In September of the seventh year of the Apocalypse, when the ambergris from the Qianqing Palace, mixed with a faint musty smell, entered Lin Yue's nose, he died suddenly in the archives while holding a copy of the Chongzhen Dynasty memorial. A biting chill spread from the dragon bed to his limbs, and the faint voice of "Your Majesty" in his ears penetrated into his mind like a needle. It was not a shout from a colleague in the archives, but a whisper with an elegant Mandarin accent. He suddenly opened his eyes and saw that the bright yellow curtain was embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon, and there was a caisson with carved beams and paintings above his head. Several eunuchs in green round-collared robes and black gauze hats were standing with their heads bowed. The leader was white and beardless, with timid eyes but hidden concern. Seeing him open his eyes, he immediately knelt down on the ground: "Your Majesty, I wish you all the best! I'm a servant, Xiao Dezi, I'll tell the imperial doctor..."
