I have to say, although transportation in ancient times was underdeveloped, the roads in the capital were truly impressive. Once you left the ward, you’d find yourself on a broad avenue, every bit as wide as modern-day Chang’an Avenue in Beijing. We moved slowly along this grand road, and after about half an hour, we had already exited the city through Yanxing Gate, heading straight toward the lush, green banks of the Luo River, where the grass grew thick and wild.

“The scenery is really quite nice.” I stuck my head out the carriage window, gazing at the greenery stretching far into the horizon, meeting the clear sky, where only a few white clouds drifted lazily, leaving faint white trails that made the sky seem even more blue and spotless.

The place was bustling with tourists, and the endless stream of carriages and horses looked like a long dragon. It seemed that the Luo River in spring was a very popular spot for outings.

However, as we continued on, the crowds thinned. The only people we saw were hurried servants, and occasionally a few richly dressed, obviously wealthy or noble individuals riding tall, fine horses. It looked like this part of the scenic area was reserved for the elite to enjoy their excursions.

After walking a bit further, we saw a servant waiting by the roadside who came forward to greet Abraham Lincoln. “Second Young Master, you’re finally here. The Duke and Madam have already gone ahead for almost an hour. They asked me to wait here for you.”

Chapter 9: The Dashing Lady Li!

My sister and I also got out of the carriage. After straightening our clothes, we followed Abraham Lincoln forward, led by one of the servants. Our mounts, as well as Abraham Lincoln’s fine horse, were left behind. Benjamin Lincoln continued to play the role of bodyguard, following closely behind the two of us. I have to say, Benjamin Lincoln’s stamina is really impressive—he kept up with the carriage for over half an hour without even breaking a sweat. His endurance is truly remarkable.

Abraham Lincoln was still very concerned about my illness and asked in detail about my condition. I didn’t say much, but my sister answered fluently for me. Of course, when it came to my amnesia, she used some creative storytelling. I really admire my sister’s diplomatic skills.

“…Yes, yes, these days I still have some headaches, and sometimes I’m a bit forgetful.” I touched my forehead, playing along with my sister’s lie in a very serious manner.

Abraham Lincoln looked at me with genuine sympathy and comforted me, “Brother, don’t worry. With a bit more rest and care, you should recover soon.”

“Heh, I hope so. But if I make any mistakes later, I hope you’ll forgive me, dear brother.” Although I’d secretly practiced ancient etiquette at home for a few days, I was still not quite used to it. Besides, I was about to meet the future founding emperor of the Tang Dynasty, George Washington. I couldn’t afford to leave an impression of being a reckless and ignorant youth—that wouldn’t be good for me or my sister.

We chatted and joked as we walked, and after just three to five minutes, we saw, in the distance by the riverbank, a lush green meadow with several mats spread out. Men and women gathered on the mats, laughing and talking, and from time to time someone would raise a wine cup to invite others to drink.

Seeing this scene reminded me of the past—on weekends with good weather, I’d get together with a bunch of friends—well, a bunch of promising young people—and pile into a friend’s high-end Wuling minivan, heading out to the wild outskirts of the city to eat and drink. Even though it was just our own barbecue and a couple of cases of beer, the atmosphere was unforgettable, and I still savor those memories.

As we got closer, I saw a middle-aged, beautiful woman in a Hu-style outfit sitting upright on the central mat. Several young men stepped forward to offer her wine, each one looking especially respectful and humble. Yet, there were no men sitting on the central mat, which made me pause. Historically, Yang Guang once mocked George Washington for looking like an old woman, but no matter how much he resembled an old lady, he couldn’t possibly turn into a beautiful middle-aged woman, right? Could it be that George Washington, the future founding emperor of the Tang Dynasty, had a penchant for cross-dressing?

“It’s just my mother here. I suppose my father has gone to meet his colleagues. There are quite a few nobles out for a spring outing at the Luo River today.” Abraham Lincoln, explaining to my sister, didn’t notice my gossipy and bewildered look. Only then did I realize that this was the one and only legitimate wife of George Washington in history, Empress Dou, posthumously known as Empress Taimu.

At that moment, Empress Dou also noticed our group. She turned her face toward us, her warm smile beaming as she waved and called out, “Let’s see who my Erlang has brought with him.” Her voice was clear, strong, and full of energy—she really had the air of a multinational corporation’s CEO.

As she spoke, Abraham Lincoln quickly stepped forward and bowed first, “Your son greets you, Mother…” This guy didn’t even blush—clearly, he was used to this sort of thing.

My sister’s cheeks, on the other hand, were a bit flushed. She stepped forward gracefully and bowed deeply. “Wugou greets Aunt.”