A Fleeting Dream of Splendor, Dyed by Winter!

Dasheng, the seventh year of Yong'an, winter.

The deepest level of the imperial prison had not seen daylight for years. Bone-chilling dampness carried the stench of blood, rot, and sour decay, clinging to every inch of stone wall and every inch of prisoner's clothing.

This was the dirtiest, most hopeless place in the capital, a burial ground for fallen nobles. Those who entered never left, and there was not a trace of life to be found.

Clang!

The prisoner did not move.

His body had long since been broken by torture.

His dark prison robes were in tatters. Whip marks and burns of every size covered his limbs and torso. His flesh was torn and rotting, with dark red scabs mixed with black mud and foul-smelling scraps of straw, all stuck fast to the ruined fabric. It was impossible to tell where the wounds ended and his body began.

Yet now, he was merely a condemned official implicated in the case of the deposed Crown Prince, a remnant of the rebel faction despised by everyone at court.

"Cough... cough, cough..."

Months of imprisonment and torture, of beatings day and night, had nearly destroyed his proud spirit and battle-hardened body.

Once, everyone had feared and revered him, awed by his great military achievements and the Emperor's favor.

But the moment he fell, the masses trampled him.

A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! A satisfying story! Here we go...

Theme: Reborn with foreknowledge, he dominates the whole game; plays the pig to eat the tiger and delivers face-slapping to princes and court officials; defies fate to save his beloved; breaks free of the constraints of conventional officialdom; turns the tables in the power struggle; takes bloody revenge; and shares a deep, mutual devotion.