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

The Hongwu Era.

The floor of Fengtian Hall was permeated with the chill of late autumn.

Zhu Yuanzhang remained standing, his calloused hands gripping the edge of the imperial desk tightly.

On the emperor's desk, the memorials that had been neatly stacked were now scattered all over the floor in his fury, like a tattered fig leaf covering the Ming Dynasty.

He was looking at the sky.

He was looking at Zhu Houzhao, the grandson of the civil officials who had been cursed for hundreds of years.

As the sunlight slanted in from outside the palace, illuminating Zhu Yuanzhang's deeply lined face, Mao Xiang, who was guarding the door, was shocked to find that the founding emperor, who had killed countless people and never bowed his head, actually had red eyes.

A single, murky tear rolled down his dignified face and silently landed on the gold brick.

"It's not easy..."

Zhu Yuanzhang's voice was extremely hoarse, conveying a sense of weariness and bitterness that had spanned a century.

"Biao'er, did you see that?"

Zhu Biao stood to one side, his eyes also fixed on the sky, his voice slightly choked with emotion.

"Your subject is watching, your subject has seen it. Your fourth brother's descendants have truly had a difficult time. From Zhu Qizhen of the Ming Dynasty, who was falsely accused of being the 'gatekeeper emperor,' to Zhu Houzhao today, generation after generation has been fighting against the civil official group."

Zhu Yuanzhang turned around, pointing at the figure of the young man on the sky who was leading the "Eight Tigers" out of the Forbidden City and towards the Leopard House, his chest heaving violently.

"We used to think that if we killed all the corrupt officials and established the Great Proclamation, paving the way for future generations, then the country would be secure."

"We always felt that as long as the emperor of the Zhu family was tough enough, these scholars couldn't cause any trouble."

"But we've never sat in that spot!"

Zhu Yuanzhang pointed to the lonely fifteen-year-old boy in the sky, who was being strangled by the combined forces of the harem and the court.

"Look at this child, he opened his eyes and was surrounded by wolves who wanted to plot against him."

"He has to watch the Empress Dowager's expression before he eats a bite of food; he has to listen to the cabinet's instructions before he builds a house."

"That's not a palace! That's a cage specifically used to imprison the descendants of the Zhu family!"

Zhu Yuanzhang slammed his fist on the armrest of the dragon throne, making a dull thud.

"We initially thought this kid was a spendthrift, but now we realize he's defying fate!"

"He spent two whole years honing his skills to create these thousand Imperial Guards who would obey his orders, and to build this Leopard House that would allow him to finally breathe a sigh of relief!"

"He was just a fifteen-year-old kid, and right under the noses of those old foxes who had lived for decades, he painstakingly saved up his own money and built up his own foundation bit by bit."

"This kind of life is even harder than when we were begging for food at Huangjue Temple!"

Zhu Yuanzhang's breathing became rapid, and the murderous glint in his eyes that had been there turned into heartache at that moment.

As the founder of the Ming Dynasty, he knew best the suffocating feeling of trying to survive in dire straits.

He understood every move Zhu Houzhao made.

That's not absurd, that's survival.

That was so that he wouldn't become a "sage ruler" like his father, Zhu Youcheng, who was suffocated by civil officials.

"What happened to the Eight Tigers? What happened to the rootless servants?"

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at the trembling civil officials kneeling below with a cold smile.

"If our descendants are surrounded by these 'disciples of the sages' who spout ancestral teachings but actually line their own pockets, then we'd rather they be surrounded by these mad dogs who only obey their orders!"

"Good bite!"

"Bite these beasts who dare to use our name to bully our great-grandson to death!"

On the other side of countless worlds and timelines.

The Jiajing Era.

West Garden, Yongshou Palace.

At this time, Zhu Houcong was not yet completely obsessed with alchemy and immortality. He was in his prime, and his eyes still held an undiminished political ambition.

He sat on the prayer mat, the dharma bell he had been holding in his hand deformed from the force he had used.

He stared intently at his cousin, who was full of vigor and confidence, on the sky, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

There was a dampness, a feeling shared by those who were of the same bloodline and who had also entered the Forbidden City as local princes.

But more than anything, there was an indescribable sense of regret and lingering fear.

"Cousin, you truly are the greatest warrior of all time, and also the greatest strategist."

Zhu Houcong murmured softly, his voice carrying a hint of coldness.

"But you're too hasty, you're really too hasty."

"You built the Leopard House in an attempt to use violence to tear apart the web of the civil service."

"But now that I'm sitting in this position, I realize that this net cannot be torn apart."

Zhu Houcong looked at the figures of civil officials on the sky, who, though terrified, still harbored sinister malice in their eyes.

He knew that these people's ancestors had been slaughtered in the Zhengde reign, their blood flowing like rivers.

But they will not disappear. Like weeds and mold, they will regrow in the shadows as long as the Ming Dynasty needs the bureaucratic system to maintain itself.

"You use the Eight Tigers as your sword, and I will use 'rites and laws' as my shield."

"You used the Imperial Household Department to kill people, so I will use all these civil officials to bite each other."

Zhu Houcong sighed softly.

"I wonder if my future will outlast yours by a few more years."

"The emperor's throne is truly the hottest iron in the world."

Meanwhile, in the more distant Zhenguan era of the Tang Dynasty.

Li Chengqian, who had been deposed as crown prince, was huddled in a cold corner of the imperial palace.

He raised his head, gazing up at the sky, his eyes gleaming with an unprecedented fervor.

That's envy.

That was longing.

"Zhu Houzhao... he actually dared to do that?"

Li Chengqian's voice trembled.

He thought of himself.

He thought of the civil officials who surrounded him all day, criticizing his improper demeanor, his fondness for riding and archery, and his heavy reliance on non-Han people.

Behind those old men stood the Cui family of Boling and the Lu family of Fanyang.

They kept claiming it was for the sake of the Tang Dynasty, but in reality, they just wanted to mold Li Chengqian into a puppet who perfectly served the interests of the powerful clans.

His father, Li Shimin, was a vicious dragon that no one dared to look directly at.

The colossal dragon was awe-inspiring, but its immense power also cast an ever-present shadow over Li Chengqian.

"My father was a hundred times better than Zhu Houzhao's father, but the civil officials I faced were also more ruthless than those in the Ming Dynasty."

Li Chengqian gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

"They not only have scriptures, but they also have blood ties and family lineages spanning thousands of years."

"Zhu Houzhao, you must win!"

Li Chengqian screamed wildly in his heart.

He watched Zhu Houzhao review the troops in the Leopard Chamber, and saw the flags of the Inner Depot fluttering fiercely in the wind. It was as if he saw the life that should have belonged to him, a life of joy and vengeance.

"Don't be like your weak father, and don't worry about reputation!"

"Be steady, be even more steady!"

"As long as you have soldiers under your command, as long as you have people willing to die for you, don't look back!"

Li Chengqian's tears finally welled up and spilled out.

That was a yearning for a power that was both extremely free and extremely confrontational.

That was the last, resentful cry of the successor to the throne before being strangled by the literati's code of conduct.

It wasn't just Li Chengqian, but also Liu Ju, Emperor Xiaozong of Song (Zhao Shen), Emperor Jingzong of Tang (Li Zhan), Crown Prince Li Ying, and others. They all deeply empathized with Zhu Houzhao's similar experiences and desperately wanted to win. Even if they lost, they wanted to take a piece of his damned civil official group (powerful clans) to show them that the imperial family could not be humiliated! And that he himself could not be humiliated!