On the walls of Wangjue City, she stands in a black dress, gripping a curved dagger stained with blood. Her crimson eyes calmly gaze down at the agonized, twisted faces below, while tears silently trail down her breathtaking face. The height of summer, yet snow blankets the land. She is a legend on the battlefield, all because she made a deal with a demon and became a bloodthirsty fiend with only five years to live. She did it for him, the man who wore flowing white robes beneath the flowering trees and gently played the zither. She traded her whole life for his lifetime of health and peace across his realm. Even when he dressed in red and rode in a bridal sedan to marry another woman, even when he was caught in a misunderstanding and refused to hear a single word of her defense, she endured it all. Flowers bloomed and withered, leaves drifted down, and she fell asleep in her wedding dress, tears in her eyes, hearing a whisper by her ear:
