Except for those two guys, Henry Grant and Andrew Grant, who plundered everything that should have belonged to me, forcing my mother and me to live at my uncle’s house, at least I know from the history in my mind that my little sister Emily Grant will, at the age of thirteen, marry Abraham Lincoln, that lolicon. And our biggest supporter, our uncle Edward Clark, will also, around that time, be convicted by Emperor Yang of Sui and exiled to Jiaozhi, which is now considered a wild and remote place.

In other words, the peaceful life my sister and I have will be completely upended by future events. Uh, could it be that because our uncle is about to be exiled to Jiaozhi, and he’s worried that my sister and I won’t be able to take care of ourselves, he hurriedly marries off my only thirteen-year-old sister to Abraham Lincoln?

Hmm, that’s very possible. So, working backwards, the time when my uncle is exiled for his crime is about a year from now. My sister and I will no longer have our uncle’s protection and will have to rely on ourselves.

Just thinking about how Abraham Lincoln actually married my cute and lovable little sister at the age of thirteen makes me furious. This guy is really a beast. Doesn’t he know that physiology and hygiene make it very clear that, regardless of gender, you don’t fully mature until at least eighteen, and some late bloomers need to be twenty or even older? Doesn’t he know to resist feudal traditions, pursue late marriage and late childbirth, have fewer children and raise them better… Uh, fine, even if he doesn’t understand the benefits of late marriage and childbirth, this is still just too much.

“Brother, you just woke up and you’re muttering again?” Just as I was worrying about the future survival and development of my sister and myself, a gentle and sweet voice interrupted my deep thoughts.

Turning my head, I happened to see my sister Emily carefully placing her brush on the brush rack, flexing her wrist, and looking at me with curiosity and concern.

“Was I?” I touched my mouth in surprise. This is a bad habit of mine—whenever I’m thinking, I unconsciously mutter to myself. Maybe it’s a habit I picked up from years of writing drafts. Whenever I wrote speeches for township leaders, I would always mutter them under my breath, and over the years, it became second nature. “What was I muttering about?”

“Your voice was so low, how could I hear clearly?” Sitting three steps away behind the desk, my sister Emily rolled her eyes at me and said, “Brother, how are you feeling today? Is there anywhere you still feel unwell?”

“No, really, nothing at all this time. Well, except for not remembering a few things, your brother is fully recovered.” I picked up the tea on the small table beside me, took a sip, and smacked my lips at the slightly gingery, spicy taste, smiling as I spoke.

Hearing this, my sister’s beautiful and youthful face showed a hint of helplessness. “Brother, the doctor said you have soul-loss syndrome. If there are still things you can’t remember, that means you’re not fully recovered.”

“Don’t listen to that guy, sis. I’m your brother—don’t you believe me?” Just mentioning that doctor makes me angry. I’m clearly a transmigrator, but that guy insists I have soul-loss, and insists on prescribing those bitter, eye-blackening medicines to torture me. Just thinking about it is infuriating.

But whatever, I’m at least a cultured, idealistic, and well-mannered transmigrated youth. I won’t stoop to arguing with an old man in his seventies or eighties. I can’t just lose it and force him to drink his own medicine in revenge, right? That would really ruin my image as a refined gentleman in my sister’s eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to drink the medicine, aren’t you?” My clever and adorable sister’s big, watery eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. It seems this little loli, not even twelve yet, has intelligence and judgment beyond her years.

……

Seeing that she was about to speak again, I quickly raised my hand to signal her to pause. “We can discuss that later when we have time. Right now, your brother has something important to discuss with you.”

“Really?” My sister Emily said, half believing, half doubting.

I was speechless, and after a while, I replied weakly, “Do you really think your brother would treat trivial matters as something important and discuss them with you so seriously?”

Emily gave me a rather disdainful look and said, “But the day before yesterday you also said you had something important to discuss, and it turned out you just wanted to ask where the latrine was. Yesterday you said you had something important to ask me, and in the end, it was still…”

I was angry. Why does this girl always have to expose my shortcomings? “Stop! Hey, hey, hey, are you still my sister? I’m your brother, you know. As the saying goes, ‘the eldest brother is like a father, the eldest sister-in-law is like a mother.’ The only reason I asked you those little things the past two days was because of my memory loss. Of course I had to ask you.”

“All right, brother, don’t be mad. I was just teasing you. You’ve seemed preoccupied these past few days, so I just wanted to cheer you up.” The little girl giggled softly, and her gentle words made all my anger vanish into thin air.