Chapter Forty-Six: New Year's Eve

When Li Kong emerged from the Palace of Supreme Harmony, it was already a quarter past nine in the evening. The sky sparkled with stars, and the streets were alive with joyful crowds. Li Kong could not help but grumble inwardly: Damn it, so late and not even a dinner, sending me home to starve?

In truth, it was not Li Shimin’s concern for Li Kong’s meal that prompted this; tonight was New Year’s Eve, when every household gathered for a reunion dinner. Even if Li Kong were to become Li Lizhi’s husband in the future, the tradition dictated he should eat at his own home, not the imperial palace.

In ancient times, the New Year’s dinner was of utmost importance—the only true family gathering of the year, surpassing even the Mid-Autumn Festival. Having an outsider at the table could be an ominous sign, suggesting that one’s fortune might be taken away in the coming year. So Li Kong, much to his misfortune, was sent out of the palace by a thoroughly satisfied Li Shimin, and walked alone toward the Duke of England’s mansion.

“Oh, my young master, you finally made it out! The lady is still waiting at home to have dinner with you!” Outside the Palace of Supreme Harmony, Lai Fu waited with a carriage, his face full of concern for Li Kong. He dared not voice any complaints against Li Shimin, so poured all his sympathy into Li Kong instead.

Li Kong cast a mournful glance at Lai Fu, jumped onto the carriage, and said, “What are you waiting for? Hurry up, I’m starving!”

“Alright, let’s go!” Lai Fu called out, whipping the horses into motion.

Inside the Palace of Sweet Dew, Li Shimin read over the memorials recounting Li Kong’s explanation of the new customs tariff regulations. He was greatly pleased and resolved to implement the plan after the New Year. The Tang dynasty was desperately poor at present. Though the Eastern Turkic Khaganate had been defeated, they were incredibly resilient, and despite a five-year plan, who could predict what might happen in that time?

Moreover, Tibet, Gaochang, Tuyuhun, Lingnan, and Goguryeo were all stirring restlessly. Time was running out for Li Shimin, so this time, regardless of opposition, he was determined to act decisively—even if it meant being reviled as a tyrant in future generations.

Of course, this was only Li Shimin’s private resolve. He had already decided that when the time came, he would bring Li Kong to the imperial court. He trusted Li Kong’s eloquence implicitly, and, if necessary, would let Li Kong confront the civil and military officials in a storm of debate. The thought was rather pleasing.

“Father, where is Brother Kong?” As Li Shimin was lost in his imaginings, Li Lizhi poked her head in, eyes filled with curiosity.

The joy that filled Li Shimin was instantly shattered, his face darkening as he gritted his teeth. “He’s gone home for dinner!”

Li Lizhi blinked in surprise, then laughed, running behind Li Shimin and placing her small hands on his shoulders, massaging lightly. “Oh, Father, how could you be like this? You are very important to me, you know!”

“Is that so? How important? More important than your Brother Kong?” Li Shimin’s mood brightened a little, and he looked at Li Lizhi with anticipation.

“Uh…” Li Lizhi was stumped, her little head spinning. She wanted to say her father was more important, but upon reflection, it seemed Li Kong’s importance had nearly overtaken her father’s. What to do? For the eight-year-old Li Lizhi, this was an almost unsolvable dilemma.

Lie? Sorry, as a young woman of the New Tang era, Li Lizhi would never lie.

Her silence caused Li Shimin’s hopeful face to cloud over once more. He stood up with a snort. “Let’s go, time for dinner!”

Li Lizhi stuck out her adorable tongue and clung to Li Shimin. “Father, you really are very important, but… but Brother Kong is just as important. I’m so conflicted, please don’t be like this, Father.”

“Really, just as important?” Li Shimin dragged Li Lizhi toward the Hall of Lin De without turning his head.

“Yes, really!” Having lied, Li Lizhi’s cheeks were flushed, but fortunately the cold weather concealed it. Otherwise, Li Shimin’s doting heart might have shattered yet again.

On New Year’s Eve, the curfew was lifted. The vast city of Chang’an was abuzz with voices; even late at night, the streets were packed with crowds brimming with delight. People laughed and chatted, discussing the events of the past year. The tale of Li Kong single-handedly driving back the Turks was especially popular, filling the martial-hearted citizens of Tang with pride. Some storytellers had even spun the story into anecdotes, performing them right there on the streets.

Listening to these conversations, Li Kong leaned against the carriage, his expression a mix of happiness and melancholy. Deep inside, a wave of nameless loneliness welled up.

It had been more than four months—nearly half a year—since he arrived here. Yet he still found it hard to believe he had transformed from a retired special forces soldier of the new century into the eldest son of Li Ji of the Tang dynasty.

“Enough. There’s no going back; this is my home now, my era. As long as I live, Tang shall have no regrets. For this goal, Li Kong, you must keep striving!” With this thought, the loneliness in his eyes faded, replaced by calm. He lifted the curtain and gazed out at the street.

On New Year’s Eve, after the reunion dinner came the tradition of staying up late. Yet in this era, it was not a written rule, and few truly kept vigil through the night. Most used the evening to gather with friends, for night activities in Tang were brief, especially during curfew when nightlife was almost nonexistent.

Watching the merry crowds and the peach wood charms lining the doors, Li Kong realized that even without fireworks or firecrackers, the festive spirit of the New Year was undiminished.

Suddenly, he remembered Li Yue’e at home and, impatient to see her, urged, “Lai Fu, you rascal, hurry up! Are you trying to starve me?”

“There are too many people, young master. If we go any faster, we’ll run someone over!” Lai Fu’s plaintive voice drifted from outside, shattering all of Li Kong’s urgency.

Bored, Li Kong lay back in the carriage. He cursed the comfort of the two-wheeled carriage; the jolting nearly made him vomit yesterday’s meal. He mused whether he should switch to a sedan chair next time—though it, too, was bumpy, surely it was better than this. Or perhaps… a four-wheeled carriage?

Sensing another opportunity for profit, Li Kong brightened, resolved to have four-wheeled carriages built after the New Year and sell them to the aristocratic families.

After half an hour of rattling along, Li Kong finally arrived at the gates of the Duke of England’s mansion. Seeing Li Yue’e waiting outside, all his loneliness and thoughts of his former life vanished without a trace. Especially when he met her worried gaze, his feelings surged beyond control. He strode forward, clasped his hands in salute, and said, “Mother, your son has returned!”