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“How is my son” The noblewoman ignored the eunuch’s greeting completely, rushing to Zhu Yijun’s side. She trembled as she reached out and took hold of the ten-year-old child's hand, gently opening the wound.,Having transmigrated into the highest emperor of the Ming Dynasty, at just ten years old, he transmigrated to January 19th of the Wanli year.,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."。