The Paranoid Male Lead’s "White Moonlight" Has Reborn - Chapter 1

Over the past few days, Jiang Chaoyun had been frequently having a certain “dream.”

Just like now, he was dreaming again.

Jiang Chaoyun stood beneath a pillar carved with coiled dragons, looking up toward the center of the hall. He could see a young man dressed in dark red brocade sitting upon a gold-lacquered throne carved with dragons, looking down upon the world with a disdainful gaze. Below him, a person lay prostrate on the ground, shaking like a sieve and letting out piteous, shrill cries.

The palace hall, which should have been solemn and magnificent, was shrouded in vast patches of darkness because only two clusters of lamplight were lit. Only above the throne was there a faint, shimmering glow.

Under such dim light, the young emperor sat with his face slightly lowered. His features were veiled in shadow, making his expression unreadable. However, his voice reached Jiang Chaoyun’s ears with absolute clarity, carrying a hint of a soft, gentle smile.

“Chop off his fingers,” the emperor said. His tone was as casual as if he were remarking, The weather is quite nice today.

A guard gave a shout of acknowledgement and stepped forward to drag the person from the floor. Although the light was dim, Jiang Chaoyun could see the person’s face clearly. It was a delicate and beautiful youth. With tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes, the boy cried out miserably, “Your Majesty, Your Majesty, this servant was wrong! This servant will never dare again; I will surely protect my hands well…”

The emperor remained entirely unmoved, and the guard did not dare to delay. He immediately covered the youth’s mouth and dragged him out. Very soon, a series of screams and wails that seemed to pierce the sky echoed from outside the hall. Each cry was steeped in blood, sending a wave of cold air from the soles of Jiang Chaoyun’s feet straight to his heart.

A guard clad in golden armor walked into the hall with a wooden box held respectfully in both hands. He knelt. “Your Majesty.”

the eunuch standing behind the young emperor stepped forward, took the wooden box, presented it to him, and opened it.

Jiang Chaoyun heard him ask, “Do they look alike?”

The eunuch’s entire body trembled. Trying to guess the emperor’s intent, he forced a smile and said, “They do, they do.”

The emperor said in a low voice, “His fingertips didn’t have burn scars.”

The eunuch was instantly silenced as if his throat had been seized, able only to let out slight, wheezing sounds.

The emperor fell into a silence, speaking no more.

Jiang Chaoyun was terrified by the emperor’s brutal actions and had never dared to look at the man’s face. But at this moment, he couldn’t help but lift his eyes to look in that direction. With just this one glance, his eyes happened to collide with the emperor’s distant, downward-sweeping gaze. It was a pair of eyes that seemed to contain a black vortex, capable of sucking in all light—eyes that inspired an infinite, bone-chilling fear.

Jiang Chaoyun was so frightened by that look that he jolted awake from the “dream.” His breathing was rapid, and he was drenched in a cold sweat.

His maid, Bixin, hurried over carrying a candlestick, her face full of tension. “Young Master, were you possessed by a nightmare again?”

Jiang Chaoyun nodded in a daze. Bixin reached out to touch his forehead and was startled. “Why is it covered in sweat!”

She quickly lit the candles by the bedside and placed the lamp covers on. The room was instantly filled with light. Having done this, Bixin whispered, “I will go prepare some hot water. It isn’t good to go back to sleep after sweating like that.”

Jiang Chaoyun nodded, his expression still dazed. Bixin cast a worried look at him, suppressed her anxiety, and hurriedly fetched dry clothes before rushing out the door.

Fortunately, Jiang Chaoyun had a unique constitution, so his courtyard had its own small kitchen where hot water and food were always kept ready. Thus, Bixin returned very quickly.

Jiang Chaoyun did not like others attending to his person, so he handled the washing of his body and changing of his clothes himself.

Bixin lit new silver-thread charcoal, and the room became warm again. Borne by this toasty warmth, Jiang Chaoyun wiped his body with the hot water, and his cold-nipped skin immediately warmed up.

After tidying himself and changing into dry undergarments, Jiang Chaoyun shrank back into his quilt.

Only after doing all this did he feel as though he had truly stepped out of that “dreamscape.”

It had been five or six days since Jiang Chaoyun had been reborn. Throughout these days, he had been having these kinds of “dreams.”

In the dreams, he saw the tyrannical and autocratic deeds of that young emperor, which caused him to wake up frequently in fright. His spirit had not been very good these past few days.

In his past life, he was nineteen when he passed away. Now, he had returned to the age of seventeen, which meant he still had two years to live.

But if he kept having these dreams, he might end up meeting the King of Hell ahead of schedule.

Jiang Chaoyun gripped the quilt tightly and let out a long, faint sigh. It was only after dying once that he realized he was merely a character in a storybook. However, even if it was a story in a book, he had his own life, and he could feel the reality of everything around him.

This was his world.

That book told the story of an emperor, and Jiang Chaoyun occupied a very significant role in it.

Because he was the “White Moonlight” of this emperor during the monarch’s youth.

This emperor was the third son of the current sovereign, the legitimate son born of the original Empress. Currently, due to an unspeakable reason, he was hiding his identity in the Jiang Manor, serving as a lowly courtyard guard.

After his death, Jiang Chaoyun had read the entire book. He knew that this Third Prince, Han Jiangmu—the one the current Emperor valued least—would one day drive out the foreign tribes wreaking havoc across the Central Plains. He would unify the fragmented map into a powerful Great Nation and change the dynastic name from Yan to Jiang. Under his iron cavalry, the fierce foreign tribes would be slaughtered until only the old, weak, women, and children remained, ensuring they could not pose a threat for a hundred years.

During his reign, even the habitats of those foreign tribes were incorporated into the Jiang territory. The national strength became so formidable that the mere mention of it struck terror into the hearts of outsiders.

However, after driving out the foreigners and unifying the Central Plains, this young emperor fell into his own inner demons. His actions became increasingly erratic and violent, causing the powerful Jiang Nation to collapse in less than two hundred years.

Jiang Chaoyun had died in the winter of the year he turned twenty. At that time, Han Jiangmu had already left the Jiang Manor to devote himself to the great cause of reclaiming the Yan Kingdom’s lands.

Because Jiang Chaoyun was sickly and often stayed indoors, he rarely went out; in those two years, they probably hadn’t exchanged more than a hundred words. Jiang Chaoyun didn’t know why the man would regard him as his heart’s desire—to the point that his personality changed drastically upon learning of Jiang Chaoyun’s death after ascending the throne. Even when the foreign tribes invaded, the man had harbored that resentment to slaughter them all. And once the foreigners were wiped out, he turned his butcher’s knife toward his own people.

He sought out countless body doubles who resembled Jiang Chaoyun, only to kill those youths one by one using cruel tortures because they weren’t him. In the end, the corpses of those boys were broken and mangled, making it difficult for them to be laid to rest properly; palace servants could only roll them in straw mats and toss them into mass graves.

Previously, Jiang Chaoyun had only seen the written descriptions and was already terrified. The “dreams” he’d had lately had transformed those cruel words into images, frightening him to the very depths of his soul.

Being loved by such a person was certainly not something that could bring anyone joy.

But Jiang Chaoyun couldn’t help but wonder: since he was able to be reborn, was he perhaps being given a mission by the heavens?

The book stated that the young emperor’s rule was overthrown, and his nephew was placed on the throne by rebel forces. The once-mighty Jiang Nation was soon thrown into chaos and supported itself for only another hundred-odd years before being invaded by the resurgent foreign tribes, quickly vanishing into the river of history.

After that, the land of the Divine Realm went through periods of unification and division, but always suffered under the yoke of foreign invasion. Han Jiangmu, as an emperor, was like a brilliant firework; after a brief blossom, he vanished into the darkness.

If Han Jiangmu had never fallen in love with him, he probably wouldn’t have become so insane, right? In the future, he should be able to focus his mind, wouldn’t be so violent, and would be a good emperor.

Every man must die, but some deaths are as heavy as Mount Tai, while others are as light as a swan’s feather. In his past life, Jiang Chaoyun was confined to this small corner of the world. Though he had the love of his parents and the harmony of his brothers, his death was as light as air, leaving no trace behind other than the memories of those who missed him.

But if he could make Han Jiangmu detest him, then he would be saving those youths who would have been used as his body doubles, saving countless commoners, and indirectly saving the world!

That way, even if he died, it couldn’t be said to be a meaningless death.

However, even though Jiang Chaoyun had such passionate blood in his heart, he did not dare to approach Han Jiangmu for a long time. He had been somewhat haunted by Han Jiangmu recently; whether his eyes were open or closed, he saw images of the man taking lives with casual indifference.

In truth, he could no longer remember clearly what the emperor looked like in his youth. He tried hard to recall and seemed to remember a very handsome face, but such a face seemed inconsistent with the emperor in the High Heaven Palace, so he quickly brushed the thought aside.

He couldn’t remember anything more. His body was weak and he was always drowsy; as he thought, his consciousness blurred, and he soon fell into a sweet, dark sleep. Only this time, he did not dream of Han Jiangmu again.

The next morning, Bixin came over to help him dress.

Jiang Chaoyun did not like being served, so Bixin stood quietly outside the screen waiting.

This season was the winter that Jiang Chaoyun hated most. He was born in winter; while his mother was pregnant with him, she went to the Qingquan Temple to burn incense. Unexpectedly, they encountered bandits on the way. Fortunately, the provincial governor’s soldiers were passing by and saved his mother’s life. She wasn’t injured but was severely frightened, causing him to be born prematurely.

Because he didn’t receive timely care, Jiang Chaoyun suffered from severe cold and developed a chronic illness. His health had always been poor. When he was a child, many doctors asserted that he wouldn’t live past eighteen. Reaching this age was entirely due to expensive medicines keeping him alive.

Thinking of Han Jiangmu, Jiang Chaoyun felt a bit distressed. He stopped thinking about it in an escapist manner and focused on dressing himself.

The silver-thread charcoal was burning in the room, making it toasty. Bixin murmured in his ear, “The cold wave has just passed, but I fear it might return. You must wear more, Young Master.”

Jiang Chaoyun came back to his senses and said, “I’m not even going out, why wear so much?”

Bixin said disapprovingly, “We cannot be careless.”

Jiang Chaoyun was forced to put on another thick padded jacket underneath. After thinking for a moment, he said, “I want to go out for a walk.”

Upon hearing this, Bixin said, “Then you must wear a cloak.”

Saying so, she took a thick white fox-fur cloak out of the cabinet.

Although Jiang Chaoyun was weak and sickly, he was not short. In fact, he was considered tall among his peers. Bixin had to stand slightly on her tiptoes to tie the cloak’s ribbons for him.

Bixin tied the cloak for Jiang Chaoyun, stepped back, looked him up and down, and a slight blush rose to her cheeks.

Although Jiang Chaoyun’s physical frame was weak, he truly possessed an exquisite and beautiful face. Because he was still young, his cheeks still had a hint of childish roundness and softness. His eyes were amber, showing different shades of light depending on the illumination. His skin was very fair. Due to a deficiency in qi and blood, his lip color was not a moist red but a pale pink, yet this did not detract from his appearance; rather, it made him seem to possess a crystalline, translucent beauty.

At this moment, dressed in pure white, his brilliance remained unhidden. That snowy-white fox-fur cloak added a ten-fold air of nobility and refinement. Simply by standing there, he was an indescribable sight.

Bixin couldn’t help but praise, “This cloak is truly beautiful; it brings out your temperament, Young Master. This white fox is a rare find. For Guard Han to be able to hunt it and make such a cloak for you before winter arrived—it must be a blessing the fox earned in its previous life.”

Listening to her words, the corners of Jiang Chaoyun’s mouth curled up slightly. He touched the soft, beautiful fox fur at his neck and liked it in his heart. However, he suddenly paused, and his reaction was immediate. His voice turned faint. “This white fox… who hunted it?”

Bixin said, “It was Guard Han! His archery is superb; he shot the white fox in the eye with a single arrow so as not to damage the fur. Young Master Jin heard about it and went to ask him for it, but he wouldn’t give it up, saying that the Young Master had already claimed it and that it was to be sent to our courtyard.”

Bixin clearly liked this Guard Han very much; her mouth was full of praise for him.

Jiang Chaoyun swallowed his saliva. Suddenly, the cloak on his body felt as if it had grown thorns, pricking him into a state of panic.

Han Jiangmu already had feelings for him at this time?

No, this won’t do. He cannot be allowed to like him!