The crooked-necked trees in Jingshan swayed in the evening breeze. Zhu Youjian suddenly coughed violently when he threw his clothes belt over the dead branches. When he opened his eyes again, there was already a soul from the 21st century in his pupils.
"Your Majesty!" Wang Chengen knelt down and hugged his legs, "Keep the green hills here!"
I looked at the thick smoke rising in the direction of the Forbidden City, and suddenly laughed out loud: "I just dreamed about Grandpa Taizu, which means that the Ming Dynasty is not exhausted."
