I Am Hongguang, But I Refuse to Be Hongguang

When Zhu Yousong transmigrates into the body of Zhu Yousong, Prince of Fu, at the end of the Ming dynasty, the Chongzhen Emperor has already hanged himself on Coal Hill.

On the flight south, he chews dried sweet potatoes and frets: the Prince of Lu wants the throne, the Qing army wants it, and even Li Zicheng's remaining forces are watching hungrily.

He pulls out a lighter to ignite his dry tobacco and says, “A technological gap? Let’s start by making a flintlock.”

Using his modern knowledge, he builds an intelligence network and reforms the Embroidered Uniform Guard with a performance review system.

When meeting missionaries, he deliberately calls the telescope a “thousand-mile eye,” while secretly urging craftsmen to imitate flintlocks.

While the Hongguang court is still arguing over etiquette, his new army has already repelled a Qing surprise attack with firebombs.

When Li Zicheng’s remaining forces surrender, they cry out, “The Hongguang Emperor actually knows more about dividing up the land than we do?”

Years later, the Spanish Armada is left dumbfounded at the sight of ironclad warships.

Standing before a globe, Zhu Yousong chuckles. “The empire on which the sun never sets? Sorry, I’ve patented that phrase.”