The seventeenth year of Chongzhen.
An army marched into Beijing. Wherever it went, the people welcomed it wholeheartedly, and the land seemed alive with vitality, with all things flourishing and competing to grow.
The Ming dynasty was on the brink of collapse. Chongzhen had already climbed up a crooked-neck tree, ready to hang himself.
Just then, a man appeared before him.
“Your Highness, don’t kill yourself.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Zhou Ming, prime minister of the Zhaoming Republic.”
“Prime minister? Who’s the emperor?”
“Taizu, Zhu Yuanzhang! Though nowadays, you should call him the president!”
“What position do you hold now?”
“I have a say over the lands of China. Everything beyond China is my territory!”
