Holding the Tripod to the Ming Dynasty

I have no golden fingers or system, I am just an ordinary person. In the fourteenth year of orthodoxy, I was still just a powerless King of Tao. When news of Tumu Fort's defeat came, the Manchu Dynasty discussed moving south. Because I know that three hundred years later, the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty will wrap the white silk around his neck, and I will watch from the side. Above the court hall, I pulled out the jade belt hook and made a crisp sound: "Anyone who dares to speak of migrating south will be killed." That night, I knocked on Yu Qian's door: "There are 9,200 kilograms of gunpowder outside Desheng Gate, and Ye Xian's food and grass can only last for twenty-three days. If you lose this battle - your ancestral hall will be smashed to pieces, and the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty will hang himself on Meishan. I saw it with my own eyes." Yu Qian was silent for a long time: "Your Highness, who are you?" I didn't answer. I'm the one who's seen the ending. In the next thirty years, I cleared military land, implemented grain payment for officials and gentry, and abolished stereotyped writing. Shi Heng is domineering, I will kill him. Cao Xu conspired to seize the door, and the Jin Yiwei waited for them to take action. The imperial brother Zhu Qizhen moved to Xiyuan. Across the courtyard, we looked at each other without saying a word. I have seen that white silk, and I will never let it strangle anyone's neck again. There is a pine and cypress in the Western Mountain. I planted it with my own hands, right at the location of Meishan Mountain. Looking from a distance, I suddenly smiled. ——That white silk, no one will be able to wait for it in this life.