Sky Curtain: The opening scene explains the four major cases of the Ming Dynasty plus the early Ming

Under the sky.

In a parallel timeline of the 45th year of the Jiajing reign in the Ming Dynasty.

Xiyuan Study.

Emperor Jiajing (Zhu Houcong) leaned against the couch, his thin, bony hands resting on his knees, veins bulging. The tobacco in the bronze incense burner burned intermittently, the sulfurous smell mingling with ambergris, making the eunuchs in the hall afraid to breathe loudly.

He stared at the sky, his cloudy pupils reflecting the words Zhu Dijun had written: "Li Caifeng, the mastermind behind the theocracy."

"Crown Prince."

Zhu Houcong shouted, his voice as dry and cracked as sandpaper grinding iron.

Zhu Zaiji knelt below the palace, his knees numb from pressing against the gold bricks, and dared not move.

"What do you think of the Zhao King's descendant's opinion of Li Caifeng, the woman who sent you on your way, as seen on the sky? She's now your queen. Do you think she became your beloved queen as a commoner, or was she a spy cultivated for you?"

Zhu Zaiji's forehead was covered by floor tiles.

He hadn't been unaware of this question. In the sky, Zhu Dijun stripped Li Caifeng bare—her devotion to Buddhism and her association with Feng Bao, her undermining of imperial power, and her indulgence of her maternal relatives. How could a peasant girl from Tongzhou have so many schemes up her sleeve?

Her so-called identity as a peasant girl is definitely fake!

"Reporting to Father Emperor."

Zhu Zaiji's voice was very low.

"Your Majesty, I believe what the descendant of the King of Zhao said on the celestial screen is true. After I pass away in the sixth year of the Longqing reign, the shadow of this vile woman will be everywhere. What happened to my father and many of our ancestors will be exactly the same. This kind of tactic is not something an ordinary peasant girl could do."

Zhu Houcong raised his eyelids slightly.

"Um."

His thin, bony fingers tapped the edge of the couch.

"Gao Gong has a bit of a temper, but he's much better than people like Xu Jie and Zhang Juzheng. The balance you'll have to maintain in the future is up to you."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the rising, metallic taste.

"My days are numbered. I will eliminate any potential threats to you as soon as possible. I must not let history repeat itself, with me dying in the sixth year of the Longqing reign."

Zhu Zaiji's lips twitched.

He could naturally hear the barb in those words.

He died in the sixth year of the Longqing Emperor's reign—the official explanation being excessive indulgence in sex and wine. Zhu Dijun, in the film "Sky Curtain," put it more bluntly: "Adding just a little something extra to potent drugs can be fatal in a short time. Six years is enough time for many people to take action."

"Your subject...will humbly follow your father's teachings."

Zhu Houcong didn't say anything more and closed his eyes.

But his hands were not idle.

Three days ago, the Xu family mansion in Huating, Songjiang, was still hosting a birthday banquet. Today, the entire family has been executed. Zhang Juzheng's relatives fared even worse—the Zhang family of Jiangling, Huguang, not even their servants and accountants escaped. Students, disciples, and old friends—better to kill the innocent than let the guilty go free. Physical cleansing, swift and thorough.

The agents of the Western Depot worked for three days and three nights, and the prisons of the Ministry of Justice were packed with people. The blood from the execution ground seeped into the cracks of the floor tiles, and could not be washed away.

Zhu Houcong opened his eyes and looked at the dragon-patterned caisson ceiling on the palace beams.

"I cultivated Taoism for forty years, seeking immortality. In the end, my grandson couldn't even leave behind a complete will."

He chuckled, a laugh colder than the autumn wind outside the palace.

"Then I'll take advantage of my still-breathing breath and clean up these people first."

The eunuchs outside the palace knelt on the ground, their foreheads pressed against the blue bricks, none daring to raise their heads. They knew the emperor was about to kill someone again.

This time, it wasn't palace maids, Taoist priests, or imperial censors who were killed.

It is the root of the entire Jiangnan civil official group.

---

In a parallel timeline of the Ming Dynasty, during the 24th year of the Wanli era.

Cining Palace.

Empress Dowager Li's coffin remained in the main hall, not yet buried. White banners hung under the eaves, flapping loudly in the wind.

Zhu Yijun stood at the entrance of the mourning hall, not wearing mourning clothes.

He was wearing casual clothes, bright yellow, embroidered with dragon patterns.

The eunuchs and palace maids behind him knelt on the ground, none of them daring to look up at him.

"Someone come here."

Zhu Yijun spoke, his tone no different from when he usually reviewed memorials.

"Bring the ashes of Uncle Zhang and Feng Bao."

The hall was so quiet that you could hear the candle wicks popping.

"Buried together with Empress Dowager Li. Weren't they an inseparable trio? They were in life, and they are in death."

Wang Xijue, the Minister of Rites, who was kneeling in the mourning hall, suddenly raised his head and moved his knees forward two steps.

"Your Majesty, you mustn't! The Empress Dowager should be buried with the late Emperor; this is the ancestral law and a timeless ritual. To mix the ashes of a disgraced official into the imperial mausoleum would violate this law, and the scholars of the realm would surely—"

"Etiquette and rules?"

Zhu Yijun interrupted him.

He turned around and looked at Wang Xijue. It wasn't anger, but a coldness honed over twenty years, like flesh being cut by a dull knife.

"The laws of propriety. In the first ten years of my reign, during the early years of the Wanli Emperor's reign, a wicked woman colluded with the treacherous ministers Zhang Juzheng and Feng Bao to suppress me. In the fourteenth year of the Wanli Emperor's reign, I fell off my horse and injured my leg. Are you all aware of this, my beloved ministers?"

He raised his right leg and patted his knee.

"It's a pity I didn't die back then."

Wang Xijue's lips moved, but he didn't dare to reply.

"I am only avenging my father's death and the loss of my leg."

Zhu Yijun's voice was not loud, but every word resonated throughout the mourning hall.

"Could it be that one of you, my esteemed ministers, is an accomplice?"

As soon as those words were spoken, the temperature inside the hall plummeted to freezing.

Who dares to take this on?

Who would dare to say they were an accomplice of Empress Dowager Li, Zhang Juzheng, and Feng Bao? That would be tantamount to admitting their involvement in suppressing imperial power and plotting to murder the late emperor.

The ministers exchanged glances, their lips moved, but ultimately they said nothing. Wang Xijue lowered his head again.

He knew perfectly well that Li Caifeng's mission was complete. All that was needed was for her to provide her with final usefulness. The civil service could nurture one empress dowager; they certainly wouldn't lack another. What he feared was that this avenue would be blocked.

But right now, Zhu Yijun has the leverage that Tianmu gave him, so who would dare to mess with him at this critical juncture?

Zhu Yijun looked at the kneeling ministers and a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a smile, but a sense of relief, as if he had finally been able to breathe after being suppressed for twenty-four years.

"To have Li Caifeng buried with the Emperor? That would be an insult to the Emperor."

He turned and walked towards the coffin, reaching out to tap the lid. The wood made a dull thud.

"Uncle Zhang, Feng Bao, the three of you were inseparable in life, so don't separate us in death either. Dig a hole and bury us together. No need for a tombstone."

Several bolder eunuchs emerged from the corner, ready to make their move. Wang Xijue closed his eyes.

Zhu Yijun turned around and walked to the chair in the center of the mourning hall, where he sat down. This was the chair Li Caifeng used to sit in. He sat down and crossed his legs.

"Furthermore, the Empress's family members, relying on her name, are causing havoc on the common people. My esteemed ministers, let us discuss how to deal with them?"

There was a three-second silence in the hall.

Minister of Justice Shen Yiguan was the first to speak, his voice crisp and clear.

"Punish them severely according to the law."

Zhu Yijun looked at him and nodded.

"Very well. Marquis Li Wei of Wuqing is dead. But his son Li Wenquan and grandson Li Chengming, neither of them shall escape. Their property shall be confiscated, their stolen goods recovered, and they shall be imprisoned. For three generations, they shall be barred from participating in the imperial examinations."

He stood up, walked to the door, and looked back at the coffin one last time.

"Li Caifeng. You've calculated your whole life, but you never expected that I would outlive you."

The white banners fluttered in the wind.

Zhu Yijun stepped out of the Cining Palace, the sunlight outside making him squint. Twenty-four years had passed. From being forced onto the dragon throne as a mere decoration at the age of ten, to finally being able to bury those three people in the same pit at the age of thirty-four.

He has been gone for twenty-four years.

If Li Caifeng were alive today and saw this scene, she would probably turn to death.