"How is my son" a noblewoman asked, rushing in from outside. Behind her stood two rows of palace maids, standing silently, each holding a palace lamp and motionless, not daring to lift their heads.,The torrent of information in Zhu Yijun's mind finally ceased its influx. The images before him stopped flickering, and he understood the situation.,The ten-year-old emperor walked on eggshells, suspected by the ministers of being too young to rule. Unable to govern personally, he had little to do with the affairs of state.。