Chapter 7: Until the Eighth of September Next Year

“Wasn’t it supposed to be leisurely? Teaching these unruly children is anything but peaceful.”

He had no objection to Wen He serving as an advisor, but being a teacher to these wild kids? Not in a million years.

However, Li Shimin would not entertain his protests.

After leaving the study, Li Shimin led him straight to the backyard.

Along the way, Li Shimin explained his reasoning.

“Since you come from the future, you must possess knowledge beyond what we have today. I do not require you to teach them much, only to let them know what lies ahead.”

Wen He followed behind, surprised by these words.

He had clearly underestimated the ancients—especially Li Shimin.

To elevate a dynasty on the brink of collapse to its peak glory, one’s ambition and vision must be extraordinary.

Forget the claim that the Tang inherited the Sui’s legacy. Yang Guang’s three campaigns against Goguryeo had already bankrupted the Sui.

At the end of the Sui dynasty, the price of a grain measure reached ten thousand cash; even after years of recovery, the price only dropped to a hundred.

Yet by the fourth year of the Zhenguan era, the price was merely three to four cash per measure.

Isn’t that a staggering difference?

Without lofty vision and resolve, how could he have avenged the Wei River alliance in just three years?

He captured Xieli first and had him dance in praise of his merits.

Though spoken so confidently, Wen He still hadn’t figured out exactly what he was to do.

All those time-travel novels he’d read said to teach emperors dragon-slaying techniques, but he didn’t even know what that meant.

He certainly couldn’t indoctrinate Li Chengqian, Li Tai, and the others with modern ideas.

If he did, there’d be no need for Li Shimin; Changsun Wuji would have him buried alive.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Wen He cautiously asked.

“Do what you think you can.” Li Shimin replied calmly.

What kind of answer was that?

But since the words came from him, if things went wrong, Wen He knew he couldn’t come complaining later.

It’s just taking care of children—never done it before, but haven’t we all been kids once?

As a post-90s kid, Wen He had no smartphones or games like PUBG or Honor of Kings. After school, he simply played with the neighbor’s children.

Earlier, Li Shimin had sent someone to invite Changsun Wu to bring Li Chengqian, Li Tai, and Li Ke.

They were waiting in a secluded courtyard connecting the front and back yards.

“You will stay here for the next few days. Do not leave for now,” Li Shimin said, pointing to the gate.

“What about my sister?”

Being confined here would be bearable, but he still had a sister.

If he wasn’t home, that steward under Li Yuangi might stir trouble again.

“I have already sent someone to fetch her.”

After hearing about Wen He’s sister, Li Shimin had dispatched a steward to bring her over.

Relieved, Wen He smiled and thanked Li Shimin.

Li Shimin merely shook his head indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in his eyes.

“You say your soul is from the future. If that’s true, why are you so concerned about that girl?”

“Maybe... I’m just a good person,” Wen He scratched his head.

He now inhabited the original body and naturally had to bear its responsibilities.

Besides, the young girl was fragile. If he ignored her, wouldn’t she be left alone and defenseless?

Li Shimin hadn’t expected such an answer and chuckled softly, no longer pressing the matter. He pushed open the door.

Inside the courtyard, a beautiful woman dressed in a blue palace gown was instructing the maids to tidy the area.

Three children clustered around her—two older ones and a smaller, chubby boy.

At the sound of their arrival, all three turned their heads simultaneously.

The woman smiled back gracefully.

“I pay my respects to Your Highness,” said Changsun Wu in a formal bow.

The three children behind her stepped forward timidly, glanced at Li Shimin, and respectfully cupped their hands: “We pay respects to our father, Your Highness.”

The two older boys were clearly well-trained in etiquette, their movements precise and serious.

The little chubby one mimicked his two older brothers awkwardly, looking rather comical.

“Thank you for your efforts,” Li Shimin said tenderly, taking Changsun Wu’s fair wrist in his large hand.

Changsun Wu smiled lightly. “It is but the servants’ work; I merely give instructions.”

“There have been many troubles lately, so you must work harder at the residence. Oh yes, let me introduce someone to you.”

Li Shimin naturally held Changsun Wu’s hand, their intimate gesture unashamed in front of others—a perfect picture of conjugal affection.

Wen He felt a pang of regret in his heart.

“What a fine lady, and yet she ended up with Li Shimin—the scoundrel.”

Li Shimin’s deep affection for Changsun Wu was undeniable, but to call him faithful was a colossal joke.

Just in historical records alone, there were three or four concubines—Yang Fei, Wei Guifei, Xu Hui.

“Hello, sister. My name is Wen He.”

Before Li Shimin could introduce him, Wen He stepped forward and introduced himself.

Hearing the child address her as “sister,” Changsun Wu was startled, turning to Li Shimin: “Your Highness, who is this child?”

She had no misunderstandings—if this were Li Shimin’s illegitimate son, such familiarity would be unlikely.

“Nonsense! Sister my foot!” Li Shimin glared irritably, then softened his tone as he turned back to Changsun Wu.

“This place has been prepared for him and his sister. Please take good care of them in the residence.”

Changsun Wu scrutinized Wen He curiously.

Catching her gaze, Wen He smiled with the innocence of a child.

She suddenly recalled that when her brother had asked her to personally serve tea in the study, this child had been there as well.

She wondered why Li Shimin and her brother cared so much for him.

Suppressing her doubts, she smiled at Wen He: “Young master, if you have any needs in the residence, feel free to send someone to find me.”

“Thank you, sister.”

Wen He imitated the bows of Li Chengqian and the others.

Being called “sister” again, Changsun Wu covered her mouth and giggled softly.

All women enjoy being complimented on their youth and beauty—even the virtuous Empress Changsun Wu was no exception.

“You little rascal, my children are about your age. How about...” Her beautiful eyes flicked toward Li Shimin, her thoughts stirred, and she smiled slyly, “Call me ‘aunt.’”

“That won’t do; that would make you sound old. The Prince of Qin and I are lifelong friends—we’re peers.”

Wen He noticed Changsun Wu’s hesitation and knew she had misunderstood something.

“Better call her ‘auntie’ then. He just acknowledged Fu Ji as his father, after all.”

Li Shimin chuckled, pleased yet inadvertently frightening Changsun Wu.

“He is brother’s...”

“No!” Wen He hurried to clarify. “That was a slip of the tongue. Sister, the Prince of Qin, Fu Ji, and I are all peers.”

“Peers?” Changsun Wu eyed Li Shimin suspiciously again.

“Ahem.” Li Shimin knew she wasn’t jealous, but bringing a child into the residence and placing him here in the back courtyard without explanation inevitably raised doubts.

If not clarified, he might have to spend the night in the study.

“This young man is precocious. He once studied under a renowned teacher. Though young, he knows quite a lot. I intend for him to enlighten Gaoming, Qingque, and Sanlang.”

“Ah!”

Changsun Wu blinked, stunned for a moment, then looked down to examine Wen He carefully.

Though handsome and cute, this youth was otherwise ordinary.

But if His Highness said so, then this boy must indeed be extraordinary.

“Gaoming, Sanlang, Qingque, come and greet your teacher.”

Changsun Wu beckoned to the three children behind her.

Wen He had been wondering who was who among them, but now it was clear.

The calm boy standing two steps behind Changsun Wu with his hands by his sides must be Li Chengqian, Li Shimin’s eldest son.

The one about the same height but standing farther away, less close to Changsun Wu, should be the third son, Li Ke.

The smallest child hiding behind Changsun Wu was Li Tai.

As Li Chengqian and Li Ke stepped forward to greet, a childish voice suddenly challenged him.

“What can you do? Why should you be our teacher?”

“Qingque, that’s rude!” Changsun Wu immediately scolded sternly, but Li Shimin stopped her with a wave.

“This is none of your concern.”

He raised an eyebrow at Wen He, curious to see what talents this boy from the future possessed.

If he couldn’t handle a mere Qingque, then he might as well stay in the backyard forever.

Noticing Li Shimin’s challenge, Wen He only found it amusing. If he couldn’t handle these old foxes, how could he be bothered by a brat?

“What do you want to compete in?”

“Can you compose poetry?” Li Tai put his hands on his round waist, brimming with confidence.

“Compete in poetry?” Wen He laughed heartily, as if hearing the greatest joke of all.

Everyone in the Li family looking on was puzzled.

What was so funny about that?

This person was strange.

“All right, then I’ll compose a fitting poem for the Prince of Qin.”

With all eyes on him, Wen He cleared his throat awkwardly, feigning profundity as he took a few steps forward and slowly recited:

“When the eighth day of the ninth month arrives,
After my flowers bloom, all others wither,
A soaring fragrance fills Chang’an’s air,
The entire city clad in golden armor.”