On the Fortunes of the Great Ming Dynasty and the Imminent Death of Emperor Tianqi

On the waters ten miles beyond the capital city, aboard a luxurious floating palace, a man dressed in exquisite robes savored the rarest Da Hong Pao tea from Wuyi Mountain.

As he breathed in the fragrance of the tea, he gazed out at the river scenery through the window.

"Prophet, you mentioned that the daughter of my destined match would save me thrice."

"With my current state, it is simply inconceivable to face peril easily, let alone be rescued by a woman thrice," the man remarked.

This man was none other than Wan Sanqian, the wealthiest man in the realm.

Seated beside Wan Sanqian's table was a middle-aged man with eyes covered by a black cloth, and his head full of white hair.

He reached out his hand, effortlessly lifted the teacup without any obstruction, took a delicate sip, and said, "Brother Wan, all things are possible. Your destined match is about to appear."