The Ming Dynasty's Eldest Grandson Returns: The Hongwu Golden Age Will Never Fade

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In the imperial palace of Yingtian Prefecture, inside a warm chamber in a side hall of the Eastern Palace's Wenhua Hall, incense made from pine needles curled through the air. On the carved, gilt bed, the bright yellow brocade curtains were embroidered with intricate lotus vines. Above, strands of pearls hung from the openwork sandalwood canopy, scattering flecks of light in the morning sun.

Zhu Xiongying's eyes flew open. His chest heaved violently, as if he had just escaped the suffocating grip of drowning. His throat was as dry as sandpaper, and he struggled to utter two words: “Water... water...” His voice was so childish, like that of a little boy, utterly unlike the adult voice of the thirty-year-old he remembered.

“His Highness is awake! His Highness is awake!” A maid in blue palace robes hurried forward, her voice bright with excitement.