Eavesdropping on Secrets: the Record of Chongzhen's Counterattack

On March 18, the seventeenth year of Chongzhen, a bolt of thunder struck the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty on the top of Meishan Mountain. Zhu Youjian is not dead. He climbed up from the scorched earth and found that there were thousands of whispers in his ears - the inner calculations of the civil and military officials of the Manchu Dynasty, the hidden ambitions of the border generals, and the betrayal creeping in the shadows of every inch inside and outside the palace walls. All these voices poured into his sea of ​​​​consciousness like a tide. The Qi of the Ming Dynasty should have been completely cut off after the 23rd day. Meishan hanged himself, Jiangnan changed hands, and three hundred years of foundation turned into ashes. But that night, God gave him a pair of ears that could eavesdrop on secrets. From then on, the dim king tore off his disguise, and his frail body ignited with fire. He heard that Cao Huachun and Li Zicheng secretly made a secret agreement, so he plotted a "closed door and beaten dog" at Changyi Gate; he heard that Wei Zaode was thinking about the black hat after the change of dynasty in his dream, so he ransacked the family and exterminated the clan, and took away the greedy money. He heard Wu Sangui's hesitation in Shanhaiguan, Huang Taiji sharpening his knife on the hospital bed in Shengjing, Zhang Xianzhong's grin in Sichuan - for the first time, the whole world's chessboard was spread out in front of his eyes, and the heartbeat of every piece could be clearly heard. But he couldn't hear his own heart. When the ability to read minds becomes authority, the truth is no longer comfort, but poison. He could calculate everyone's calculations, but he could not calculate the tears of Empress Zhou as she leaned against the door late at night, looking forward to her return; he could hear the murderous intention behind every flattery in the court, but he could not hear Concubine Tian's inaudible "Your Majesty, I don't blame you for this concubine" before she died. Fate gave him the pen to rewrite, but not the hand to hold the pen.