He casually tossed him aside, looking at the defeated man like a stray dog without a shred of pity.

"Child..."

"Grandpa… cough, cough… son will listen to grandpa…" The younger one didn't even bother to care about his disheveled appearance, crawling on the ground as if he wanted to take out his heart and show his sincerity.

The man smiled meaningfully.

"That's good." The man bent over and picked up a strand of hair, like a human whisper, but it made the kneeling person shudder.

He slowly stood up, looked at the trembling man on the ground for a long time before slowly opening his mouth: "Son, do something for grandpa."

"Grandfather commanded,"

"Very well, then we shall return to the border of King Rui. I'm sure you will satisfy me."

"Grandfather…" The boy shuddered, but dared not refuse. He gritted his teeth and immediately agreed, "Yes, son will definitely satisfy Grandfather."

After everyone left, in the luxurious room, a man stood by the window lost in thought. His narrow eyes were filled with killing intent.

"Damn it!"

The man angrily slapped out a palm, and the originally delicate and beautiful incense burner placed on the bedside shattered into pieces, becoming a mess, marking the end of its life.

At this time, in a certain place on the outskirts of Bianliang City, a man in blue brocade embroidered with green bamboo stood with a long sword at his mouth. His crimson-stained shirt was even more pitiful and disheveled under the snowy light.

And scattered around were pieces of wood, which seemed to have once been a chair, but now were left in such a pitiful state.

"Who are you, to dare assassinate this king?" The man's voice was like ice honed in the depths of winter, so chilling that the several black-clad figures hesitated to approach.

"It seems he's not going to say anything."

Unfortunately, those people had no intention of clearing things up and instead rushed towards him with their weapons drawn.

He slowly picked up his weapon, and in an instant, the snowflakes swirled like countless blades, covering the sky and hurtling towards those people. They were trapped in a net of ice and snow, unable to move even an inch. In panic, he mustered all his strength and silently slipped away towards the other side while the snowstorm raged.

For a long time, he struggled on until he was exhausted and finally collapsed in the snow, looking utterly dishevelled.

Finally, he calmed down. He slowly lifted his head and stared coldly ahead, his brow furrowed as if worried about something. He listened intently for a long time but heard nothing, so he feigned exhaustion and collapsed to the ground.

He looked at the sword in his hand, the blade already dulled and darkened, it was obvious that poison had been applied to its surface. He raised his head, if someone were to pass by they would find this man incredibly handsome, so perfect that he seemed drawn from a painting. Every feature was flawless, and those indifferent eyes, edged with coldness, now stared at the snow on the ground. His most captivating feature, however, was his silver hair, which glinted against the snow, making his entire being radiate a faint luminosity, like a deity descending from heaven.

"Ahem..."

The man clutched his chest, several coughs wracking his body before he fell back, revealing a wound so dark and horrifying it sent chills down your spine. He tried to stand, but found himself utterly powerless, his strength draining away like water seeping through cracks.

He lay in the snow, his cold eyes flickering with a gleam, before slowly raising them to whisper, "Heaven wants me dead..."

"What a shame."

To think of him, the honorable Prince Rui, the Emperor's most favored sixth son, now reduced to a beggarlike figure, dying here in this desolate wilderness, not even knowing how he would meet his end... A hint of cold laughter gradually crept into his eyes.

At this moment, he was filled with so much rage and despair. Why had heaven dealt him such a broken life? He even lacked the strength to escape. These eyes, this body, had never suffered such profound pain since his earliest memories.

The man muttered, even though he was unwilling, he was powerless. He slowly closed his eyes, and at the last moment, a sneer appeared on his face: "If... this time goes smoothly, I must make... pay back..."

"Ahem..."

A blue garment, silver hair, and red against the white snow paint a picture of life and death, tragic and desolate. The rustling white snow falls relentlessly upon him, desperately trying to whiten everything.