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

In the late autumn of the twenty-first year of the Yongle reign.

The autumn wind in Shuntian Prefecture grew stronger day by day, sweeping up the yellow leaves all over the streets, exuding a sense of desolation that penetrated to the bone.

At the foot of the imperial city, those once lush ancient locust trees are now just bare branches pointing straight to the sky.

With Zhu Di absent from court, the Eastern Palace was overwhelmed with paperwork, and the Wenhua Hall was brightly lit day and night.

In contrast, the library of the Bureau of Scriptures was a secluded paradise.

In the early morning, the water clock dripped water, making a crisp sound.

Gu Yannian, dressed in the blue official robes of a fifth-rank official, stepped into the pavilion with measured steps as the clock struck Mao Shi (5-7 AM).

He walked to his usual large sandalwood desk and skillfully ground ink and prepared paper.

[Ding! Today's attendance complete. Attribute point gained +1.]

Gu Yannian's mind stirred slightly.

A cool and refreshing energy rose from the dantian and instantly spread throughout the body.

This extraordinary power, beyond the reach of ordinary people, is entirely contained within the seemingly gentle and refined scholar's body.

If he were to exert his full power, his figure could transform into a swallow so swift that even its afterimage could not be caught, making murder and robbery a mere blink of an eye.

But he always knew the principle that the tallest tree in the forest will be felled by the wind.

He used most of his extraordinary abilities to do trivial chores to pass the time.

For example, amidst the fragrance of books in this room, brew a pot of fine tea.

The fire flickered, and the water in the earthenware pot gradually boiled, making a soft sound like the rustling of pine trees.

Gu Yannian pinched a pinch of this year's newly harvested Mengding Ganlu tea and put it into the pot, whereupon the aroma of the tea immediately filled the air.

Not far away, Yu Qian was engrossed in a mountain of old documents at a desk.

This young censor was exiled here for speaking frankly in his memorial to the throne.

After months of honing, its sharp edges haven't been smoothed out; instead, they've gained a sense of weight and maturity.

Hearing the sound of boiling water, Yu Qian put down his purple-tipped brush, rubbed his sore wrist, and sighed deeply.

"Lord Gu, listen to the sounds outside."

Yu Qian walked to the window and looked at the gray sky.

"His Majesty's northern expeditions over the years have depleted the national treasury. These past few days, I have been checking the land reclamation records in Shandong and Henan. In those areas, nine out of ten houses are empty, and the people are displaced, all in an effort to gather enough food for the army."

"If this continues, public resentment will boil over, and the fate of the Ming Dynasty will be in grave danger."

Gu Yannian picked up the earthenware pot, poured two cups of tea, and pushed one of them to the empty seat opposite him on the table.

"Tingyi, come over and have some tea to soothe your throat."

Gu Yannian spoke in a calm tone, as if he were discussing today's weather.

Yu Qian walked over, sat down, picked up his teacup, and drank it all in one gulp.

But his brows remained furrowed, and his eyes were filled with unwavering concern for his country and its people.

Gu Yannian also picked up a cup, gently blew away the foam, and took a small sip.

"Tingyi, do you know the key to brewing tea?"

Gu Yannian put down his teacup and pointed to the small red clay stove.

"If the water is not boiled, the tea's true flavor will not emerge; if the water is boiled too much, the tea will lose all its aroma and only bitterness will remain. The same applies to governing a large country. In today's world, Your Majesty is a man of great talent and ambition, and you wish to resolve the border troubles once and for all. This is like the raging fire at the bottom of the furnace."

"When the fire burns too brightly, the water in the pot will naturally boil and churn."

Yu Qian was a smart man and understood immediately, but he still felt indignant.

"But if this raging fire continues to burn, the water in the pot will boil dry, and won't this big iron pot burn through?"

Everything has its time.

Gu Yannian gazed into the distance at the rising steam.

"The moon wanes after it is full, and water overflows when it is full. A string stretched too tight will eventually loosen. You and I are but dust in this court, and some things cannot be rushed."

"You just need to cultivate your vast knowledge and upright character, and when the time comes for you to slowly and steadily develop your talents, you will naturally have the opportunity to make your mark."

After listening, Yu Qian seemed to be deep in thought.

He knew that this Gu Xima, though seemingly indifferent to everything, was actually a man of great wisdom and insight.

These words clearly imply that the days of militarism and reckless expansion will eventually come to an end.

"Your humble servant has learned much."

Yu Qian solemnly cupped his hands in greeting, his pent-up frustration dissipating considerably, and turned to continue copying the documents.

Gu Yannian nodded slightly and continued to flip through the "Classic of Mountains and Seas" in his hands.

He didn't want to get involved in the court's intrigues and preferred to remain a detached observer.

Offering a few pointers now and then is simply a way to build good relationships.

Time flies, and seasons change.

In the blink of an eye, it was already the twenty-second year of the Yongle reign.

That summer was unusually hot.

The air in Shuntian Prefecture seemed to have solidified, making it hard to breathe.

The imperial army has been fighting in the border regions for many months, and good news keeps coming.

However, the health of Emperor Yongle (Zhu Di) became the biggest concern for all the officials.

Inside the Wenhua Hall, Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi's breathing was heavier than usual.

His massive body was sunken into the wide dragon throne, his legs swollen terribly.

He could only keep his spirits up with the imperial physician's medicine every day, while dealing with the endless stream of memorials to be reviewed.

July 18th, night.

A swift horse, like a black lightning bolt, broke through the deep night of the capital and galloped straight into the imperial city, stopping outside the Wenhua Hall.

The knight on horseback tumbled to the ground, holding a gold medal signifying extreme urgency, and stumbled into the hall.

He carefully placed a secret letter, soaked with sweat, on Zhu Gaochi's desk.

Zhu Gaochi dismissed those around him and, with trembling, fat hands, tore open the sealing wax.

The letter was written in Yang Rong's own hand.

The handwriting is messy, clearly indicating that it was written in a hurry.

Zhu Gaochi glanced at it once, and he felt as if he had been struck by lightning; his entire body trembled uncontrollably.

His vision went black, and he nearly fell off the dragon throne.

Father Emperor has passed away!

The emperor who created the Yongle era of prosperity with his ruthless methods died on his way back to the capital at Yumu River.

The letter stated that it was to guard against a counterattack by the Mongol army beyond the Great Wall, and to prevent mutiny within the army.

Yang Rong discussed the matter with the eunuch Ma Qi and decided to keep the death a secret.

They cast a specially made coffin with molten tin to encase the deceased emperor's body and mask the smell.

Every morning and evening, meals were still delivered to the imperial tent on time, pretending that the emperor was still alive.

Yang Rong specially dispatched his trusted confidant to rush back to the capital overnight to report the news.

Your Highness, please make a swift decision to prevent any unforeseen circumstances.

Zhu Gaochi gripped the secret letter tightly with both hands.

He sat in the position of crown prince for twenty years in fear and trembling, guarding against the open and covert attacks of his younger brothers day and night, and enduring the unpredictable pressure from his father, the emperor.

Now, the sword that had been hanging over their heads has finally fallen.

But what followed was an even more dangerous and turbulent storm.

If the Prince of Zhao in the capital learns of this and seizes the opportunity to rebel, if the Prince of Han raises an army in his fiefdom, if those arrogant and unruly soldiers in the army refuse to submit to orders...

The Ming Dynasty could collapse at any moment.

Zhu Gaochi was panting heavily, large beads of sweat rolling down his face.

He forced himself to calm down, stood up with the help of the table, and dragged his heavy, swollen legs step by step toward the outside of the hall.

"Your Highness, it's late. Where are you going?"

The old eunuch on night duty quickly stepped forward to help him up.

"Go to the Bureau of Justice."

Zhu Gaochi's voice was hoarse, leaving no room for doubt.

In the dead of night, only a single lamp illuminates the library of the Bureau of Scriptures.

Gu Yannian was using the lamplight to flip through an ancient book on agricultural administration from a previous dynasty.

Hearing heavy, hurried footsteps coming from downstairs, he put down his book and stood up.

With the help of eunuchs, Zhu Gaochi climbed up to the second floor, panting heavily.

He waved for the eunuchs to leave, then slumped heavily into the armchair.

"Yan Nian, something terrible has happened."

Zhu Gaochi, his face pale, handed over the crumpled secret letter.

Gu Yannian took it with both hands and glanced at it.

My heart remained calm and undisturbed.

The wheels of history, in the end, rolled over Yumu River just as scheduled.

The once mighty Yongle Emperor has been reduced to cold words in the history books.