The commotion outside his room woke Zhu Yijun, who was drowsy. He opened his eyes in a daze and saw a large bed with three-sided screen walls around it. The sandalwood bed frame was dark with a purple tinge, appearing ancient and profound, emitting an elegant sheen. In the candlelight, one could discern carvings of several five-clawed golden dragons.,"Ouch, that hurts." Zhu Yijun rubbed his forehead, as if he had bumped into something. He paused his rubbing, staring blankly at his delicate hands, unable to believe it. They were completely the hands of a child.,Having transmigrated into the highest emperor of the Ming Dynasty, at just ten years old, he transmigrated to January 19th of the Wanli year.。