Eu Realmente Não Cumpro com Meus Deveres Imperiais
No décimo nono dia do primeiro mês do primeiro ano do reinado de Wanli, o imperador Wanli, Zhu Yijun, observava atentamente o triângulo de ferro à sua frente. O primeiro aliado tinha feições bastante amáveis; ela era a imperatriz viúva da Grande Ming. O segundo aliado era apenas um eunuco, cuja responsabilidade era fazer reverências. O terceiro aliado era um poderoso ministro, que exalava uma aura de autoridade. Por fim, todos voltaram os olhos para mim, perguntando qual papel eu desempenhava: olhei para a minha identidade e disse: eu sou — o grande imperador que não cuida dos assuntos sérios. Também conhecido como: "Eu tenho incontáveis pequenos hobbies", "O soco imperial da graça real", "Tornando a Grande Ming grandiosa novamente"…
Eu Realmente Não Cumpro com Meus Deveres Imperiais
“Water’s flooding in! Quick, put out the fire! Seize the assassin! The one in the black robe is the assassin!”
The uproar outside the hall stirred Zhu Yijun from his daze. He blinked in confusion and saw a large bed surrounded on three sides by screens carved from sandalwood, dark with a hint of purple, exuding a simple, profound elegance and faintly glowing under the candlelight. Upon closer look, the carvings depicted several five-clawed golden dragons.
“Ow, that hurts.” Zhu Yijun rubbed his forehead, seemingly having bumped it. As he paused mid-rub, he stared blankly at his youthful hands, hardly believing it—these were the hands of a child.
He had drunk heavily the day before; could it be he had somehow reversed age?
Slowly, he rose and surveyed his surroundings. Above him were intricately painted beams and carved railings; below, the floor was paved with golden bricks. Beyond the screen carved with five-clawed dragons stood a long writing desk, flanked by two palace lanterns shaped like cranes. Amid flickering light and swirling incense smoke, a chill breeze carrying the scent of sandalwood brushed against his nose.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! I have come too late to save you. Are you unharmed?” A clean-shaven man in a bright red eunuch’s robe rushed into the hall, breathless. Hearing the commotion, he had hurried at full speed to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, stumbling once over the threshold and falling hard, then smoothly dropping to his knees. Crawling forward, he wailed in anguish, “Your Majesty, I deserve death! I came too late!
📚 Related Recommendations
View More >
