Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

Zhao Si emerged from the shadows of the bookshelf like a shadow, bowing and saying:

"Prime Minister, everything has been arranged at the Prince Xin's residence. All the guards at the nine gates have been replaced, and tomorrow morning, Chen Dayuan will lead his troops into the palace to search for the imperial edict."

Gu Yannian picked up the herbal tea next to him and took a sip casually.

"The fish are all caught in the net, so let them struggle a bit more. As for the imperial edict, Wang Zhen, following my instructions, hid it among the beams and pillars of the warm pavilion long ago; they won't be able to find it."

Gu Yannian put down his teacup, looked out at the snowy night sky, and calculated the distance.

"The Prince of Cheng's 30,000 iron cavalry should have already left the pass."

A warm yet cold smile appeared on Gu Yannian's lips.

"Order the Embroidered Uniform Guard's hidden sentries. Starting tomorrow, all beacon towers within fifty li of the capital must be extinguished. If any large number of cavalry are spotted heading south at any of the post stations along the route, they must not be stopped or alerted."

Zhao Si felt a chill run down his spine.

The Prime Minister intends to have the Prince of Cheng's army appear before the Prince of Xin as if divine soldiers had descended from the heavens.

This was the most fatal blow to those treacherous officials who dreamed of becoming emperors.

"Your Majesty understands. However... the Imperial Medical Academy reported this evening that His Majesty's pulse is extremely weak and he may..."

Zhao Si hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Gu Yannian remained silent for a moment.

The image that flashed through his mind was of a man who, since the age of seven, had been made to cry in front of an abacus by him, but who eventually grew into an iron-fisted emperor who protected the Ming Dynasty's assets.

Although Zhu Qizhen was stingy, irritable, and even somewhat neurotic throughout his life.

But in the end, he did not fail the Ming Dynasty.

"Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the cycles of nature. I can ensure the prosperity of the Ming Dynasty for generations to come, but I cannot save the lifespan of a mere mortal."

Gu Yannian's voice was calm, revealing neither joy nor sorrow.

He stood up, walked to the charcoal brazier in the study, and threw the several secret letters he had already read into the fire.

Watching the flames devour the letter and turn it to ashes.

"Go and stand guard outside the Qianqing Palace. Once the palace's death knell tolls, this grand drama of dynastic change will officially begin."

"Let me see just how cunning Prince Cheng's murderous scheme really is, the one I forced to dig underground for four years."

On the eighth day of the eleventh month of the fifteenth year of the Zhengtong reign, dawn broke.

The snow stopped, and a pale, faint light appeared on the horizon.

Inside the East Warm Pavilion of the Qianqing Palace, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Zhu Qizhen lay quietly on the dragon bed, his eyes closed.

His breathing was so weak that his chest barely rose and fell.

Wang Zhen knelt by the bed, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, his tears long since dried up.

He gripped the small sandalwood abacus that Zhu Qizhen had used for half his life tightly in his hand, his fingers trembling.

Suddenly, Zhu Qizhen's eyelids twitched slightly.

Then, miraculously, he opened his eyes.

Those originally cloudy and dim eyes now shone with an unusual brilliance, as if they were experiencing a final burst of light before death.

"Wang...Wang Zhen..."

Although Zhu Qizhen's voice was hoarse, it was much clearer than it had been a few days ago.

"Your Majesty! This servant is here! This servant is here!"

Wang Zhen was so excited that he rushed forward.

Zhu Qizhen turned his head with difficulty, his gaze falling on the abacus in Wang Zhen's hand, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"An abacus...give it to me..."

Wang Zhen quickly stuffed the abacus into Zhu Qizhen's withered hands.

Feeling the familiar texture of the sandalwood, Zhu Qizhen's eyes became incredibly calm.

He used the last of his strength, slightly raised his thumb, and gently flicked the bead at the very edge of the abacus upwards.

"Clatter".

A very soft, crisp sound, yet it was remarkably clear in the deathly silent warm room.

"Not a single coin...not a single one...Taicang...is full..."

Zhu Qizhen murmured these words, a satisfied expression on his face.

As soon as he finished speaking, his hand, which had been fiddling with the abacus, fell limply onto the quilt.

The sandalwood abacus also slipped off and landed on the footrest with a clatter.

The eyes of Zhu Qizhen, the legitimate emperor of the Ming Dynasty, which had calculated the wealth and resources of the entire nation, slowly closed and never opened again.

Wang Zhen stared blankly at the emperor on the bed, remaining motionless for a long time.

It wasn't until the imperial physician stepped forward, his hands trembling as he checked her breath, that her knees buckled and she knelt on the ground.

"His Majesty... has passed away..."

The heart-wrenching cries instantly shattered the dawn over the Forbidden City.

The heavy, solemn tolling of the funeral bells rang out from the bell and drum tower.

"Clang...clang...clang..."

One sound after another, long and drawn out, spread throughout the thirty-six wards of the capital and reached the Ming Dynasty land covered by wind and snow.

Inside Prince Xin's Mansion.

Upon hearing the death knell, Zhu Qijun sprang up from his armchair, his eyes blazing with wild joy.

"It's done! The Emperor has passed away!"

He drew his sword from his waist, raised it high, and roared at his trusted generals in the hall:

"Chen Dayuan! Proceed according to plan! Lead the troops into the palace immediately!"

"Yes, sir!"

Meanwhile, on the official road 300 li north of the capital.

Thirty thousand Datong cavalrymen were advancing across the snow-covered plains like a black lightning bolt.

Horse hooves flew, kicking up clouds of snow.

Zhu Qiyu rode at the very front, facing the biting cold wind. His face, weathered by the winds and frosts of the borderlands, was filled with a chilling and murderous aura.

In the capital, in this life-or-death game, Zhu Qiyu has arrived!

The 8th day of the 11th month of the 15th year of the Zhengtong reign.

The death knell of the Forbidden City tolled.

The distant and somber tolling of the bell struck the hearts of the people of the capital city again and again.

The wind and snow stopped, and the world was covered in a vast expanse of white.

The pure white snow and the sound of bells intertwined, giving this centuries-old capital an air of solemnity.

Prince Xin, Zhu Qijun, wore a dark gold mountain-patterned armor and a bright red scarlet felt cloak, riding a tall horse.

He looked up at the gray sky and listened to the lingering sound of the funeral bell.

I felt every pore on my body open up, exuding an indescribable sense of comfort.

"Your Highness! The matter is settled!"

Chen Dayuan, the military commander of the Beijing garrison, rode up to them, lowering his voice but his tone was full of undisguised elation.

"This humble servant, leading three thousand elite troops of the capital garrison, has taken complete control of Xuanwu Gate and Donghua Gate. Strangely enough, the palace guards are unusually lax today."

"Our men encountered almost no decent resistance. When the guards at the gate heard that the emperor had died, they all dropped their weapons and fled in all directions."

Zhu Qijun sneered, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and his brows were full of arrogance and self-satisfaction.

"What's so strange about that? I've said it before: the Emperor has been stingy and miserly all these years, hoarding the silver in the imperial granary so tightly that those in charge can't even get a penny of extra income. Who would be willing to risk their lives for him?"

Zhu Qijun raised his riding whip and pointed to the majestic Forbidden City ahead.

"This is what they call the will of the people! The Mandate of Heaven has already fallen to me!"

He turned around and looked at the rows of fully armed rebels behind him, their eyes gleaming with greed.

He drew his sword sharply and shouted:

"Soldiers! Follow me into the palace! When I ascend the throne, I will open the imperial granary! Everyone who follows me today will be rewarded with one hundred taels of silver and promoted three ranks! As for the mansions and beautiful maids in the capital, I will not be stingy with them!"

"Long live the Prince! Long live the Prince!"