In the first year of Yong'an, seventeen-year-old Zhao Qingyue held a string of agarwood beads and sat on the dragon's throne while hundreds of officials worshiped him. The third bead was polished by the fingertips. It was the last thought that the mother-in-law gave her before pushing her into the dry well ten years ago - the sound of fighting in the dry well had already engraved "the people are in dire straits" into her bones.
Everyone in the court laughed at the fact that the new emperor was braver than the tip of a needle: the report from the northern border pond was half a day late, so she rubbed Yanmen Pass against the map until her fingertips turned white; when the prime minister's voice was louder, she repeatedly asked about the food tax in the south of the Yangtze River; even her adopted daughter's gossip about peonies made her read the refugee register all night. But no one knows that her "weapons and trees are soldiers" are armor to protect the people.
Supporting her are two men: Wei Qianshan, the general in the north, is like a huge rock at Yanmen. He still wields his gun to guard the pass after being hit by three arrows. He always brings wild fruits from the north to say that he is "full"; Yushi Meng Guichuan is like a black bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River. He overthrew the corrupt prime minister with his account books and warmed tea late at night to hand over new rules for people's livelihood.
Floods in the south of the Yangtze River stirred up the turbulent waves of lust for power, and the golden wolf tribe trampled the snowy Yanmen. She finally established her edge by breaking the string of beads - wearing a dragon robe to kill greedy sycophants, opening a granary to comfort the homeless, and letting her adopted daughter go to the medical shed to see the suffering of the world. When Wei Qianshan died in battle with the determination of "one step back to Luoyang", and the bloody scabs on her armor clung to the frozen snow, she finally lost her last cowardice.
The beads are strung again and again, and the winter plum blossoms are still there. She spent forty years to fulfill her promise of "the peace of the people and the stability of the imperial power". In the 60th year of Yong'an, the agarwood beads and dried plum blossoms in the brocade box were quietly nestled together with the "Records of People's Livelihoods". The historian wrote: "The emperor was always worried, guarded the border with loyalty and courage, and used wisdom to make peace at home. There has been no major trouble for sixty years, and the people all remember him."
