Zhu Zhanji is dead, but not completely dead.
After his death at the age of thirty-eight, his soul wandered around the world for some unknown reason for more than two hundred years. He watched helplessly as the Ming Dynasty perished under the crooked-necked tree in Meishan Mountain in Chongzhen, watched the Qing army enter the Pass, watched the Yangzhou Tenth and Jiading Three Massacres, and watched the people of the world being forced to shave their heads - leaving the hair but not the hair, leaving the head but not the hair.
There is an old blood clot in my heart that I can't spit out.
He once regretted killing his second uncle Zhu Gaoxu and living up to his grandfather's last words: "Uncle and nephew should not kill each other again." I also regretted giving birth to Zhu Qizhen, the prodigal son who ruined all the elites of the Ming Dynasty in a civil fort - if the second uncle was still there, why would this happen?
But after seeing the purgatory in the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, he realized that the regrets he had in his previous life were nothing compared to this.
Then he was reborn.
When he opened his eyes, he was transformed into the time when his grandfather Zhu Di was forcing Fang Xiaoru to write the edict to ascend the throne. Fang Xiaoru would rather die than obey and was about to be executed by the Ten Clan.
Zhu Zhanji looked at this tough guy and snorted in his heart: It doesn't matter whether you die or not, but my grandfather's reputation cannot be ruined in your hands.
