In March of the seventeenth year of Chongzhen, there was no wind in Meishan, and the Ming Dynasty was dead.
When he opened his eyes again, he put on a cold wrought iron mask and held a stainless steel caliper in his hand.
The old Ming Dynasty raised scholars for three hundred years, and it raised worms, dignitaries, and cannibals everywhere.
Then start from Tianjin Wei, measure inch by inch, and engrave one by one.
Every grain of corn in the granary must be taken back;
Every part of the city wall where corners were cut must be recast.
The black ledger with iron pages has been opened, and sparks are flying everywhere.
I don't care about benevolence, justice and morality, I only care about industrial tolerance.
Anyone who does not comply will be discarded and will be wiped out on the spot.
