In the fifteenth year of the Hongwu era, his soul transmigrated into Zhu Xiongying, the eldest legitimate grandson of the Ming emperor. He had planned to display his grand ambitions, but the System he carried with him told him:
Human emperors live no more than a hundred years. Cultivating immortality and seeking longevity is the proper path.
Eight-year-old Zhu Xiongying scratched his backside.
Damn it, I suppose I’ll believe it.
In the twenty-fifth year of the Hongwu era, his beloved eldest son fell gravely ill. Upon hearing the news, Zhu Chongba rushed to the Eastern Palace.
When he arrived, he saw Zhu Xiongying dressed in a white robe, with an elegant white cloth tied around his head and his ink-black hair hanging loose. He was sitting cross-legged amid candles arranged in the formation of the Big Dipper before Zhu Biao’s sickbed.
“Grandfather, you’re late.”
After saying this, Chongba burst into tears. In his grief, he could not help marveling at how filial his eldest grandson was, having put on mourning clothes for his father without missing a moment.
“My son!”
Just as he cried out, the youth grinned.
“I have extended Father’s life by seven years.”
In the thirty-first year of the Hongwu era, Old Zhu was gravely ill, while A Biao, whose life had been extended by seven years, had also reached the end of his strength. Just after Zhu Xiongying finished meditating, he received an imperial edict.
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:
I and the Crown Prince have both suffered from illness for a long time. As the myriad affairs of state cannot remain unattended for long, We hereby command the Imperial Grandson to take the imperial seal, ascend the Hall of Literary Brilliance, manage the various affairs of state, supervise the army, and govern the realm in Our stead. All matters submitted by the various offices shall be presented to the Imperial Grandson for his decision.
Let this be proclaimed throughout the realm, so that all may know.”
