Damn heavens, you actually made me the son of Abraham Lincoln!

Bah, I have my own strategies—why should I fear The Lincoln Era!

Drunkenly lying in wild abandon, singing loudly, laughing as I watch beauties with red sleeves.

So many heroes of the moment, all fall into my grasp.

Fine horses, robes worth a thousand gold—yet all I seek is a night of revelry at Zhangtai, sword in hand pointing distantly at the Palace of Penglai.

Chapter One: I Became the Son of Abraham Lincoln

In a spacious room, curtains hung high, and on the innermost bed lay a child with delicate, jade-like features, face up, while two women held a few exquisite little toys, coaxing him with beaming smiles.

“Your Highness, be good, call out ‘Mother’!”

“As long as you say ‘Empress Mother,’ I have some sweet cakes for you here!”

After a long while with no response, one woman couldn’t help but complain to the other: “Why do you keep nagging so much? Just call out to His Highness by his ear every day, and eventually he’ll say it naturally!”

The other woman immediately muttered, “He’s already over a year old—of course Her Majesty wants to hear the Sixth Prince call her sooner. Even the Fifth Prince didn’t speak until he was two, and didn’t that make people gossip behind his back at first?”

Though he lay on the bed, minding his own business, he heard every word of their bickering, and couldn’t help but feel impatient. Looking at his own delicate, chubby little hands, he was nearly in tears. When he woke up half a day ago and discovered this situation, he almost went mad, and when he furiously wanted to curse, the result was a heart-wrenching, ear-splitting wail—and then a swollen nipple was stuffed into his mouth.

He could still recall that strange taste, and that long, horse-like face. Thankfully, that was the wet nurse, not his real mother, or he really would have lost it.

These two women kept trying to coax him to call out “Empress Mother”—could it be he’d ended up in some imperial palace of some dynasty, as a prince? The kind of plot he’d only ever seen in novels was now happening to him—heavens really do have eyes! He wanted to show a teeth-gritting expression, but remembering he didn’t even have teeth now, he grew even more resentful!

Damn heavens, why did you make me into a child who can’t even speak!

“Greetings, Your Majesty!”

The four words drifted into his ears just as he was lost in thought, and seeing a grand procession of beautiful women enter, he was instantly stunned. These two women had been talking about “Her Majesty” all along—could the newcomer be his real mother now?

A pair of hands reached out, and he felt himself being picked up. Not by the big-breasted, milk-rich wet nurse, but by a beautiful woman radiating mature charm. Judging by how everyone else stepped back and dared not look up, and by her luxurious attire, it was clear his mother wielded considerable power.

Her temples were perfectly neat, several jeweled hairpins sparkled atop her head, and in the center was a coronet. Her hair was neat and fresh, with a pleasant fragrance. The hands holding him were very fair, smooth and delicate to the touch—clearly pampered. Her high, full bosom also looked soft and springy, and out of curiosity, he reached out his chubby little hand.

After poking twice with his fingers, he sensed something was off. Looking up, he saw her watching him with a half-smile, and immediately panicked, pulling his hand back and sitting still. But soon after, he cursed his own stupidity—what mother would mind her own child’s wandering hands, especially when the child couldn’t even talk?

A nearby palace maid immediately flattered, “Your Majesty, His Highness is so adorable—so young and already knows to be close to his mother!”

Seeing the beautiful woman smiling as she carried him to sit by the bed, and not putting him down, he tentatively reached for her neck, babbling as he tried his best to control the throat muscles of this new body, but still couldn’t form a single word. Since he’d had the bad luck to transmigrate to this sunless place, if he couldn’t even win his mother’s favor, how would he survive in the future?

The beauty’s expression clearly softened, and he felt a few gentle pats on his back. In return, he immediately giggled. Adults are most defenseless against a child’s smile, and sure enough, it worked—the beauty’s face lit up with joy, but she still asked the others, “Has he spoken yet?”

“Uh… please forgive us, Your Majesty!”

Seeing his mother’s face darken, a hint of disappointment in her eyes, he really wanted to call out, but all that came out was meaningless babble. He quickly gave up on this pointless effort and began to ponder.

Judging by the many voluptuous, scantily clad women around, it was probably the Tang Dynasty, though he couldn’t rule out some completely unfamiliar era. But even if it was the Tang, that history was long—just which prince was he now?

“Your Majesty!”

Curious, he turned his head and saw a eunuch-looking fellow rush in, flustered, and immediately pricked up his ears.

“Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Samuel Clark—they’re at it with His Majesty again! They absolutely refuse to depose the Empress, and oppose appointing Your Majesty as Empress. In court, they spoke outrageously, saying some very unpleasant things!”

Boom—