I was to be executed by Zhu Yuanzhang, and Empress Ma smashed Zhu Yuanzhang's jade seal.

Outside the gate lay the desolate city of Jinling.

Inside the door, a grand funeral was about to shock the world.

Pairs of Imperial Guards dressed in white mourning clothes, holding soul-guiding banners, and with solemn expressions, filed out of the palace gates.

The pure white ceremonial guards, like two long white dragons, stretched from the depths of the imperial city all the way to the entrance of Chengtian Gate.

At the very center of the procession, sixteen burly Imperial Guard captains carried a massive dragon-patterned coffin made of Phoebe zhennan wood on their shoulders.

The coffin was covered with the Black Bird King Banner of the Ming Dynasty.

Lying inside is Zhu Muying, the Prince Ying of the Ming Dynasty, who had just been unjustly killed.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood on the city tower of Chengtian Gate, looking expressionlessly at the blinding white below.

Behind him stood Li Shanchang, Hu Weiyong, and a group of civil and military officials who had rushed over in a panic.

Shock and fear were written on everyone's faces.

None of them expected that the Empress's actions would be so swift and so significant!

This is no longer a funeral.

This is a national mourning!

They used the standards of national mourning to send off a "rebellious son" who was forced to death by the emperor himself!

This is a slap in the face to the emperor!

This is a slap in the face to the entire Ming Dynasty!

"She's gone mad... Her Majesty the Empress must have gone mad..." a civil official muttered to himself, his voice filled with fear.

Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent.

He just stared intently at the coffin made of Phoebe zhennan wood.

His mind was blank.

He didn't know what he should think or do.

Prevent?

What can he use to stop it?

His soldiers were either blocked outside the city or had been taken into control by Xu Da and his men.

He's now a lone commander.

Let it go unchecked?

If he just stood by and watched Ma Xiuying carry Zhu Muying's coffin out of the capital.

Just as he was struggling with this dilemma, the incredibly heavy hinges of Chengtian Gate creaked open with a piercing sound.

For the first time, the long, desolate street of Jinling City was fully revealed to everyone.

At noon in Nanjing, the city should be bustling with activity and a constant flow of traffic.

But today, Yingtian Prefecture has become a dead city.

The wide, bluestone-paved street was deserted.

The shops on both sides of the street were all closed, with even crisscrossing seals on the doors, as if they were trying to avoid a terrible plague.

The peddlers who used to carry their wares on shoulder poles, wandering the streets and alleys, hawking their wares, have disappeared.

Those high-ranking officials and nobles who used to travel back and forth in horse-drawn carriages have also disappeared.

The entire city fell into an eerie silence.

Only the wind, carrying a few withered leaves, swirled and whistled through the empty streets, adding to the desolate atmosphere.

However, beneath this deathly silence, countless pairs of fearful yet curious eyes are hidden.

Behind those tightly closed vermilion doors, behind those half-open windows, at the end of those deep alleyways.

They didn't know what had happened.

All they knew was that martial law had been in effect throughout the city since early this morning.

Squads of heavily armored soldiers, armed with long spears, blocked all the city gates and streets.

They don't allow anyone to come in or out; not even a fly can get out.

Immediately afterwards, all sorts of rumors spread like wildfire throughout the city.

Some say that the Mongols from the north have attacked, breached Shanhaiguan Pass, and are about to besiege the city.

Some say that a coup occurred in the palace, and that the Crown Prince, together with several dukes, placed the Emperor under house arrest.

But the most widespread and unbelievable one is the rumor about His Highness the King.

"Have you heard? His Highness the King... is dead!"

"Which His Highness? The one who helped us drive out the Mongols and guarded Yunnan, the God of War?"

"That's him! I heard that it was His Majesty himself who forced Prince Ying to commit suicide!"

"My God! This...this is impossible! His Highness the Prince of England is a great and loyal minister! He has rendered outstanding service to our Great Ming Dynasty, why would His Majesty want to kill him?"

"His merits are so great that they threaten the emperor's authority, don't you understand? There has never been any kinship in the royal family! His Highness the Prince's achievements are too great, so great that even the emperor can't sleep at night!"

"That...that's such a misunderstanding! His Highness the King is such a good person!"

These rumors stirred up a huge storm in the hearts of the people.

They were afraid, they were terrified, but more than that, they felt a deep sense of sympathy and anger.

For these ordinary people living under the emperor's nose, the emperor was too distant.

They don't know what imperial tactics or the stability of imperial power are.

All they knew was that Prince Zhu Muying was a hero.

He was a great hero who defeated the Mongols so badly that they cried for their fathers and mothers, allowing the people living on the northern border to live a few years of peace.

Now, this hero has been driven to his death by the very emperor he served so loyally.

How can they accept this?

Just when the city was in turmoil and people were filled with anxiety.

"when--!"

The tolling of the funeral bells, echoing from the depths of the imperial city, struck the hearts of every resident of Nanjing like thunder.

They didn't know for whom the bell tolled.

But in their hearts, the same name appeared simultaneously.

The Prince of Ying, Zhu Muying.

Everyone rushed from their hiding places toward the doors and windows closest to the main street.

They wanted to see for themselves whether the rumors were true or not.

Then they saw it.

I saw the Chengtian Gate slowly opening.

I saw the white ceremonial guard that stretched as far as the eye could see, extending from the imperial city.

They saw the incredibly heavy golden nanmu coffin with dragon patterns, carried by sixteen strong men.

After seeing the coffin, the Empress's phoenix carriage, drawn by six white horses and with its white curtains hanging low, came into view.

In that instant, all the discussions and speculations in the entire city of Jinling vanished.

Only the silence of death remained.

And a series of suppressed gasps of cold air.

it is true.

The rumors were actually true!

His Majesty the King is really dead!

The Empress herself actually held a funeral for him with the honors due to a state mourning!

What... what exactly is this supposed to do?

Is this a complete breakdown in relations with the emperor?

Is the fate of the Ming Dynasty truly about to change?

Nobody knows the answer.

They simply stared blankly as the solemn and sorrowful funeral procession slowly drove out of the imperial city and onto the main street of Jinling City.

The procession moved very slowly and heavily.

Every step he took touched the hearts of everyone.

The tolling of those funeral bells still echoes between heaven and earth.

It is a final elegy sung for that young hero.

Above the coffin, the Black Bird King Banner fluttered in the wind.

On it, the glorious achievements of the young general in conquering battlefields and expanding territory still remain.

He joined the army at a young age, fought countless battles, quelled the chaos in the southwest, and secured the vast territory of the Ming Dynasty in the south.

He did not vie for power or form factions, yet he held considerable military power and remained utterly loyal to the emperor sitting in Nanjing, never harboring any disloyalty.

Yet this was a pillar protecting the country, a loyal and righteous prince.

In the end, he was unjustly killed and died with resentment in his heart.

What a tragedy!

How ironic!

Looking at the cold coffin, the people hiding behind doors and windows on both sides of the street had tears in their eyes.

Some elderly people couldn't help but shed tears, kneeling on the ground and silently kowtowing towards the coffin.

They were not worshipping a prince.

They are worshipping the last vestiges of justice and humanity in this world.

On the city tower of Chengtian Gate, Zhu Yuanzhang watched the scene below with a somber expression.

He looked at the deserted street.

Looking at that blindingly white funeral procession.

He watched the coffin recede further and further away from him.

His hand gripped the crenellations of the city wall, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

He lost.

The moment Ma Xiuying decided to toll the death knell and carry Zhu Muying's coffin out of the capital, he had already lost.

A crushing defeat.

All his plans and schemes came to naught.

Now, he could only watch helplessly as his wife, carrying his son's body, went to receive the sympathy and mourning of the entire city of Jinling.

He, the emperor of the Ming Dynasty, could only be trapped on this high city wall like a prisoner, becoming a completely lonely figure.

An unprecedented sense of humiliation and anger surged within him.

He wanted to scream, to roar.

But he couldn't make a sound.

Because at that moment, a sudden change occurred.

The sky, which had been perfectly clear and blazing with sunshine, suddenly darkened in an instant.

Thick, dark clouds appeared out of nowhere, obscuring the sun's rays.

Immediately afterwards, a biting cold wind rose out of nowhere, swirling sand and stones as it swept across the entire city of Jinling.

This wind is not a summer wind.

Zhu Yuanzhang, standing on the city wall, couldn't help but shiver.

The civil and military officials behind him all looked on with surprise and uncertainty.

"What... what's going on? Everything was fine, how did the weather suddenly change?"

"Yeah, this wind...it's so cold..."

Just as everyone was discussing it.

A small, white thing drifted down slowly from the gloomy sky.

It landed right on Zhu Yuanzhang's nose.

It was icy cold and melted instantly.

Zhu Yuanzhang's pupils suddenly contracted.

He reached out and caught the second flower, the third flower...

That's nothing else.

That's... snow!

Heaven weeps blood, June snow falls.

snow!

It's snow!

It's the height of summer, the hottest time of the year, a time when the sun should be blazing and the heat should be intense.

But now, snowflakes are falling all over the sky above Jinling City!

How is this possible?!

On the city tower of Chengtian Gate, everyone was stunned by the unbelievable scene before them.

They all looked up, mouths agape, at the pure white snowflakes falling from the sky, their minds blank.

"It's...it's snowing?"

Snow in June? Good heavens! Am I dreaming?

"A strange phenomenon has occurred! This...this is a strange phenomenon from the heavens!"

An elderly minister with white hair suddenly remembered something, trembled, and knelt down with a thud, crying out with tears streaming down his face.

"Injustice! What a terrible injustice!"

"Since ancient times, snow in June has always been a sign of a great injustice! This is Heaven speaking out for His Highness the Prince of England!"

His shout was like igniting a powder keg.

Everyone realized what was happening.

Yes!

Snow in June, the injustice done to Dou E!

Anyone who has read a few books knows this story.

Now, His Highness the King has died unjustly and his body is still warm.

In Jinling City, a heavy snow fell against the natural order.

If this isn't a divine intervention, then what is it?

For a moment, the civil and military officials on the city wall no longer cared about the etiquette between ruler and subject.

They all knelt down and kowtowed heavily towards the receding coffin.

The last vestiges of awe they held for the emperor were utterly shattered by the heavy snowfall.

Instead, there is a fear that comes from the depths of one's soul.

Even God couldn't stand it anymore!

If they continue to follow this perverse emperor down this dark path, won't they be the next ones to suffer divine retribution?

Zhu Yuanzhang stood there blankly, letting the cold snowflakes fall one by one onto his face, melt into water, and slide down his cheeks.

He seemed to see Zhu Muying bowing to him and walking away.

In a daze, he recalled that dashing young man, wielding a silver spear and galloping across the battlefield.

He returned covered in blood, and before he could even remove his armor, he uttered only one sentence before fainting.

"Your subject has fortunately fulfilled his mission."

At this moment, Zhu Yuanzhang looked up at the sky filled with flying birds.

He let the snowflakes fall on his face.

He couldn't tell whether it was snow water or his tears.

"My son, he has truly left me."

When Zhu Yuanzhang saw Zhu Muying walking towards him, he still looked exceptionally dashing.

He reached out to grab his son.

But they came up empty-handed!

That boy.

It's gone!