Late Ming: I, the Chongzhen Emperor, Am Done Trying. Who’s With Me, and Who’s Against Me?

I, Zhu Youxiao, transmigrated into the body of the Prince of Xin in the seventh year of Tianqi, just in time to inherit that disastrous mess. My elder brother kicked the bucket at twenty-three, my imperial father died a month later, and my grandfather Wanli lived to fifty-eight after skipping court for thirty years. Is there even a choice? Work myself to death trying to rule well, or lie flat and live a long, comfortable life? I know how to answer that one.

Wei Zhongxian? The Donglin faction? What do they have to do with me? The imperial treasury is so empty you can hear the coins rattle. Why risk my neck?

I’ve decided to sell myself: marry off to ministers and have children. That can’t be against the law, can it? Anyone who wants to become an imperial in-law is welcome. The fee is three hundred taels, and no ugly ones, please. State affairs? I’ll show up at court just to clock in, stamp memorials “Read,” and pretend to faint halfway through meetings. The frontier is under attack? Don’t let an urgent dispatch from eight hundred li away disturb my sleep!

But gradually, I realize this dragon throne… seems to get more secure the longer I lie on it. The spoils sent back by the border generals include exotic beauties. The empress and consorts look at me strangely, and even Qin Liangyu, who’s always calling me a foolish ruler, gets to me. During a martial arts practice, her sweat-soaked uniform clung to her body. I offered her a handkerchief, and her fingertips brushed my palm…

Damn it, I just know! The Ming dynasty isn’t going to fall! As long as the emperor doesn’t go stirring up trouble… Hey, Empress Zhang, where are you putting your hand? I may have decided to lie flat, but I still need to take care of my imperial health…