Facing Southeast

In the first year of Kaibao, Jinling. Fourteen-year-old Prince Li Zhongyu of the Southern Tang Dynasty woke up from a big dream, covered in cold sweat. He remembers everything. I remember that my father Li Yu was poisoned to death in Bianjing, I remember that my aunt Xiao Zhou was forced into the palace and humiliated to death, I remember that tens of thousands of ink in the Chengxin Hall were burned, and I remember that the dancer named Yao Niang always turned her back to the throne and faced the southeast on the Golden Lotus Platform. After the last dance, she jumped into the pool. He remembers everyone's endings. Only I don't remember myself. In his previous life, he was a prince who died in depression in Bianjing after the fall of the country. At this moment, there are still seven years before the fall of the Southern Tang Dynasty. My father is still writing lyrics, Jinling is still singing and dancing, and everyone is still alive. From this day on, he decided not to be the person waiting to die. He organized the court, infiltrated the military, supported trade routes, and secretly made dead soldiers. He knew where to land every step of the way—until the more he changed, the faster his past life memories faded. When the golden fingers began to decrease and when the chess game escaped from the memory, the only thing he could be sure of was: Some endings must be rewritten. Even if the cost is himself. --- The rebirth of history and the long story of Machiavellian strategy. It tells about how a man who knew the countdown to the country's subjugation managed to survive a dead situation in seven years.