1637: Sugar and Ember

When a tsunami engulfs the empire, how a mid-level bureaucrat becomes the savior of millions of people—and their worst nightmare. In 1588, the Spanish Armada defeated the British, and the "Empire on which the Sun Never Sets" reached its peak. Thirty years later, a huge gamble ruined the country's destiny. The king died in a rebellion, and the golden age ended overnight. Another seventeen years passed, and the embers of lies were about to burn out. In 1637, Don Carlos, an official of the Inquisition, was exiled to a small border town. He just wanted to escape, but he accidentally saved a girl. Strange things happened one after another: a priest who was killed in a barn, an unprecedented natural disaster, and a song from prison that did not belong to this era. He didn't know that he was about to become the name shouted by millions of people. He didn't know that the remnants of the Armada that had been missing for twenty years were triggering a secret war among all parties: the Inquisition covered up the truth, local lords separated themselves and established themselves, the Genoese consortium infiltrated technology, and the pirate group robbed the rich and gave to the poor. And he, a tired ordinary man, was forced to be involved in the center of the entire storm at this moment. In 1640, fire burned through Spain. An old man picked up a porcelain jar and rushed to the dilapidated house for the sweet taste of white sugar. One observer recorded worriedly: "That man sincerely believes it. That's what I fear most." This is both the story of 17th-century Spain and a parable for all times.