The Daoist Emperor of Great Ming

In the winter of the forty-fifth year of the Jiajing reign, snow drifted through the Forbidden City, mingling with the incense smoke from the alchemy chamber, like the last wandering spirit of an empire.

“Your Majesty, it’s time for your elixir.” Huang Jin’s voice was hoarse, like an old bellows.

Zhu Houcong lay on the imperial bed without answering. Through the swirling green smoke, his cloudy eyes seemed to glimpse the young man who had ridden here from Anlu Prefecture in Huguang sixty years ago. Back then, he thought he had seized control of his fate. He never realized that fate had already laid a deadly trap for him, one called imperial power.

With a trembling hand, he pointed into the void and said to Feng Bao, the chief eunuch in charge of the writing brush, “In this life, I’ve seen through every heart, yet there’s one thing... one person... I’ve never been able to figure out. Go... find her/it...”