Beneath Xuanwu Gate

On the sixth day of the fifth month in the sixth year of the Tianqi reign, beneath Xuanwu Gate, I saved someone. My name is Shen Daniu. I’m from Shandong, and I set up a jianbing stall at Caishikou, spending my days rubbing shoulders with peddlers and laborers. Third Master Chang was a clerk in the Six Departments Corridor and a regular customer. He always asked me to add two extra eggs, saying the work at the yamen took a lot of brainpower. I was busy at my stall that day when the sky suddenly went dark. Not the kind of dark that comes with sunset, but an eerie blackness so deep I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Then came a muffled boom, and the ground flipped over beneath my feet. When I crawled out of the rubble, half of Caishikou had been flattened. I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I bolted for Xuanwu Gate. My jianbing stall was gone, so I at least had to see whether the gate tower was still standing. As I drew near, I saw that half the tower was leaning. A young man stood beneath it, covered in dust, staring blankly up at the structure. A little eunuch beside him tugged at his sleeve and cried. I looked up. Good heavens, a roof beam was falling straight toward them. I cursed and charged over, shoving the young man out of the way. The beam slammed squarely into my back. Pain flashed before my eyes, and I lay sprawled on the ground, unable to get up for a long while. The young man came over and looked down at me. Only later did I learn his name was Zhu Youjian, the younger brother of the current emperor, and that he lived in the Prince of Xin’s residence. In two months, he would no longer be the Prince of Xin. As for me, Shen Daniu, I left my jianbing stall at Caishikou behind and stepped into the final seventeen years of the Ming dynasty, amid windswept blades and frost-covered swords. That fall beneath Xuanwu Gate sent my life tumbling straight into the history books.