The strangulation on my neck jolted me awake.
I opened my eyes and saw a bright red carved beam and a white silk hanging from the beam. Cold sweat instantly soaked my back. I subconsciously wanted to reach for my throat, but found myself kneeling on the ground, my hands tied behind my back, and my knees hitting the gold bricks, which were bone-chilling cold.
Wrong.
Where the hell is this?
I looked down at myself - a bright yellow dragon robe with a five-clawed golden dragon embroidered on the chest and a jade belt tied around my waist. Damn it, what is going on? Traveled through time? The next second, memories rushed into my mind like a flood, almost knocking me out on the spot. I am Zhu Youjian, Emperor Chongzhen, the seventeenth emperor of the Ming Dynasty. I have been in power for seventeen years, facing internal and external troubles. Today is the last day on Meishan.
The shouts of death outside the door were surrounded by flames and soared into the sky.
I instinctively wanted to stand up, but my legs were already numb from kneeling and I couldn't use any strength at all. Spread out on the dragon table in front of him is a posthumous edict with still-dry ink written in red pen: "It has been seventeen years since I ascended the throne. Although I have a bad virtue and have been punished by others, and the Heaven is angry, all the ministers have misunderstood me..."
There is still half a sentence left to write, so the pen rests on the inkstone and the ink has dried.
I stared at the posthumous edict and felt a chill in my heart.
At this time, a voice suddenly exploded in my head, which made me tremble: "Ding! The national live broadcast system has been successfully bound. The host is Zhu Youjian. The number of people online currently: 0."
I was stunned.
