Li Shimin faked his death? Then I will be powerful enough to conquer the world!

At 6:30 in the evening, the exhaust fan of the old teahouse on Chang'an Road was still humming, mixing the burnt aroma of fried tea and the smell of chili oil from the noodle shop next door, which spread to the back of Li Jiangning's freshly washed white shirt.

"Two bowls of Bingfeng, a plate of fennel beans, and a plate of cured beef."

Li Jiangning pushed the menu to Mr. Qi opposite him.

Mr. Qi was wearing a navy blue Zhongshan suit.

He didn't look at the menu, his eyes glued to the TV on the wall. The news was broadcasting the evening rush hour traffic situation. The host smiled and said, "Traffic in the main urban area is smooth today, with no long periods of congestion." The screen cut to an intersection, where electric bikes streamed like migrating ants. Students in school uniforms rode shared bikes, their baskets filled with freshly bought pancakes.

Mr. Qi's Adam's apple moved, and he reached out to pull the glass on the table towards him.

Carrying the Bingfeng and cured beef over, the glass bottle hit the corner of the table with a "clang" sound.

Li Jiangning unscrewed the bottle cap and took a long gulp. The icy soda slid down his throat, making him shudder. "Lao Qi, do you still remember the Lantern Festival?"

He suddenly spoke, his gaze drifting out the window. The sunset dyed the sky orange, and the streetlights gradually lit up, casting a warm yellow light on the sidewalk. "That year during the Lantern Festival, Chang'an Avenue was decorated with lanterns and colorful lights. We took the brothers out for drinks on Suzaku Street. You got drunk and hugged a pillar, shouting, 'I will protect the Tang Dynasty for Your Majesty for a hundred years.'"

Mr. Qi's eyes were red. He picked up the chopsticks and picked up a piece of cured beef, but did not put it into his mouth. He just held it in his hand.

"I remember," he said hoarsely, "that year you were only twenty years old, wearing a dragon robe, standing on the city wall, and saying you wanted to ensure that the people of the Tang Dynasty had enough food to eat and warm clothes to wear, and that the Tang Dynasty flag would be raised everywhere."

"Later, we built factories, manufactured muskets, and trained new troops, but... but all of that stuff suddenly disappeared."

He put down his chopsticks, resting his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. "The blueprints for the musket in my head—first I forgot the number of iron layers on the barrel, then even the gunpowder ratio. The pages of those 'later generations' books you left behind slowly turned yellow and brittle, eventually becoming a pile of shredded paper. Even the reign title 'Qianwu'—later the palace historian asked me if I had misremembered it, as the Tang Dynasty had never had that title before."

Li Jiangning looked at him, his fingertips drawing circles on the wall of the glass. Water droplets flowed down the wall of the glass, leaving a small wet mark on the tablecloth.

“It’s history correcting itself.”

He said softly, his tone as calm as if he was discussing today's weather, "My time traveling back to the Tang Dynasty from the modern era was an accident in itself. Those things that don't belong to that era will eventually be brought back on track."

"It's like when you wanted to teach the craftsman the art of making a firearm, but the quality of the iron ore and the forging process at the time weren't up to par. Even if you made one, it would explode after just a few shots."

He paused, picked up a piece of cured beef, and chewed it slowly. "It's different now. Look at the car downstairs. Its engine has tens of thousands of parts, and none of them can be missing. Look at the chip in your phone. It's smaller than a fingernail, but it has billions of transistors inside."

"These things weren't created by one person or one idea. They were built by the entire national industrial system, by tens of thousands of engineers and workers. What we wanted to do back then, China has already accomplished, and done better."

Mr. Qi was silent. He watched the city night scene on TV. The neon lights on the tall buildings were flickering, like stars in the sky falling into the earth.

"But our people are still here."

After a long time, Mr. Qi finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of stubbornness, "Some became entrepreneurs, some became doctors, some became university professors, and some became cadres at the grassroots level."

"We still have eight hundred people."

His eyes lit up, like a burning flame: "We just need to wait for an opportunity, wait until the people can no longer survive, then we can stand up, raise our arms and call, and the brothers will come over. Then..."

"What will happen then?" Li Jiangning interrupted, his tone cold. "The world will be in chaos, shops will close, factories will stop working, people will not be able to buy food, children will not be able to go to school, and hospitals will be filled with injured people. Is this what you want to see?"

He slammed the glass down on the table, sending a few drops of soda splattering onto the tablecloth. "Old Qi, wake up! Things aren't the same now. People have enough to eat, a place to live, access to medical care, and schooling. This is the kind of life we ​​dreamed of giving the people of the Tang Dynasty. Now that it's a reality, why are you still thinking about chaos?"

Mr. Qi's face flushed crimson, and he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "But this world is not yours! Back then, you were His Majesty, the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty. But now..."

Li Jiangning laughed, a laugh that was both helpless and relieved. "I became emperor not for my own power, but to make life better for the people. Now that the people are living well, it doesn't matter who owns the world, whether I'm the emperor or not. What difference does it make?"

He stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. The evening breeze blew in, bringing a bit of coolness and dispelling the stuffiness in the teahouse. On the sidewalk downstairs, an elderly couple walked slowly hand in hand. The old woman was holding a cotton candy, the pink sugar threads gleaming in the light.

A few young people who had just got off work walked into the convenience store, chatting and laughing, and bought iced cola and potato chips; at the intersection in the distance, traffic police were directing traffic, and the traffic flow was orderly.

"Look," Li Jiangning pointed out the window, his voice softening. "This is our life now—plain, but stable. Wasn't everything we did back then just to give the people a life like this? Now that it's here, why would we want to destroy it?"

He turned around and looked at Mr. Qi with a firm gaze: "I am an ordinary person now, with a little money. I listen to others talk about family matters, work, and children's grades. This kind of life is pretty good."

"The old ways of kings, princes, generals and ministers are outdated. China today doesn't rely on the power of one person, but on the system, the law and the hard work of millions of ordinary people."

Mr. Qi looked at him, moved his lips, wanting to say something, but couldn't.

He suddenly felt that the Li Jiangning in front of him was actually the same as the emperor back then.

Your Majesty back then was able to humble himself for the sake of the people, eat coarse grains with his brothers, and fight wars together.

Now, for the sake of the people, Li Jiangning can put aside his status as emperor, become an ordinary person, and guard this stability.

"If... I mean if," Mr. Qi lowered his voice, a little uncertain, "if there really comes a day when the people can no longer survive and no one can stand up, what will you do?"

Li Jiangning walked back to the table, sat down again, picked up the chopsticks, picked up a fennel bean, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice calm but powerful: "If that day ever comes, millions of people will step forward without us having to do anything."

"They may be doctors, teachers, workers, farmers, students, or just ordinary people who want to protect this peace and stability."

He looked at Mr. Qi with a look of certainty in his eyes: "If they can't solve it, I will take action."

"As an ordinary person, I will do my best to protect the lives of ordinary people, just like I did back then."

Mr. Qi was silent. He picked up the Bingfeng on the table, unscrewed the cap, took a big sip, and the icy soda made his eyes sore.

He looked at Li Jiangning in front of him, at the tea stains on his white shirt, at the calmness and determination in his eyes, and suddenly understood - the emperor of that year had never disappeared, he just changed the way to protect the people he wanted to protect.

The storytelling in the teahouse continued, telling the story of Yue Fei's loyalty to his country. The ups and downs of the voice drew cheers from the guests.

The waiter came over with a plate of freshly fried peanuts and asked with a smile, "Boss, would you like anything else? Our fried noodles are hot from the wok."

Li Jiangning looked at Mr. Qi and asked with a smile, "Mr. Qi, would you like a bowl of noodles?"

Mr. Qi nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. It was the first time he had ever smiled so easily. "Okay," he said, "have a bowl of hot noodles."