Journey to the West is pretty much like traveling to the land of the Indians, except along the way there are all sorts of strange and bizarre monsters, as well as demon immortals with ties to the gods.

Abraham Lincoln isn’t really afraid of monsters, but since he ate the Golden Cicada, if he meets the Buddha, would he get beaten to death?

Although he feels he’s not exactly weak now, when he thinks of that big shot who suppressed Thomas Jefferson with a single slap, Abraham Lincoln still feels there’s a bit of a gap.

Speaking of Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln suddenly grows curious about what that monkey who caused havoc in Heaven five hundred years ago actually looks like. Just grabbing a staff and daring to charge up to the thirty-third heaven, freezing the beautiful Seven Fairies and then turning to pick peaches—this is definitely the eccentric behavior of a hardcore shut-in.

At this moment, the door slowly opens. Two rows of beautiful palace maids, led by a court lady with a bare chest, file in gracefully, bowing in unison and saying, “We respectfully invite Your Majesty to change clothes.”

The leading court lady is named Charlotte Bailey, stunningly beautiful, about seventeen or eighteen years old. Her bright red palace dress perfectly accentuates her alluring figure, and the snowy white and faintly visible cleavage at her chest makes it hard not to steal a few more glances.

Withdrawing his gaze, Abraham Lincoln doesn’t feel any romantic stirrings in his heart, but he does find the name Charlotte Bailey strangely familiar, though he can’t recall where he’s heard it before.

The one who serves Emily Thompson most closely isn’t an old or young eunuch, but this top-tier beauty Charlotte Bailey, along with a group of handsome palace maids.

Of course, compared to emperors throughout the Tang dynasty, Emily Thompson can be considered a breath of fresh air among emperors. He actually selected the hundred most beautiful out of the ten thousand palace maids left by the previous emperor, and sent all the rest home, benefiting countless men across the land.

And the remaining palace maids are truly one in a hundred—each one a first-class beauty. Even that little maid over there holding a golden basin, if she were thrown into the biggest brothel in Chang’an, she’d be the top courtesan worth a fortune for a single night.

Although Emily Thompson is already eighteen, he still hasn’t chosen an empress. Aside from two noble ladies, there isn’t even a single imperial consort in the harem. If it weren’t for his iron-fisted methods intimidating the court officials these past few years, they’d probably be smearing themselves with ketchup to make a bloody protest by now.

Emily Thompson beckoned to Charlotte Bailey. When she walked up to him, he reached out his slender hand and groped her chest, then grinned smugly at Abraham Lincoln: “Want to know what this feels like? If you agree to stay in the harem, what’s mine will be yours.”

“Your Majesty, it’s almost time for the Water and Land Assembly.” Abraham Lincoln withdrew his gaze from Charlotte Bailey’s blushing face and said helplessly, his eyes inadvertently sweeping over the palace maids in the hall—none of them looked surprised, in fact, there seemed to be a hint of… anticipation.

“What’s the rush? If I’m not there, who dares to start? Whenever I arrive, that’s the auspicious hour, don’t you believe it?” Emily Thompson waved his hand, picked up the shiny kasaya from the sandalwood tray held by Charlotte Bailey, and gently shook it, producing a string of crisp, bell-like sounds.

Abraham Lincoln instinctively shielded his eyes from the dazzling jewels. The first thing that came to mind was the display boards of seaside vendors selling shell trinkets—except these trinkets were richer and more valuable.

“Look at this, just a shabby kasaya with a bunch of shells, stones, and bones hanging on it. Not only is it ugly, it’s five or six pounds heavier for no reason. That ugly monk actually wants to sell it to me for five thousand taels of silver. Isn’t he trying to cheat me? Stones like these are piled up like mountains in my treasury.” Emily Thompson said with disdain.

Abraham Lincoln took a closer look at the ornaments on the kasaya: emeralds, luminous pearls, wish-fulfilling beads, wind-calming pearls, red agate, purple coral… all sorts of treasures. Even if they’re piled up like mountains in the treasury, any one of them outside would be worth a fortune.

“Actually, five thousand taels isn’t expensive at all.” Abraham Lincoln spoke up in defense of Guanyin Bodhisattva.

“Whatever, expensive or not, it’s mine now. Come, Imperial Brother, let me help you change.” Emily Thompson ignored the rest, took the kasaya, and walked toward Abraham Lincoln.

Abraham Lincoln obediently untied his own kasaya and let Emily Thompson drape the new one over him. Going along with him would make things simpler.

But hanging five pounds of trinkets on a kasaya—this sense of fashion really isn’t something ordinary people can pull off. Walking out in this shiny getup is like announcing to the world: Come rob me!

“Though it’s a bit tacky, it’ll definitely turn heads.” Emily Thompson nodded in satisfaction, pressing his hand to his collar and smiling at Abraham Lincoln: “Imperial Brother, want to watch me change?”

“I’ll go wash up first.” Abraham Lincoln turned and walked out the door.

Emily Thompson watched Abraham Lincoln’s back as Charlotte Bailey undid his robe. Layer after layer of white silk wrapped around his chest, her slender fingers gliding gently, seemingly soft and elastic. He chuckled, “To miss an opportunity like this—what a fool.”

“Your Majesty, aren’t you going to be honest with the Master?” Charlotte Bailey draped the purple-gold dragon robe over Emily Thompson and asked softly.

Emily Thompson shook his head slightly. “I have my own plans for this.”

……

The endless procession set out grandly from the palace, heading toward Huasheng Temple.