At the end of the Ming Dynasty, I impersonated a descendant of the Jianwen Emperor.

Night deepened.

On the official road outside the capital, horseshoes pounded on the frozen mud with a deep and urgent sound.

A person wrapped in a cotton robe was lying on the horse's back, his body almost pressed against the horse's neck, his legs clamping the horse's belly, one hand tightly gripping the reins, and the other hand pressed against his chest.

The horse was covered in sweat, with white foam at the corners of its mouth, and it was panting with every step it took, as if it were about to die at any moment.

The man on horseback raised his eyes and saw the dark outline of the city wall ahead.

Beijing.

Zhengyang Gate.

As February drew to a close, the moon was reduced to a cold, crescent-shaped hook, hanging diagonally above the crenellations of the city wall.

A few lanterns were lit on the city gate tower, their faint lights swaying in the wind.

The man on horseback pulled something from his bosom and held it above his head with all his might.

It was a bronze seal, its surface gleaming darkly in the moonlight.

His voice was hoarse, his lips were cracked in several places, and he could taste the blood in his throat with every breath.

But he still managed to force his last breath out of his chest.

"Open the door!"

"I have urgent military intelligence! It's extremely urgent! Open the door immediately!"

The guards on the city wall were stunned.

A young soldier peeked down, then ducked back down and shouted to those behind him:

"Boss! There's someone down there! They say it's military intelligence! It's extremely urgent!"

The garrison commander, wearing a cotton-padded armor, walked out of the city gate tower, clutching half a piece of mutton in his hand.

He walked to the edge of the battlement, looked down, and saw a horse and a man. The horse was already unsteady on its feet, its hooves trembling, and the man was lying on the horse's back, holding a bronze seal in his hand.

The general stuffed the mutton into his mouth but did not order the door to be opened.

"Urgent military situation?"

He shouted down, "Where's your signal flag? Why aren't you even sending one?"

"I left in such a hurry, I didn't even bring a signal flag!"

The messenger below raised the bronze seal, his voice already trembling with sobs.

"This is the official seal of the Zhongdu Garrison Command. If you don't believe me, try hanging it up in a basket! Zhongdu, Zhongdu has already been... cough cough cough..."

He was interrupted by a violent cough before he could finish speaking.

The sound of coughing echoed outside the empty city gate.

The sergeant stood at the edge of the battlements, his expression changing.

Zhongdu Garrison Command.

He had served in the army for over a decade and knew which area this government office was in charge of.

Fengyang.

It was not only the capital city, but also the location of the imperial tombs and the birthplace of the Ming Dynasty.

"Something happened in Zhongdu?"

The general didn't realize that his voice had also changed.

After saying that, he suddenly turned around and growled at the soldiers behind him:

"Lower the basket! Quickly!"

The basket creaked and groaned as it was lowered down from the city wall.

The messenger tumbled off his horse, his legs gave way and he fell to the ground, but he struggled to get up again.

He then placed the document, wrapped in layers of oiled paper, into the basket along with the bronze seal.

He then pulled another token from his waist and threw it in as well. Then he tilted his head back, his lips trembling, and said something that no one could understand.

The basket was pulled up.

The general pulled out the contents of the box, glanced at the official seal by the lantern light, then at the token, and his face turned deathly pale in an instant.

"Open the gates! Open the city gates! Quickly! Quickly!"

The city gate made a dull, loud noise as the bolt was raised by the winch with a creaking sound.

The guards hurriedly pushed the door open a crack, just enough for one person to squeeze in sideways.

The messenger staggered through the doorway, his legs buckled, and he knelt on the ground.

A soldier handed him a water bag, which he took and drank a mouthful of water, which dripped from the corner of his mouth, mixed with mud and ash.

He wiped his throat haphazardly with his sleeve; his voice was still hoarse, but every word seemed to be forced out from his chest.

"Zhongdu Fengyang... has been captured by the rebel army. This is extremely urgent and must be reported to His Majesty."

..............

The message reached the Forbidden City after midnight.

A young eunuch, holding up the corner of his robe, jogged in through a side gate of the Meridian Gate.

The night wind blew into his robe, making him shiver.

But his forehead was covered in sweat.

He passed through the Huiji Gate and then the Guiji Gate. The stone path beneath his feet was bleached white by the moonlight, and he walked with both hurried and light steps.

He was clutching a document sealed with sealing wax, so tightly that his fingernails dug several marks into the cover.

Outside the Qianqing Palace, Wang Chengen was dozing off against a pillar in the corridor.

He wasn't fast asleep; he was just dozing off.

These were truly turbulent times for the Ming Dynasty.

Military reports from various places came one after another, sometimes even late at night. He had gotten used to not sleeping in bed, but waiting in the corridor.

The emperor could wake up at any time and ask questions at any time, and he had to respond at any time.

He heard footsteps, opened his eyes, and saw the young eunuch running towards him, panting, holding a document in his hand.

"Ancestor..."

The young eunuch lowered his voice, his tone high-pitched and urgent, "There's urgent military news!"

Wang Chengen took the document, glanced down at the wax seal on the cover, and then his fingers paused for a moment.

He recognized it; the mark represented the Zhongdu Garrison Command.

He wasn't unfamiliar with the documents issued by this government office.

The daily affairs of Fengyang, the petition for the repair of the imperial mausoleum, and the grain and salary application of Zhongdu Garrison.

But what about an urgent military situation?

What urgent military situation could there be in Fengyang?

He didn't dismantle it; it was for the emperor.

But as he held the document, his fingertips were already a little cold.

A moment later, he turned around, pushed open the door of the Qianqing Palace, and went inside.

The candlelight inside the hall was dim, and the lingering smoke of ambergris swirled between the gauze curtains.

The curtains on the dragon bed were drawn low, and Emperor Chongzhen was lying on his side, breathing very lightly.

He hasn't had a full night's sleep in a long time.

In recent years, he has only slept for two or three hours a day.

The endless memorials to be reviewed piled up on his desk, and the defeats, famines, and peasant uprisings in various places were like knives stabbing into his heart.

He always had a furrowed brow and clenched teeth when he slept.

Sometimes Wang Chengen would even hear him shouting in his sleep in the middle of the night, "What crime have I committed!", before falling back into a deep sleep.

Wang Chengen stood in front of the dragon bed for a long time.

He simply couldn't bear to wake the young emperor, who had just fallen asleep.

But he dared not delay the document in his hand for even a moment.

"Your Majesty," he called softly.

No response.

"Your Majesty."

His voice grew louder, and he reached out and gently touched Chongzhen's shoulder.

Emperor Chongzhen suddenly opened his eyes.

It wasn't the drowsy awakening of an ordinary person from sleep, but rather a startled awakening, with a kind of instinctive alertness in the opening of the eyes.

Whenever he was touched and woken up in the middle of the night, his first reaction was that there was bad news again.

"What is it?"

Zhu Youjian sat up, his voice hoarse, but without the slightest hesitation.

His gaze lingered on Wang Chengen's face for a moment before immediately shifting to the document in his hand.

"Your Majesty,"

Wang Chengen presented the document with both hands: "Urgent military intelligence from the Zhongdu Garrison."

Zhu Youjian took the document and removed the sealing wax.

The hall was so quiet that only the occasional crackling of the candlelight could be heard.

Wang Chengen stood to the side and saw Emperor Chongzhen's gaze quickly sweep across the paper before stopping.

Zhu Youjian's fingers began to tremble.

First the fingers, then the whole hand, then the shoulder.

On the night of the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, Zhongdu Fengyang was captured by the traitor Zhang Xianzhong.

The garrison commander of Zhongdu died, the prefect of Fengyang died, the commander died in battle, his troops were scattered, and the criminals encircled within the high walls of Fengyang were massacred. Many people died or were wounded in the city.

The place where Emperor Taizu rose to power.

Zhongdu, the capital of the Ming Dynasty.

No more.