From the Ashes to the Throne: The Bloodstained Rise of a Commoner Emperor

I. From Humble Roots to Ruthless Power: The Crimson Path of Survival

1. The Instinct to Survive: Forged in Fire and Famine

At seventeen, I lost my parents and brothers to a devastating drought and plague in Haozhou. I curled up on a straw mat inside a crumbling temple, listening to wolves howl through the ruins. When Liu Jizu tossed me a burial plot for my family, I clenched my fists and swore: “One day, I’ll bend this world to my will.”

In the three years I wandered as a begging monk, I saw tax collectors whip pregnant women and landlords drag starving elders from their homes. These images burned into me like hot iron. In a world where the weak are treated like dirt, only power can rewrite fate.

2. Awakening to Power in a Broken World

When I joined Guo Zixing’s Red Turban Army, I was just a peasant soldier looking for a bowl of rice. But the moment I sliced down my first Yuan soldier, warm blood spattering across my face, I understood a brutal truth: in this chaos, might is the only law.

Factional struggles in Haozhou taught me caution. By the time I led 24 men to Dingyuan, I had already learned how to wield both fear and favor to control hearts. When Li Shanchang suggested I emulate Liu Bang, I scoffed, “Liu Bang never clawed his way from the gutter like I did. I won’t walk his path — I’ll carve one for those born with nothing.”

II. Empire Built on Iron: The Contradictions of Imperial Rule

1. Control Masking Insecurity

On the day I ascended the throne, my eyes lingered on the dragons carved into the imperial seat. I thought of the bald monk from Huangjue Temple.

I had my portrait painted with every pockmark intact — not from vanity, but as a warning: “Let the world remember — I rose from dirt. No one climbs by clinging to power without consequences.”

I do not kill for pleasure. I kill to clear the path for my sons and grandsons.

I herded oxen. I begged for scraps. I lived the cruelty of this world. In a land where lives are worth less than grain, the only protection is absolute power. That is why I rose. That is why I fought. That is why I rule.

2. Ruthless Efficiency in Governance

The Flying Fish uniforms of the Jinyiwei patrol the alleys. The bricks beneath the Meridian Gate are stained with blood.

Let the scholars call me a tyrant. When corruption dropped after I issued the Great Warnings, when border granaries overflowed thanks to military farming, I laughed. This empire is mine. Everything I do is for its lasting peace.

Even Empress Ma, before her death, pleaded with me to “kill less.” I wept, holding her hand. “I don’t enjoy this. But the empire is young, and threats remain. If I’m not ruthless, how can I protect it?”

I abolished the Chancellor role to centralize authority. I created secret agencies to monitor officials. I reshaped the exam system to mold minds. Let the Confucians fume. I care not for their scorn — only for a stable reign and peace for my people. I trust that history will judge me fairly.

III. Regret at Dusk: The Lonely Crown of Power

1. Blood on the Blade: A Price Too High

When 15,000 lives fell in the Lan Yu purge, I stood atop the city gate, watching blood flood the streets of Chang’an.

Xu Da’s daughter knelt before me, clutching her child. “Grandfather,” the boy whispered.

I remembered Xu Da kneeling at Ying Tian, pledging his life to me.

Why, Lan Yu, couldn’t you just restrain yourself? Why force my hand?

The empire was fragile. My heirs were young. These unruly generals — they reeked of ambition.

So I killed them.

Yet the palace grew quieter. And so did my heart.

I stood in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, whispering to the empty throne: “The empire is secure… but what have I lost to sit here?”

2. Legacy in Doubt: The Emperor’s Final Dilemma

When Crown Prince Zhu Biao died, I hurled the Ancestral Precepts of the Ming Dynasty to the floor.

Zhu Yunwen — he was timid, weak.

I feared the throne would slip from his hands.

The princes — wolves in silk.

I’d spent a lifetime slaughtering to clear the path. Yet in my final years, I realized I’d planted seeds of civil war.

As I rested my hand on the cold stone of my tomb, I remembered the mass grave in Haozhou.

I had risen from beggar to emperor.

But power had caged me.

How I longed for ten more years — just enough to secure the path for my grandson.

A Life Etched in Red: Glory and Tragedy Intertwined

Mine was a life of extremes — from dust to divinity, from barefoot beggar to Son of Heaven.

But it was also a tragedy paved in bone.

If I were given another chance, I might still wield the blade…

but with a touch more mercy, and a little less suspicion.

Yet no one gets a second reign.

All I can do is leave this crimson crown gleaming,

a warning — and a legacy —

forever shining over the skies of Ming.