Chapter Sixty-Eight: Singing Amidst the Crisp Autumn Air

Because of what Li Kong had said, Li Shimin’s meeting with the envoys from Wa was postponed indefinitely, much to the helplessness of the Vice Minister of Rites. Among them, Liu Renji, having submitted a memorial in hopes of letting Wa fully understand the Great Tang's culture and advanced technology, had been expecting this to be his path to promotion and wealth. But he never could have imagined that a single memorial would lead Li Shimin to dismiss him from all official posts with the words, “Never to be employed again,” sending him back to his hometown to till the fields.

A gentle, warm breeze caressed his face; in the blink of an eye, it was Mid-Autumn once again.

At dawn, the manor grew busy. Led by Cui Zhu, several servants went out to the western market to purchase things needed for the festival. But at this time, there was no custom of eating mooncakes. People did eat small cakes made from dough, but they were a far cry from the mooncakes of later ages—hard, lacking any real flavor or texture.

Over the past few years, Li Kong had considered introducing mooncakes, but after some hesitation, he always gave up. He found the idea too troublesome, and besides, there was no market for them yet. Deep down, he still felt somewhat alienated from this era, from this world—he could never quite fully blend in.

On the night of the Mid-Autumn reunion, mooncakes were meant for families to come together. In his previous life, he had been an orphan, spending the holiday with comrades in the army for several years. Now... he still felt like an orphan, with neither comrades nor anyone who could truly understand the depths of his heart. What use were mooncakes to him?

“Kong, let’s go out for an autumn excursion! There are so many people by the Wei River, it’s lively!” Li Kong had just finished washing up and hadn’t even had a bite of hot food when Li Lizhi’s voice floated over.

He opened the door and windows, and seeing the group approaching, Li Kong couldn’t help but laugh.

Li Lizhi ran the fastest. Behind her, Li Chengqian led Li Tai, Li Ke, and Li You, the three little rascals, chattering about something. Judging by the scene, Li Chengqian was having quite the time impressing the younger boys, who gazed at him with adoration, making him unconsciously put on an air of smugness.

In the Sui and Tang dynasties, spring and autumn outings were all the rage. Groups of scholars and beauties would go out for fresh air, perhaps to arrange a tryst. It was somewhat like Valentine's Day in later ages, though the date was not fixed—people simply went out when the weather was fine, sometimes for days on end.

The customs of this era were quite open; outings, dates, and even private engagements were a trend that lasted until the Song dynasty, when the rise of Neo-Confucian orthodoxy finally put an end to it.

Of course, it wasn’t the outings themselves that were banned, but rather that all women were shut away, not allowed to step outside. The objects of affection changed from talented men and beautiful women to pairs of close male friends. Hmm, now that’s an image to ponder.

“An autumn excursion? Sure! Let me get ready and we’ll go!” Li Kong never thought to refuse Li Lizhi, especially since this would be his first time joining such an outing in the Great Tang. Wasn’t it interesting to observe how the handsome men and lovely women of this era courted each other?

Li Lizhi squinted as she smiled at him, her hands nervously twisting the edge of her garment. Suddenly, she reached out to touch Li Kong and instantly drew back, her face flushed red, leaving Li Kong both amused and exasperated. Was this her attempt at flirting?

“Kong, Father said if you don’t go to the palace to propose soon, he’ll marry Lizhi to someone else!” Suddenly, Li Tai sprang up and blurted out the words, giving Li Kong quite a scare.

Thanks to Li Kong’s influence, the Prince of Wei was no longer the chubby boy he’d once known, but a healthy and strikingly handsome youth. Rumor had it that Li Shimin was already searching for suitable matches for him. The thought of eleven-year-old Li Tai getting married made Li Kong feel awkward.

“What do you mean by that?”

Li Kong’s stern look made Li Tai instinctively shrink his neck. “I mean it literally! Lizhi is already twelve, and tomorrow she’ll be old enough to have her hair pinned up—then she can marry and bear children. The emperor’s daughter can’t wait too long, so if you don’t hurry up, don’t go mad when she’s promised to someone else.”

Li Kong was jolted by the reminder of the peculiar customs of the Zhenguan era. In most dynasties, girls had their hair-pinning ceremony at fifteen, meaning they couldn’t marry until then. Of course, marrying at thirteen or fourteen was common enough in practice.

But only Li Shimin, the emperor, would move the coming-of-age ceremony up by two years, reportedly because Empress Zhangsun was thirteen when she married him. So he simply went with the flow, and throughout the Zhenguan period, almost all princesses married at thirteen.

Li Lizhi’s birthday fell at the end of April, early summer. That meant Li Kong had barely half a year left. Looking at her flushed face, he couldn’t help but twitch his lips. “I understand. Tomorrow, I’ll speak to His Majesty about it.”

At his words, Li Lizhi blushed even more fiercely. Yet she didn’t run away, bravely dashing into Li Yue’e’s room instead, peeking back through the crack in the window at him.

Li Kong moved quickly. In a quarter of an hour, he’d finished his meal and was ready to go, leading Li Lizhi, Li Chengqian, and the others out of the residence, heading toward the banks of the Wei River.

Ever since the first year of Zhenguan, when Li Shimin repelled the Turks here, he had erected a monumental stone stele at the riverbank, inscribed with every detail of their defeat. With the establishment of this stele, Li Kong’s name spread throughout Guanzhong and Longyou, and even the Turks knew they had been routed by a mere youth.

As a result, Li Kong had become the number one target on the Eastern Turks’ blacklist. At the same time, he was also the dream lover, the prince on a white horse, for every eligible maiden in the Great Tang.

Each year at spring and autumn outings, this area around the stone stele was the most crowded. In fact, the popularity of the site had even given rise to the earliest picnics.

Looking at the rugs spread on the grass, groups of handsome men and beautiful women chatting and laughing together, Li Kong suddenly had the illusion he’d returned to the twenty-first century. Wasn’t the Tang dynasty supposed to be more reserved? Look over there—was it really alright for those young men and women to have their arms around each other? Wasn’t anyone worried about being punished?

Well... it seemed the custom of dunking adulterers in pig cages hadn’t come about yet. Never mind, then!

“So many people, Kong! Let’s go over there!” Li Lizhi, a little envious of those carefree couples, shyly tugged at Li Kong’s sleeve and pointed to a pleasure boat up ahead.