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In the vast study of the Swiss Alpine manor, all was quiet except for the occasional crackling of firewood burning in the fireplace.

Suning had just finished reviewing Tiangong Auto's next phase of global expansion plans and was about to rest when a long-lost yet incredibly familiar voice suddenly rang out from the depths of his mind without warning.

The voice was neither male nor female, possessing a mechanical quality that transcended time and space, cold yet precise:

【ding dong】

[System energy is full; the host may travel to another location at any time.]

A new instance world has been generated. Please select:

Option 1: *Da Ming 1566* – A turbulent and unpredictable court intrigue.

Option Two: "The World" - Long years, the everyday life of ordinary people

Option 3: "Like a Flowing River" - Turbulent times, ups and downs in the business world

Option 4: The Awakening Era – Clash of Ideas, the Dawn of New Beginnings

Even though Suning has weathered many storms and his will has been tempered to be as firm as a rock, he couldn't help but be shaken at this moment.

He put down the documents in his hand, leaned back slightly, and sank into the large leather seat. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, as if he wanted to pierce through the void and see the secrets behind the system.

"Finally... it's happening again." He muttered to himself, his fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the armrest.

This system, which transported him through time, gave him an industrial space, yet caused him to lose his memory, has always been his greatest secret and trump card, as well as the root of his deepest desire to explore.

His gaze slowly swept across the four options, his mind rapidly analyzing the opportunities and challenges that each world might bring.

"The Human World"?
Too mundane and trivial, it offers limited benefits for him given his current circumstances.

"Like a Flowing River"?
He has already created a more glorious legend in the real world than the original story, so there is little point in him going there again.

The Age of Awakening?
While intellectual enlightenment is important, the struggle for national salvation in that era was grand in scope but arduous in process.

Ultimately, his gaze settled firmly on "Da Ming 1566".

“At the end of the Jiajing reign…” A glint flashed in Su Ning’s eyes. “The emperor was obsessed with Taoist cultivation, Yan Song and his son controlled the government, the national treasury was empty, and border troubles were frequent. But at the same time, it was also a time when many capable ministers emerged, such as Hai Rui, Xu Jie, Gao Gong, and Zhang Juzheng… a key point in the decline of a dynasty from prosperity to decline.”

A highly aggressive smile curved his lips: "In chaotic times, it's easier to snatch chestnuts from the fire and seize the greatest benefits. More importantly, the knowledge system of that era—the classics, histories, philosophical works, and the eight-legged essay—is actually the easiest for me to grasp and surpass. After all, I possess a vision and knowledge reserve that surpasses theirs by more than four hundred years!"

He barely hesitated before silently declaring in his mind, "I choose 'Da Ming 1566'."

[The host has selected "The Ming Dynasty 1566" and is about to travel through time.]

[Timeline location: 39th year of the Jiajing reign (1560 AD)]

[Identity Input: The host is an eleven-year-old student from Laizhou Prefecture, Shandong (Note: Qingdao was not established during the Ming Dynasty; its area belonged to Laizhou Prefecture), about to participate in the provincial examination (children's examination) of the fortieth year of the Jiajing reign.]

"A student from Shandong, eleven years old, taking the preliminary examination..." Upon receiving the specific information, Su Ning nodded slightly, feeling a sense of satisfaction with this initial identity.

This position was neither too high nor too low, which suited him perfectly.

As a scholar, he had the opportunity to participate in the imperial examinations and enter the system, but he was not from a wealthy and powerful family, thus avoiding the complex constraints within large families. This made it easier for him to operate covertly and start from scratch.

"The preliminary examination, to obtain the title of Xiucai (a scholar who passed the lowest level of the imperial examinations). This is the first and most fundamental step on the path of the imperial examinations." He quickly retrieved his memories of the Ming Dynasty's imperial examinations. "With my abilities, passing through each stage will be a piece of cake. The key is how to make a name for myself and attract the attention of some important figures..."

His mind had already begun to wander in another time and space: how to make use of the gold and modern knowledge in the storage space?
How to make connections with key figures of this era?
Will he follow the path of upright and honest officials, or become the mastermind behind the storm?

The system's cold countdown notification sounded in my mind.

Su Ning took a deep breath, picked up the internal communicator, and connected with Chen Xiaojun and Afu's joint line. His voice was calm and normal, without any hint of abnormality: "Xiaojun, Afu. I need to go on a long business trip, the timing of which may be uncertain. During this time, all company affairs will be decided jointly by the two of you, and executed according to the established policy. Do not disturb me unless it is a matter of life or death."

On the other end of the communicator, Chen Xiaojun was somewhat puzzled by the term "business trip," but she was already used to obeying Su Ning's orders.

"clear."

As for Afu, the AI ​​humanoid robot manufactured by Suning, it naturally knows that Suning must have spread rumors again.

After ending the call, Su Ning slowly closed her eyes, calming her mind completely.

He took one last breath of the era, a feeling of ultimate satisfaction brought about by the power and wealth to control everything.

"The Great Ming Empire..." he murmured to himself, a hint of anticipation mixed with disdain. "I've arrived. Let's see what kind of storms I, this anomaly, can stir up in your deep pool."

[The time-space portal has opened...]

[Time travel initiated...]

The next moment, a powerful pulling force acted on his consciousness and even the depths of his soul. In the study, his figure gradually became blurred and finally dissipated into the air like ripples.

The fire in the fireplace continued to burn quietly, as if nothing had happened.

Only the unfinished document lay quietly on the table, waiting for its owner's return sometime in the future.

And a journey through time and space spanning more than four hundred years has already begun.

In the turbulent final years of the Jiajing reign, a variable named Su Ning quietly arrived.

……

Winter of the 39th year of the Jiajing reign of the Ming Dynasty.

The sky over Beijing was a leaden gray, heavy as if frozen.

Since the beginning of winter, not a single snowflake has fallen.

The dry, cold north wind was like a knife, sweeping across the vermilion walls of the Forbidden City, stirring up clouds of dust, but bringing not a trace of moisture.

"No snow all winter..."

These four words, like a huge, cold stone, weighed heavily on the hearts of every courtier, and even more so on the seemingly magnificent but actually riddled-with-holes skeleton of the entire empire.

Years of famine, the threat of Japanese pirates in the southeast, and the threat of Tatars in the north have left the national treasury so empty that horses could run through it, while the taxes levied on the people have increased year after year.

In the Ming Dynasty, which believed in the "interaction between Heaven and Man," this unusual celestial phenomenon was undoubtedly the most severe warning of "divine retribution."

The 29th day of the twelfth lunar month marks the end of the year.

At this time of year, the palace and its surroundings would already be decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations in preparation for the New Year.

But this year, that joy has been replaced by an invisible sense of panic and oppression.

The palace servants walked hurriedly across the empty square, not daring to make a sound, as if afraid of disturbing something.

In the midst of this deathly silence, a figure, resolute in the face of certain death, stepped onto the imperial road leading to the Meridian Gate.

He was Zhou Yunyi, the Director of the Imperial Observatory.

Although their official rank was not high, they were responsible for observing celestial phenomena, calculating solar terms, and formulating calendars.

He wore a faded blue official robe and held a memorial he had already written. He was thin and his face was particularly gaunt from long-term worry. Only his eyes burned with a light that was almost like that of a martyr.

He walked to the Meridian Gate, straightened his clothes, faced the tightly closed palace gate that symbolized supreme imperial power, took a deep breath of the biting cold air, and spoke loudly.

His voice, though not loud, was exceptionally clear, piercing the dry, cold air and echoing across the empty square:

"Your subject, Zhou Yunyi, Director of the Imperial Observatory, risks his life to submit this memorial, weeping blood!"

"Since last year, the celestial phenomena have been warning us, with frequent anomalies! This winter, there has been no snow, which is unusual and is a sign from heaven to warn humankind!"

He suddenly raised his head, his gaze blazing as if he wanted to burn through the palace gate and reach the emperor deep within the palace, who was obsessed with cultivating Taoism and refining elixirs: "Why is the heavens angry? It is because the court's expenditures are excessive, and the palace is constantly holding religious ceremonies. A single jar of elixir costs more than ten thousand taels of gold! Why are the people resentful? It is because officials are rampant with corruption, mining supervisors and tax collectors are like tigers and wolves, and officials at all levels exploit the people, leaving them with nothing but blood and sweat. There are countless people selling their children on the streets!"

"Your Majesty! The calamity sent by Heaven is not for any other reason than the excessive spending of the court, rampant corruption among officials, and the suffering of the people, which has angered Heaven!"

Every word was like a heavy hammer blow, striking the hearts of all the eunuchs and guards present.

Their faces turned pale, and they dared not utter a word, inwardly sweating for the fearless official. "You audacious madman! How dare you spread rumors and slander the Holy Emperor in the forbidden palace!"

A sharp, chilling shout rang out.

Feng Bao, the eunuch in charge of the Eastern Depot, strode over, surrounded by a group of foreigners.

His face was fair, but his eyes were like those of a venomous snake, fixed intently on Zhou Yunyi.

"Zhou Yunyi, do you know your crime?" Feng Bao's voice carried the effeminate quality unique to eunuchs, yet it was chillingly cold.

Zhou Yunyi showed no fear and looked directly at Feng Bao: "Eunuch Feng, everything I have said is true. It is all indicated by the celestial phenomena and reflects the will of the people! What crime have I committed? Do you intend to silence the public and blind the eyes of Heaven?"

"Hmph! Eloquent words!" Feng Bao sneered. He was acting on the orders of Emperor Jiajing in the palace, and he absolutely could not allow such "opportunistic" remarks to spread. "I think you've gone mad from all your studying! Come on!"

He sternly ordered, "Zhou Yunyi has slandered the emperor and incited unrest. Drag him away and serve him a beating!"

The ruthless agents of the Eastern Depot swarmed forward and grabbed Zhou Yunyi.

"Feng Bao! You eunuch! You can kill me, Zhou Yunyi, but you can't kill the glorious Heavenly Dao! You can't kill the hearts of the people!" Zhou Yunyi struggled and shouted hoarsely.

The cold rod fell on flesh and blood, making a dull and cruel sound.

At first, Zhou Yun was still able to curse fiercely, but gradually, his voice weakened, leaving only the rhythmic sound of the court cane rising and falling, which was chilling.

Feng Bao stood to the side expressionlessly, as if he were watching a drama that had nothing to do with him.

The executioner checked Zhou Yunyi's breath and reported, "Reporting to Your Excellency, he's dead."

Feng Bao then slightly opened his eyelids, waved his hand as if brushing away a speck of dust: "Drag him away. Report to the Emperor, Zhou Yunyi of the Imperial Observatory has been brought to justice for spreading heretical rumors."

Zhou Yunyi's body was dragged away like a rag, leaving only a long, dark red bloodstain on the cold bluestone slab of the Meridian Gate, which looked particularly glaring in the dim light.

The dry, cold north wind continued to blow, stirring up sand and dust on the ground, trying to cover up the stench of blood.

There was no snow all winter; it seemed as if God had closed his eyes.

And so, an official who risked his life to remonstrate died on the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month outside the Meridian Gate, which symbolized the highest center of power in the empire.

His death did not bring a single snowflake, but it was like a heavy funeral bell, echoing eerily in this ancient imperial city and in the hearts of countless people who knew the truth.

This is not merely the tragedy of an official, but also the undeniable, bloody symptom of a dynasty entering its twilight years.

An even greater political storm is quietly brewing on this deathly quiet winter afternoon.

……

In the 39th year of the Jiajing reign of the Ming Dynasty, in Sujiawu, on the shore of Jiaozhou Bay, Laizhou Prefecture, Shandong Province.

This is a typical northern farmhouse, with blue bricks and gray tiles. Although not luxurious, it is well-maintained.

Golden corn cobs were piled up in one corner of the courtyard wall, strings of red peppers and cured meat hung under the eaves, and several plump hens strolled leisurely in the yard, pecking at the scattered grains.

Hanging in the center of the main room is a plaque that reads "Passing down the family tradition of farming and reading." The calligraphy is vigorous and was written by a scholar from the Su family's ancestor, becoming the foundation of this family's livelihood.

The head of the household, Su Shouzhou, was nearly forty years old. He had a dark complexion and rough hands. He was a skilled farmer and, in his spare time, he helped with weddings and funerals in the village. He was also good at writing and calculating and was quite respected in the village.

His wife, Zhou, was gentle and hardworking, and she took good care of the family's food and clothing.

They have three sons and one daughter: their eldest son, Su Ning, is eleven years old; their second son, Su Shun, is nine years old; their youngest son, Su Qian, is seven years old; and their youngest daughter, Su Xiuer, is just five years old, a time of innocent joy.

The rooster crows at dawn, and the first rays of sunlight appear.

Su Shouzhou and his second son, Su Shun, were already tidying up farm tools in the yard, preparing to go to the fields to check on the growth of the winter wheat.

Although he valued reading, he also knew that farming was the foundation of a family and never let his children be separated from farming.

"Shun'er, you need to sharpen the blade of this hoe so that you can work more efficiently in the fields." Su Shouzhou instructed his son while sharpening the hoe blade.

"I understand, Dad." Su Shun nodded vigorously, his little face full of seriousness.

The sound of reading aloud could already be heard from the east wing of the main hall.

That was the eldest son, Su Ning, sitting upright with a copy of "The Great Learning" spread out in front of him.

His voice was clear and bright, and his expression was focused.

The mother, Zhou, sat by the window, mending clothes in the morning light, listening to her son reading aloud, her face beaming with a contented and peaceful smile.

The youngest daughter, Xiu'er, curled up beside her mother, fiddling with a cloth tiger, occasionally glancing curiously at her brother.

Breakfast consisted of simple millet porridge, mixed grain pancakes, and a dish of pickled vegetables.

At the dinner table, etiquette prevailed, yet warmth was not absent.

"Ning'er, did you understand the lecture on 'King Hui of Liang, Part 1' by the teacher yesterday?" Su Shouzhou asked, taking a sip of porridge.

“Father, I have reviewed it several times and read Zhu Xi’s commentaries. However, I still have some questions about the distinction between ‘benevolence and righteousness’ and ‘profit,’ and I plan to ask you about it today.” Su Ning put down his chopsticks and answered respectfully.

“Yes, asking questions when you don’t understand is the way to learn.” A hint of approval flashed in Su Shouzhou’s eyes. Then he looked at his second son and youngest son, “You two should also be attentive and not just play around, lest you bring shame to our Su family.”

"Yes, Father." Su Shun and Su Qian quickly replied.

Zhou was busy serving the children porridge and vegetables: "Eat slowly, eat more. Ning'er needs to use her brain a lot for studying, and Shun'er and Qian'er have to go with your father to collect firewood this afternoon."

She patted her youngest daughter's head with particular affection, saying, "Our Xiuer is the best girl."

In the afternoon, Su Ning went to the village school to continue her studies.

Su Shouzhou then took Su Shun and Su Qian to a nearby hillside to gather firewood for the winter.

Zhou spun thread and did housework at home, while little Xiu'er followed behind her mother like a little tail, occasionally helping to hand her a ball of thread.

As dusk falls, wisps of smoke rise from the chimneys.

When Su Ning returned from school, he brought back news that his teacher had praised his writing for its improvement. A rare smile appeared on Su Shouzhou's serious face.

Su Shun and Su Qian also carried small bundles of firewood, their faces covered in sweat, but they enthusiastically recounted the interesting things they had seen on the mountain.

Dinner was more substantial than breakfast. Mrs. Zhou specially fried a plate of eggs as an extra treat for the children, especially Suning who was studying hard.

At the dinner table, the children chattered excitedly, sharing their day's experiences. Su Shouzhou and Zhou listened patiently, occasionally asking questions or offering pointers.

The flickering candlelight cast the family's silhouettes on the wall, creating a warm and peaceful atmosphere.

As night fell and the children went to sleep, Su Shouzhou and Zhou whispered under the lamp.

“Ning’er is a natural scholar, and the teacher says he has a great chance of passing the provincial examination next year.” Zhou’s tone was full of anticipation.

Su Shouzhou nodded, then sighed, "I hope he can live up to our expectations and bring honor to our family. It's just that education is quite expensive..."

“I know,” Zhou replied. “I’ll spin more thread and raise more chickens and ducks, and we can make ends meet. As long as our children are successful, it’s all worth it, no matter how hard or tiring it is.”

“Yes!” Su Shouzhou looked out the window at the deep night. “Farming is down-to-earth, while studying is about understanding principles and having a bright future. Our Su family does not seek great wealth and status, but only virtuous descendants and a peaceful home. This is the principle of ‘passing down the family tradition of farming and studying’.”

In the turbulent final years of the Jiajing reign, this small courtyard in Sujiawu maintained a rare harmony and tranquility.

Parents are loving, brothers are friendly, and sisters are harmonious.

For Suning, who possesses a modern soul, this simple yet sincere family affection is the warmest comfort for him to integrate into this era, and also the most solid support for his future path.

Furthermore, Su Ning knew that the imperial examination next spring was not only about his personal future, but also carried the hopes of his entire family of scholars and farmers.

...(End of chapter)