Great Ming: The Imperial Grandson Must Not Die

In the fifth month of the fifteenth year of Hongwu, Zhu Xiongying, the emperor's eldest legitimate grandson, died at the age of nine. He was posthumously named Prince Yu. The history books turned the page, and three hundred years later no one remembered that child. Thirteen years later, the body opened its eyes. It was not the child living inside it, but a man who had spent his entire life poring over account books. The first thing he did after waking was not call for help, but take stock: his wrists, his ribs, the newly replaced beams overhead, and the mark on his left cheek that looked less like an illness and more like a burn. Medicine arrived from the east on the fifteenth of every month. After being simmered all night, it was served lukewarm. The guards at the gate made no sound as they walked; only the token at their waists changed, with a different person assigned every month. He knew who he was, and he knew he had died once already. Now he could not call out, reveal his identity, or leave. A sword honed for thirteen years; he was in no hurry. Those thirteen years had to be accounted for, one by one.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.