Pain. A kind of sharp pain that tears apart the soul, as if all the bones in the body have been crushed and then barely spliced together. Then came the burning, and the throat, chest, and even every inch of skin felt like they were being roasted on charcoal fire, dry and hot. Zhu Yun Sheng opened his eyes suddenly, and what he breathed in was not the familiar modern urban air of car exhaust mixed with the aroma of coffee, but a smell that was so strong that it was suffocating, mixed with the smell of bitter medicine, incense and a hint of decay.
His vision was blurry, and he could only barely make out the complicated wooden carved bed top above his head. The dark red curtains hung low, cutting off most of the light, making the surroundings look dim and depressing. He wanted to move, but found that his body was as heavy as lead, and it was extremely difficult to even lift a finger. A hoarse sound came from his throat, so weak that it was almost inaudible. Where is this? Hospital intensive care unit? No, this furnishing... A severe headache hit him, and countless chaotic memory fragments rushed into his mind like a flood that broke a dam: PPT, overtime, neon lights, rent reminder text messages... And the memory of another weak child: complicated etiquette, majestic grandfather, gentle father, bitter medicinal soup, and a pair of eyes that always have a little inquiry and coldness...
The two memories intertwined and collided wildly, almost tearing his consciousness apart completely. He, a modern social animal named Zhang Wei, died suddenly after staying up late to work on a project. His soul actually broke into the body of a dying young man from ancient times? And the identity of this young man... The pieces of information were gradually pieced together, and a name that made him tremble with fear emerged - Emperor Hongwu of the Ming Dynasty.
