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He slowly stood up, looking around. Above him were intricately carved beams and painted pillars, beneath his feet lay a floor of golden bricks. Behind a screen depicting five-clawed golden dragons was a long writing desk. On either side of the desk were two crane-shaped palace lamps, their flickering light casting swirling smoke. The cold air of late autumn, scented with sandalwood, blew across his nose.,"The child suddenly sprang up to dodge, knocking over tables and chairs before hitting his head. The palace maids and eunuchs outside heard the commotion and rushed in. Before the child fainted, he only saw the assassin jump out of the window and flee. When he woke up, Feng Daban was there.",The atmosphere had reached its peak. Emperor Zhu Yi, with great effort, squeezed out a few tears and comforted her: "My son is the emperor of the Ming Dynasty. My son is not afraid, nor does he need his mother to fight desperately. When my son grows up, I will fight them myself. Mother, please don't cry. If you cry again, your son will cry too."。