The Ming Dynasty's Imperial Preceptor

The Mid-Autumn Festival moon hung high, bright as day. In the narrow prison cell, moonlight illuminated Jiang Xinghuo's face. Sensing it was almost time, Jiang Xinghuo and his group arrived at the old, crooked-necked tree. Jiang Xinghuo leaned lazily against the tree. "Mr. Jiang, it's the Mid-Autumn Festival today, what should we talk about?"

In the fourth year of the Jianwen Emperor's reign, a rain fell in Nanjing. Those living in the streets and teahouses of Nanjing inevitably had their own stories to tell about this rain. The main reason was that this rain was rather strange. It came at dawn, with two full moons hanging in the sky. Above, streaks of red light scattered. The scene was incredibly bizarre.

In the early morning, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the air after the rain was filled with the fragrance of fresh grass. "Jingle bell!" The bells on the carriage tinkled crisply in the breeze. These bells were a birthday gift from Jiang Xinghuo; though not exquisite, they represented the sentiment.

Zhu Gaoxu, the second son of Emperor Yongle (Zhu Di), received preferential treatment from his elder brother because his mother was Empress Wen (Xu). However, he did not meet a good end in history, dying a rather tragic death. The reason for this was his unyielding spirit, a spirit rife with rebellion. However, this is why Jiang Xinghuo had never been to this world before.

Awakening in a daze, realizing he had transmigrated to a new life, Jiang Xinghuo didn't immediately absorb the original owner's memories. Instead, he pondered the most fundamental question: Who am I? Several transmigrations and a long life had long since clouded Jiang Xinghuo's mind, making it muddled and unclear.

Long retired, Jiang Xinghuo stood in a small courtyard in the capital, dressed in a cotton coat, listening to the unique autumn sounds of the Ming Dynasty capital. Unlike the pigeon whistles, wind chimes, and shouts of centuries later, the people of the Ming Dynasty remained simple and honest, living in peace and contentment.

As the Mid-Autumn Festival approaches once again, the city of Yanjing is bustling with people. This is the fifth year since the Yongle Emperor ascended the throne. Commodity trade and the material economy have developed rapidly, and the material life of the people of the Ming Dynasty has also improved significantly.

Fortunately, the frequent rains in the sweltering heat wash away the dust and bring refreshing air. A recluse, waking with nothing to do, leans alone against the window to watch the evening sunshine. It is already past June in Yingtian. "La la la, la la la, I'm a little expert at selling newspapers! I don't wait until dawn to go get the paper, walking and calling out, today's news is really good!"

With a sharp "crack," a searing pain shot through his arm. Jiang Xinghuo, still dazed, snapped back to reality. He was about to unleash a torrent of curses when he was stunned by what he saw. A group of ragged, primitive people, barely better off than savages, their hands bound behind their backs with rope, were struggling across the knee-deep grass of the wasteland.

A banished immortal, a celestial being fallen to earth. In heaven and earth, only one born with such profound knowledge. Like being intoxicated by celestial nectar, like floating clouds pouring down, transforming into the purest and most dazzling star. Jiang Xinghuo was that most dazzling star of the Ming Dynasty. "Your Majesty, I have come to take my leave!"