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

In the seventh year of the Hongxi reign, late autumn.

The autumn wind in Shuntian Prefecture was even more brisk than in previous years.

The yellow leaves, like fluttering butterflies, fell gently onto the glazed tiles of the Forbidden City, adding a touch of historical weight to this solemn and majestic imperial palace.

Since the implementation of the vigorous "using commerce to support industry" policy in the fourth year of the Hongxi reign, the national fortune of the Ming Dynasty has been like oil being poured on a raging fire, flourishing and prosperous.

The Grand Canal, which runs through the north and south, has long been dredged and widened by merchants.

Every day, grain transport ships and merchant ships carrying goods lined up end to end, their white sails obscuring the sun.

The Taicang silver treasury of the Ming Dynasty was expanded again and again, and the amount of silver piled up was staggering.

When the world is at peace, the people have full granaries and know proper etiquette.

The Imperial Academy in the capital was filled with the sound of students reciting their lessons every day, presenting an unprecedented scene of prosperity.

Inside the Ministry of Revenue, the delicate fragrance of osmanthus blossoms drifted in on the breeze.

At the exact moment of Mao Shi (5-7 AM), the lingering sound of the morning drum slowly dissipated in the sky.

Gu Yannian was dressed in a crimson robe of a third-rank official, the peacock insignia on his chest gleaming in the morning light.

He sat upright in the Right Vice Minister's office, and steadily wrote his name on the signature book.

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

"Add to the spirit."

Gu Yannian silently recited this in his heart.

After decades of refinement, beneath this seemingly frail scholar's exterior lies a boundless and profound power.

He put down the purple brush, took out the smooth and shiny sandalwood abacus from his sleeve, and casually placed it on the table.

On a small red clay stove nearby, spring water was just beginning to boil, bubbling and gurgling.

He skillfully pinched a pinch of this year's autumn tea and put it into the cup, then poured boiling water over it, and the aroma of the tea filled the air.

"Lord Gu, my back and waist are aching even more today."

The curtain was lifted, and Xia Yuanji, the Minister of Revenue, walked slowly into the duty room.

Over the past three years, the old minister's hair has turned completely white, his face is covered with brown age spots, and his figure has become much more hunched.

Time waits for no one.

This old minister, who had devoted his entire life to the Ming Dynasty, had finally grown old.

Gu Yannian quickly got up and helped Xia Yuanji to sit down on a guest chair, then poured him a cup of warm tea.

"Your Excellency, please take care of your health. You only need to steer the Ministry of Revenue; leave the trivial matters to me and the heads of the various departments."

Xia Yuanji picked up the teacup, his hand trembling slightly. After taking a sip, he let out a long sigh.

"I know my own body well. A few days ago, I submitted my resignation to the Emperor for the fourth time."

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid you won't be able to keep me this time. The position of Minister of Revenue will be yours sooner or later."

Gu Yannian sat down behind the desk again, his expression calm and serene, gently stroking the edge of the abacus beside him.

"Your Excellency is too kind. I am used to being lazy and only look forward to leaving the office at dusk. I would never dare to take on such a difficult task as managing the nation's finances."

Xia Yuanji pointed at him, smiled helplessly, and was about to say a few more words of advice.

But then they heard extremely hurried footsteps coming from outside the courtyard.

"Lord Gu! Minister Xia!"

The visitor was Linghu An, the chief steward of the inner court.

The position of Grand Steward of the Inner Court in the Ming Dynasty was not that of an ordinary eunuch, but rather a trusted civil official appointed by the emperor, who was in charge of the inner court's secrets and secretarial duties.

Linghu An had a sparse beard and wore a scarlet fourth-rank official's robe, but his official hat was askew as he ran.

He was covered in sweat, and his expression revealed an undisguised fear.

Upon seeing this, both Gu Yannian and Xia Yuanji felt a slight sinking feeling in their hearts.

"Steward Linghu, what's the matter that you're so alarmed?"

Xia Yuanji stood up, using the handrail for support.

Linghu An, panting heavily, took a step forward, his voice low but trembling with barely suppressed emotion.

"My lords, please come with me to the palace. His Majesty... His Majesty suddenly fainted before the morning court session. All the imperial physicians from the Imperial Hospital went in and managed to revive him with acupuncture."

"The first thing the Emperor said upon opening his eyes was to summon Minister Gu and Minister Xia to the Qianqing Palace immediately to accompany him!"

"Bang!"

The teacup in Xia Yuanji's hand fell to the ground and shattered.

The old minister swayed and almost fell, but Gu Yannian caught him firmly.

"Has His Majesty been following Lord Gu's advice these past few years, maintaining a light diet and cultivating his health, and his body has always been very robust? How could he suddenly..."

Xia Yuanji's voice trembled.

Gu Yannian frowned slightly.

With over two thousand points of spiritual perception, he had already sensed that Zhu Gaochi's life force had been slowly and irreversibly dimming over the past six months.

Using medical knowledge from later generations, he enabled Emperor Hongxi, who was originally only supposed to reign for ten months, to live for nearly seven more years.

During these seven years, Zhu Gaochi implemented benevolent policies, repaired the Grand Canal, established the Imperial Academy, and stabilized the border regions.

Although he gave up overeating.

But the mountain of political affairs in the Ming Dynasty was ultimately draining his already meager vitality day by day.

Seven years is the limit of what human beings can do to defy fate.

"Minister Xia, this is not the time to press for answers. Enter the palace immediately."

Gu Yannian spoke calmly, supporting Xia Yuanji, and together with Linghu An, they quickly walked out of the Ministry of Revenue and boarded the carriage that was already waiting outside.

The carriage sped along the bluestone road.

The wheels rolled on, crushing the fallen leaves all over the street.

Gu Yannian sat in the carriage, looking out the window at the passing streets of the capital.

Bustling shops and peaceful, contented people.

All of this was achieved by the emperor, who lay on his sickbed, through seven years of painstaking effort.

He altered a part of the historical script.

But the inevitable cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death is something that mortals cannot escape.

Outside the Qianqing Palace, the atmosphere was as heavy as solidified lead.

The three thousand guards completely surrounded the palace, their weapons and swords gleaming, creating an atmosphere of impending doom.

Outside the palace gates, Grand Secretary Yang Shiqi, the Minister of War, and other high-ranking officials of the court all waited anxiously with worried expressions.

Upon seeing Gu Yannian and Xia Yuanji arrive, the officials quickly made way for them.

Linghu An led the two into the bedchamber.

The hall was filled with the strong smell of medicinal soup and a suffocatingly oppressive atmosphere.

Before the imperial bed, Crown Prince Zhu Zhanji, clad in golden armor, with bloodshot eyes, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist.

It was as if they wanted to slay that invisible disease.

Several white-bearded imperial physicians knelt on the ground, trembling, not daring to even breathe.

"Your humble servants Gu Yannian and Xia Yuanji pay their respects to Your Majesty."

The two bowed deeply before the bed.

On the dragon bed, Emperor Hongxi, Zhu Gaochi, struggled to open his eyes.

His face had a sallow, ashen appearance.

Her once full cheeks were now deeply sunken, and her breathing was extremely weak, like a flickering candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.