I am Zhu Yuanzhang, the founding emperor of the Great Ming. One day, the sky suddenly split open, and a digital person called “zero-seven” announced before the whole world that my own grandson, Zhu Yunwen, would poison me to death six years from now.
Me: “???”
My grandson, Yunwen, the one who seems so kind and filial? He would put poison in my medicine? He would bury me just six days after I died? He would spark the Jingnan Campaign and send hundreds of thousands to their deaths?
I refuse to believe it.
That is, until zero-seven began laying out the evidence, one piece at a time: there was something suspicious about Chang’s death, something wrong with Yingying’s death, and Biao’s death was shrouded in even greater mystery... The people who stood to benefit from all of this were the civil officials and the Zhu Yunwen they supported.
Fine. Very well.
Nothing has changed! Concubine Wan Gui has already finished her postgraduate entrance examination and is a pitiful person! Still harming other people's reputations! And Xiaozong, the unfilial son, is still washing! The emperor here is so useless!
This word is really watery