His fall into the Qingjiang River was no accident. It was a conspiracy between the civil officials and the frontier general Jiang Bin.
After transmigrating into the ailing Zhengde Emperor, I discovered I was already trapped in a death sentence.
Yang Tinghe knelt beside my bed, holding the imperial edict: “Your Majesty, please appoint an heir at once to secure the realm.”
I forced my sick body upright and sneered. “I’m not dead yet.”
That night, I secretly summoned Zhang Yong. “Draft an edict. Bring Wang Shouren to the capital.”
Power grows from the barrel of a gun. I would break this deadlock with blood and fire.
