The courtyard gate closed with a creak, and Sarah Parker said angrily, “Trying to take advantage of me? Dream on!”

Adam Thompson sat up, threw on a piece of clothing, and opened the door to step into the courtyard.

It was early spring, right in the midst of a cold snap. A thin layer of white frost covered the courtyard. Sarah Parker sat in a corner, carefully grinding medicine in a stone mortar with a pestle.

“Mother!” The word came out with difficulty—he needed something from her, so it was hard to speak. “I want to ask you something!”

Sarah Parker didn’t look up. “What do you want to ask?”

Adam Thompson hesitated. Asking outright what year it was would scare anyone.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve forgotten a lot of things!”

“I know. Someone hit your head so hard you don’t even recognize your own mother.” Sarah Parker replied irritably.

“What year is it?” Adam Thompson mustered his courage and asked.

“What did you say?” Sarah Parker looked up at him in surprise.

Adam Thompson scratched his head. “I mean, what’s the emperor’s name? What’s the era name?”

“Why do you care what the emperor’s called? He’s not your father. It’s the eighth year of Tianbao.”

“Ah! The eighth year of Tianbao.”

That was the reign title of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. He had actually arrived in the middle Tang dynasty—this was the golden age of the Tang! This seemed to be the era when Li Bai lived.

Back in high school, Adam Thompson’s favorite poet was Li Bai.

‘Heaven gave me my talents for a purpose; a thousand pieces of gold spent, they’ll come back again!’

‘Those who abandon me, yesterday is gone and cannot be kept; those who trouble my heart, today brings much worry.’

He was so familiar with these immortal verses, and now he could actually see his idol with his own eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

Who else? Yang Guifei, Li Longji, An Lushan… Suddenly, Adam Thompson realized: the eighth year of Tianbao—only six years until the An Lushan Rebellion. That meant chaos was coming.

But… what did chaos have to do with him? Adam Thompson looked at the three shabby little houses. Could troubled times make his situation any worse?

Maybe, chaos was actually his opportunity…

All sorts of thoughts and emotions surged in Adam Thompson’s heart—worry, unease, restlessness, and even a faint trace of anticipation.

“Stop daydreaming and come help your mother grind the medicine. We’re almost out of ointment—hurry up!”

Adam Thompson took the pestle, sat on a small stool, and started grinding medicine, his mind still wandering between this era and the coming chaos.

Suddenly, he felt a warmth in his arms. Looking down, he found a piping hot egg in his embrace.

“Hurry and eat it while it’s hot!” Sarah Parker turned and walked away.

Looking at the thin back of this Tang dynasty mother, Adam Thompson felt a pang of guilt. Even though this wasn’t his era, there was still someone who cared for him, loved him. Had he been too harsh with her?

“Hiss—hiss—” It sounded like someone was sending a secret signal.

Adam Thompson looked toward the sound and saw a chubby, round face appear over the courtyard wall, about thirteen or fourteen years old, full of concern. “Old Li, are you feeling better?”

Adam Thompson still had some fuzzy memories from the Tang dynasty, but they were vague. He just felt this chubby kid looked familiar, but couldn’t remember who he was.

Adam Thompson nodded. At that moment, Sarah Parker strode out of the house, hands on her hips, and scolded angrily, “You little fatty, Adam Carter was almost beaten to death, and you’re still not done?”

The chubby kid stuck out his tongue and ran off.

“Mother, who was that?”

Sarah Parker glared at her son. “They’re troublemakers just like you. Best if you forget them!”

Sarah Parker turned and went back inside.

Adam Thompson quickly walked to the low wall, craned his neck to look outside, and saw the chubby kid hiding behind an old locust tree. He had a big round face, small eyes and nose, only thirteen or fourteen, but already nearly 1.8 meters tall—tall and fat.

“Same time, same place!” The chubby kid turned and ran.

Adam Thompson gave a wry smile. What time was the “same time”? Where was the “same place”?

……

Sarah Parker was very busy. After tidying up the ointment, she went out to treat patients as usual, carrying her basket and her iron hammer.

Seizing an opportunity, Adam Thompson asked Mary Wood, “Auntie, today a chubby kid came looking for me, about my age. Who is he?”

Mary Wood was Sarah Parker’s mother’s dowry maid, who had looked after Sarah Parker for over thirty years. They weren’t mother and daughter, but their bond was as close as if they were.

Adam Thompson was also raised by her—she treated him like her own grandson.

Mary Wood smiled and said, “Looks like you really got hit hard. You don’t even recognize Little Michael Bolton, who grew up with you. There are more than ten others—they’re all your little brothers.”

“What does ‘little brothers’ mean?”

“You’re their gang leader!”

A word flashed through Adam Thompson’s mind: ‘mob boss!’

Did he really have a bunch of little followers?

He grew even more curious and quickly asked, “Auntie, who beat me up?”

“That… I can’t say. Your mother forbade me to tell you!”

“Then he told me ‘same time, same place’—when and where is that?”

Mary Wood shook her head like a rattle-drum. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything!”

“Who is my father? Auntie, you must know, right?”

Mary Wood’s eyes dimmed. She sighed and said, “I’ll go cook you some noodle soup!”