In his previous life, Henry Thompson was just an ordinary man, someone who ran around everywhere in pursuit of fame and fortune. In order to gain his boss’s favor, and for the chance of promotion and a raise, he left early and returned late every day—truly rising earlier than the rooster and sleeping later than the dog. He was actually quite lucky; at least his hard work was rewarded accordingly, and he gradually climbed from the bottom of the company to the upper management, becoming the object of envy among those around him.

Just as Henry Thompson was basking in his success, his wife asked him for a divorce. After nearly ten years of marriage, Henry Thompson was always busy with work and had no time to care for his wife. They didn’t even have children because of his job. His wife had grown tired of this kind of life, and her deep feelings for Henry Thompson had been worn away, so she finally asked for a divorce.

Faced with his wife’s request, Henry Thompson went through anger, confusion, and bewilderment, but in the end, he painfully chose to let go. After the divorce, to numb himself, he threw himself into work even more obsessively. One night, while working overtime, he finally died suddenly in his office. At that moment, Henry Thompson thought his life was over, but to his surprise, when he woke up again, he found himself in the early Tang Dynasty, more than a thousand years ago.

“Phew~ It’s now the fifth year of Wude, the Great Tang has just been founded, most of the warlords from the end of the Sui Dynasty have been pacified, and the rest are no longer a threat. Li Yuan is the emperor, Li Shimin is helping his father defend against external and internal threats, Li Jiancheng is still the crown prince, and the Xuanwu Gate Incident is still a few years away. Next comes the famous Zhenguan era, and who knows if Wu Meiniang has even been born yet?” Henry Thompson muttered to himself as he walked.

He knew the course of history better than anyone, but he had no intention of getting involved. In his previous life, he had been too busy, always living under the gaze of others, and felt exhausted both mentally and physically. Now that he finally had a chance to be reborn, he decided to live for himself, to do things he enjoyed—tending flowers, fishing, lying down when tired, sleeping when sleepy, making up for everything he missed in his past life. This was the life he wanted.

“It’s decided. I’ve traveled back more than a thousand years just to enjoy life. To hell with work and all that!” Henry Thompson finally said to himself with a relaxed expression.

As he spoke, he walked out of the bamboo grove and saw a great river flowing before him. This river was the Huangqu, drawn from Zhongnan Mountain. A dozen or so miles downstream was the capital city of Chang’an, and the Huangqu eventually flowed into one of Chang’an’s most famous scenic spots—the renowned Qujiang Pool. There, many scholars liked to place their wine cups in the water and play a game called “floating goblets along winding water.” In other words, if Henry Thompson were to pee in the river, people downstream might end up drinking water mixed with his urine while enjoying their wine.

Walking a few dozen meters further downstream along the Huangqu, a small river branched off from it. On this side of the river was the courtyard where Henry Thompson lived; on the opposite bank was a tiny village of only five households. All five families were tenant farmers of Henry Thompson’s household, making a living by renting and farming several dozen mu of land under Henry Thompson’s name. This was also Henry Thompson’s only source of income in his previous life.

The sun had just begun to rise, and already tenant farmers were working in the fields. A group of ragged children played by the river. Even though it was already late autumn, most of the children wore only oversized, tattered single-layer clothes—clearly altered from adult garments. Quite a few even went barefoot on the frost-covered ground, their little feet blackened and blue from the cold, snot running down their dirty faces, but they didn’t care at all, running around with their companions until they were sweating.

Henry Thompson even saw with his own eyes a child of about six or seven, holding a dark, cornbread-like thing, running and gnawing at it. The child tripped and fell, dropping the cornbread, and a skinny mongrel dog darted over and snatched it up. Before the dog could swallow it, the child pounced on the dog like a starving wolf, pried the cornbread from its mouth, and kicked the bony dog aside, then began to enjoy his hard-won prize like a victor.

Seeing this scene across the river, Henry Thompson suddenly felt as if something was blocking his heart. The child with the cornbread had a big head and a small body, looking just like a refugee from Africa in modern times. Even though he was only eating a piece of cornbread snatched back from a dog, the way he ate made it seem like he was tasting the most delicious food in the world. The other children around him even looked at the cornbread with envy.

Henry Thompson hadn’t expected the so-called prosperous Tang Dynasty to look like this. But on second thought, it wasn’t surprising. It was only the fifth year of Wude, the Tang had just been founded, the chaos at the end of the Sui Dynasty hadn’t fully ended, and the people of Guanzhong had only just settled down. Being able to eat a full meal was already a great blessing; as for anything else, they couldn’t afford to care.

With a heavy and complicated mood, he returned to his residence, which was actually just a simple little courtyard: three main rooms with side rooms on either side, surrounded by a half-person-high wall. There had once been flowers and plants in the yard, but now it was late autumn, and all the plants had withered, leaving only some dead branches and leaves standing in the courtyard.