"Return to the palace." Emily Thompson directly interrupted Grace Howard, turned around, and walked off the stage. Reaching the bottom, Emily Thompson paused, then said without looking back, "Enter the palace tonight." With that, Emily Thompson left immediately.

The monks and officials all rose to see Emily Thompson off. Abraham Lincoln watched that figure, surrounded by the crowd yet especially lonely, and remained silent.

After Emily Thompson departed, the monks below the stage continued discussing the earlier scene of the Bodhisattva's manifestation. Abraham Lincoln was in no hurry to resume his sermon; he sat cross-legged and closed his eyes.

Thus, the journey west was settled. Although he felt this Guanyin was a bit unreliable, she did indeed bring the Buddha's decree, so there was nothing to doubt.

Abraham Lincoln had originally wanted to go out and see the world, to broaden his horizons—he could treat this as a long journey. Besides, Emily Thompson only had three years left to live, so causing a great commotion in the underworld wasn't realistic for now. But since Guanyin had agreed, with her character, she probably wouldn't deceive him.

Just now, when he punched Henry Cooper away, he more or less confirmed something: so-called immortals and Buddhas weren't all that different from demons. Demonic magic was ineffective against him, and even the golden light Henry Cooper used to slow the three ghosts had no effect on him.

Henry Cooper was just an attendant, likely not very powerful, so Abraham Lincoln still didn't know how strong the truly formidable immortals and Buddhas were, or how powerful the Buddha himself might be.

But no matter how strong they were, Abraham Lincoln didn't really care. Since the Buddha wanted to spread Buddhism in the Tang Dynasty, he probably wouldn't harm him. As for the Heavenly Court, he wasn't sure—he'd just set out and see.

Now, he was actually looking forward to the people he would meet on the journey to the West. He wondered if Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Samuel Carter would really be waiting for him along the way. Riding a white dragon horse on the road also sounded like a pretty interesting thing.

The sermon continued until evening. After it ended, Abraham Lincoln rode his white horse back to the imperial palace, where Charlotte Bailey, who had been waiting at the palace gate, welcomed him into the inner palace.

The evening banquet was still arranged in Emily Thompson's bedchamber. Abraham Lincoln sat cross-legged, and the low wooden table before him was filled with delicacies from the mountains and seas, even more sumptuous than yesterday.

Charlotte Bailey said that Emily Thompson was still handling state affairs and told Abraham Lincoln to sit for a while, then left the room.

Abraham Lincoln idly looked around the somewhat familiar bedchamber. The decor was rather elegant, with little of the vulgar bright yellow, and more of a purplish-red. Large red candles were lit all around, casting a warm yellow glow.

Before long, the door to the bedchamber opened. Just as Abraham Lincoln was pouring himself a cup of wine, he turned to look and his eyes lit up, a look of surprise appearing on his face.

It was Emily Thompson who entered, but instead of the usual purple-gold dragon robe, Emily Thompson was now dressed in a bright red robe that looked somewhat like a dress. The thin lips seemed to be touched with vermilion, and paired with that handsome face, there was a hint of enchantment. If it weren't for the long hair still tied up, Abraham Lincoln would have thought that if this were a woman, she would definitely be a peerless beauty.

The door behind Emily Thompson closed again. Emily Thompson walked up to Abraham Lincoln, looked down into his eyes, and said, "I forbid you to go to the Western Heaven."

"Didn't we already agree on this? It won't take that long to go." Abraham Lincoln looked up at Emily Thompson; this guy could be a bit temperamental sometimes.

"The journey west is one hundred and eight thousand li, full of demons and monsters. How can you possibly protect yourself?" Emily Thompson's expression was a bit cold, but the voice softened a little. "If you are with me, then three years is three years. If you die, what use is a hundred years to me?"

"We're both men—when you talk like this, it kind of scares me." Abraham Lincoln glanced at the goosebumps on his arm. Although he didn't want to ruin the mood Emily Thompson was creating, after hesitating for a moment, he still whispered, determined not to be bent.

Emily Thompson was slightly stunned, looked at Abraham Lincoln in silence for a while, then reached up to the white jade hairpin in the hair. "If I were a woman, would you be willing to stay?"

"No way..." Abraham Lincoln was dumbfounded as Emily Thompson's voice suddenly turned gentle and feminine.

Slender jade fingers pulled out the hairpin, and the black hair fell loose over the shoulders. A woman in a bright red dress, breathtakingly beautiful, appeared before Abraham Lincoln.

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Chapter 8: What Exactly Happened This Night

Clatter—the jade cup in Abraham Lincoln's hand fell to the ground and broke in two, but he didn't even notice.

Shock! Abraham Lincoln was truly shocked. Emily Thompson was actually a woman. The person he'd been brothers with for years, after letting down the hair, turned out to be a peerless beauty. He needed a moment to process and accept this fact.

When he first met Emily Thompson, Emily Thompson was still the second prince. The courage and methods displayed over the years since ascending the throne had never made Abraham Lincoln suspect Emily Thompson was a woman.

Abraham Lincoln suddenly recalled a shameless interview, where a man said if he turned into a woman, he'd let his brother have some fun first. Damn, you might be willing, but your brother, thinking the person lying in front of him is you, could he really go through with it? He probably couldn't even get it up!

But looking at Emily Thompson's absolutely beautiful face, Abraham Lincoln secretly breathed a sigh of relief. This proved that sometimes, when he found himself a little distracted by Emily Thompson, it was just a normal reaction.

"Answer me." Emily Thompson looked at Abraham Lincoln, the tone still brooking no refusal, but no longer the usual deep voice.