The Enlightened Emperor

Prologue

I, Zhu Qizhen

A child of eight or nine years, dressed in white mourning clothes, curled up beneath a brocade quilt—a small, pitiable figure. His complexion was poor, tinged with fear. Beneath trembling eyelids, his eyes quivered ceaselessly. His lips moved with a faint, inaudible stammer, as if trying to speak yet unable, or perhaps simply unwilling.

Layer upon layer of curtains hung down, with bronze braziers outside, burning precious beast charcoal. This fuel not only burned steadily throughout the night but also produced no trace of smoke. In the corner stood several bronze incense burners, their patina betraying the passage of years since they left the forge. Yet their forms were exquisite, the bronze patina a rich, deep hue. Each stood on three legs, capped with lids inlaid with green gemstones, from which delicate threads of fragrance drifted, seemingly soothing one into sleep.

Beneath each burner was an inscription: "Made in the Xuande Era of the Great Ming."

"Who am I? Who is me?" A voice, soft as a mosquito's hum, issued from the child. In that moment, a tremendous transformation was unfolding within his mind.

Countless disjointed fragments surfaced in his memory.

"My son, come look at your father's champion," said a man in his thirties. He wore a robe of blue silk, luminous and smooth, every detail marking him as a man of status, though he looked the part of a learned scholar. Slightly rotund, his face was rounded, his long beard meticulously groomed. In his hand, he held