Love and choices across time and space

In the cold twelfth month of winter, the biting north wind roared like an enraged beast, sweeping across the small town outside Chang'an. The leaden sky seemed to be pressed down, weighing heavily on people's hearts, and the icy air seemed to freeze all life.

The streets of the small town seemed especially deserted and bleak in this harsh winter. The once bustling market was now deserted, with only a small street vendor offering snacks, like a warm bonfire in the cold wind, emitting wisps of heat and a rich, intoxicating aroma.

Inside the roasted nuts shop, Li Yifeng was busy and absorbed. He stood tall, though slightly thin from constant toil. Yet, his toned muscles embodied a resilient strength. His face, defined by sharp lines, seemed meticulously sculpted. His high nose and resolute chin exuded an unyielding stubbornness. His deep eyes, now focused intently on the flames in the stove, shimmered with a dedication and love for life.

At this moment, he was wearing a patched but cleanly washed coarse linen shirt, his sleeves rolled up high, revealing his wheat-colored arms, stained with a little charcoal dust and oil. Beads of sweat on his forehead, like crystal pearls, rolled down his angular cheeks, and instantly turned into a wisp of light smoke under the high temperature of the stove.

"Yifeng, work harder! Fry more today so you can sell more at the market tomorrow." Father Li's voice, slightly seasoned yet powerful, echoed through the alley. He stood by, his hands restlessly sorting the freshly roasted melon seeds. The wrinkles on his face, like the ravines of time, each one revealing the hardships of life. But his eyes always shone with anticipation and hope for the future.

Li Yifeng responded, his voice a touch tired but filled with determination: "Dad, don't worry, I know!" His powerful grip on the spatula swung ever faster. The flames in the stove danced merrily, illuminating his face, strained with concentration. The melon seeds in the pot tumbled and tumbled fiercely under the intense heat, making a cheerful crackling sound, as if playing a melody full of life.

His breathing became increasingly rapid as he labored, his chest rising and falling, each breath bringing out a puff of white mist. Li Yifeng silently calculated the stir-frying time and heat in his mind, not daring to slack off for even a moment.

Suddenly, without warning, Li Yifeng felt a surge of dizziness like a surging tide. The scene before him instantly became blurry, as if shrouded in a thick fog. "Dad, I'm suddenly dizzy." His voice was filled with undisguised panic and weakness, and the shovel in his hand slowed down uncontrollably.

Father Li whipped his head around at the sound, his expression instantly shifting from anticipation to extreme worry. His rough hands reached out eagerly for his son, and his voice trembled as he called out, "Yifeng, what's wrong with you?" However, before his hands could touch his son, a strange and brilliant light suddenly erupted from the pot like an explosion, instantly enveloping Li Yifeng's body.

In the light, Li Yifeng's soul seemed to be tightly grasped by an invisible and powerful mysterious hand, slowly and irresistibly separating from his body. His eyes were wide open, filled with fear and helplessness, and he struggled desperately to return to his body, but it was all in vain.

Father Li's eyes widened in horror, nearly popping out of their sockets. Desperately, he lunged forward, trying to grasp his son's fading soul, shouting, "Yifeng! Yifeng! What the hell is going on?" His voice, shrill and desperate, echoed through the empty roasted nuts shop, but it was powerless to change the strange and terrifying situation.

Li Yifeng felt as if his consciousness had fallen into an endless abyss of darkness. Surrounded by endless silence and coldness, it felt as if the entire world had completely vanished. Fear and confusion gripped his heart, and the feeling of helplessness and loneliness made him feel like he was sinking into an icy cellar.

Time seemed to have lost its meaning in this chaotic darkness. Li Yifeng's soul drifted aimlessly in the void, without direction or end. After an unknown amount of time, perhaps a moment, perhaps a millennium, he finally felt a warm and gentle force like spring sunshine, gently and slowly enveloping him. That force brought endless comfort and peace, like a mother's embrace, bringing a touch of solace to his utterly frightened and exhausted heart.

When Li Yifeng slowly opened his eyes again, he found himself in a completely unfamiliar place. It was a magnificent courtyard, surrounded by meticulously manicured exotic flowers and plants. The colorful blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, exuding a captivating fragrance. Each flower seemed like nature's most meticulous masterpiece, delicate and captivating, a breathtaking beauty. In the distance, pavilions and towers were arranged in an orderly manner, their eaves and brackets gleaming golden in the sunlight, like a dreamlike fairyland. The vermilion columns and carved doors and windows were exquisite and ornate, every detail showcasing unparalleled elegance and beauty.

Li Yifeng stood up in a daze. He stepped on silk as soft as clouds. The delicate touch almost made him think he was in a dream. He looked down at his clothes. It was no longer the familiar coarse linen, but a gorgeous brocade robe, embroidered with exquisite patterns, the silk threads shimmering with colorful light in the sunlight.

"Where is this? How did I get here?" Li Yifeng muttered to himself, his voice filled with confusion and uneasiness. His eyes wandered around the courtyard, trying to find some familiar clues, but everything seemed so strange and new.

Just when he was filled with confusion, a voice as clear as a silver bell rang in his ears: "Master, are you awake?"

Li Yifeng looked in the direction of the voice and saw a maid in a pink dress gliding toward him. The maid had a beautiful face, skin as white as snow, delicate and delicate as a baby's. Her large, watery eyes, like the clear water of a lake, revealed a hint of curiosity and surprise. A delicate pearl flower adorned her bun, swaying gently with her steps, shimmering with a captivating light.

"Miss, where is this? Why am I here?" Li Yifeng asked anxiously, staring at the maid, hoping to get an answer from her.

The maid smiled faintly, two shallow dimples appearing on her face, as charming as peach blossoms blooming in spring. She whispered, "Sir, this is the Li Mansion in Chang'an City. You were brought back by my master. You were unconscious at the time, and he instructed us to take good care of you."

Li Yifeng's confusion grew. Chang'an? Li Mansion? These unfamiliar words swirled in his mind, leaving him feeling bewildered. "Then who is your master?" he demanded, trying to make sense of the chaotic situation.

The maid replied, "My master is the current Minister Li."

Li Yifeng was shocked. Shangshu? He was a high-ranking official in the imperial court. How could a mere child of a small snack shop be related to him? All of this seemed so unbelievable.

At this moment, a majestic and deep voice came from a distance: "Tell him to come to the study to see me."

The maid quickly replied respectfully, "Yes, sir." Then she turned to Li Yifeng and said, "Sir, please follow me."

Li Yifeng followed the maid through the winding corridors with trepidation. The walls on either side were hung with exquisite calligraphy and paintings, each one seemingly telling an ancient and mysterious story. The stone pavement beneath their feet was smooth and neat, as if polished by time to a jade-like smoothness. Along the way, they passed through small and exquisite gardens, with rockery and craggy formations of various shapes. Clear streams gurgled among the rockery, creating a crisp and melodious sound. Fish swam happily in the water, occasionally leaping out of the water, splashing a shimmering spray.

Finally, they arrived at a spacious study. The interior was elegantly furnished, permeated with the faint scent of ink and books. Tall bookshelves were filled with a dazzling array of books, ranging from classics, history books, and collections to poetry and songs. Each volume seemed a treasure trove of knowledge, waiting to be explored and discovered. A large desk stood by the window, neatly arranged with brushes, inkstones, and paper. The inkstone, like a bottomless pool of ink, emanated a mysterious and alluring luster. Several brushes of varying thicknesses hung on the pen holder, their tips soft and flexible, as if ready to unleash a brilliant poem upon the paper.

A middle-aged man in official uniform sat at his desk, his expression serious and his gaze penetrating. His face bore the marks of time, each wrinkle a trace of history, witnessing countless vicissitudes. Yet, these wrinkles did not make him look old or frail; instead, they enhanced his dignity and wisdom. His eyes, like the water of a deep pool, were calm and profound, their mystery difficult to fathom.

"Master, the young master is here." The maid bowed and said, her voice soft and respectful, like a breeze blowing across the strings of a zither.

Minister Li waved his hand, signaling the maid to leave.

Li Yifeng took a deep breath, trying to calm his nervousness, took a few steps forward, and bowed respectfully, saying, "Greetings, Your Excellency the Minister."

Minister Li looked him up and down, his gaze scrutinizing and probing, as if he wanted to see through his exterior to the depths of his soul. After a moment, he slowly said, "Young man, do you know why I brought you back?"

Li Yifeng shook his head and said honestly, "I don't know. Please tell me clearly, Lord Shangshu."

Minister Li stood up and slowly walked to the window. He gazed at the scenery outside, lost in a brief moment of contemplation. Outside, sunlight filtered through the mottled leaves, casting patches of golden light onto the ground. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, whispering ancient secrets. After a long pause, he slowly spoke, "Last night, I had a dream. In my dream, an immortal guided me, saying that today a remarkable person would descend upon my residence, capable of helping my Li family survive a catastrophe. And you, at this very moment, appeared before my door."

Li Yifeng was stunned. It all sounded so absurd and bizarre, like a fairy tale. He said in disbelief, "Sir, I am just an ordinary citizen. I don't know how I can help you overcome this disaster." Li Yifeng said this, his heart filled with doubt and uneasiness.

Minister Li turned around, looked at him firmly, and said, "Perhaps this is God's will. From today on, you will stay in my house, and I will observe carefully."

Li Yifeng had no choice but to nod and agree. In this unfamiliar environment, he had no choice.

During his time at the Li Mansion, Li Yifeng gradually began to adapt to life there. He discovered that his Tang Dynasty background surprisingly lent him considerable knowledge, allowing him to read and write. He spent his free time immersed in his study, leafing through precious books. He eagerly absorbed the nourishment of knowledge, hoping to find a way back to the modern era.

Each book in his study was like a window to a different world, allowing him to appreciate the rich and diverse culture and profound wisdom of the Tang Dynasty. He swam in the ocean of poetry, feeling the bold and elegant style of Li Bai and the melancholy and rhythmic style of Du Fu; he wandered through the long river of history, appreciating the prosperity of the Zhenguan Reign and the splendor of the Kaiyuan Prosperity; and he pondered in the halls of philosophy, exploring the Confucian doctrine of benevolence, the Taoist doctrine of inaction, and the Buddhist concept of compassion.

It was a sunny day, the sky a brilliant blue. Minister Li invited a group of officials to a gathering at his residence. The servants bustled about, meticulously preparing a sumptuous feast. In the garden, colorful silks fluttered, exquisite porcelain shone, and the air was filled with the aroma of fine wine and delicious food.

Li Yifeng was assigned to serve at the side, helping to serve tea and water. He was dressed in a simple long gown and moved lightly among the guests.

The banquet took place in a pavilion in the garden, surrounded by a riot of color and beauty. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of the flowers, blending with the mellow aroma of fine wine, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Officials sat together, chatting and laughing in a harmonious atmosphere. They were dressed in magnificent official uniforms and wore tall crowns, and their every gesture exuded a refined and refined demeanor.

Halfway through the banquet, an official suddenly suggested composing a poem to liven up the atmosphere, and everyone responded with great enthusiasm.

Li Yifeng watched quietly from the side, thinking to himself. He thought of the Tang poems he had read in modern times, and an idea came to his mind.

When it was Li Yifeng's turn, he took a deep breath, stood up, cleared his throat, and slowly chanted: "Two orioles sing in the green willows, a line of egrets fly in the blue sky."

When this poem came out, everyone was astonished. They had never thought that a small servant could come up with such exquisite verses. For a moment, the pavilion fell into a brief silence.

Minister Li showed a satisfied smile on his face, nodded repeatedly and said, "Good poem! Good poem!"

At this moment, a clear and pleasant voice was heard: "This poem is indeed exquisite. I wonder what other excellent works this young master has created?"

Li Yifeng followed the sound and saw a woman in gorgeous clothes standing at the entrance of the pavilion. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, with eyebrows as dark as distant black, eyes like stars, and skin as white as snow. A faint smile lingered on her lips, like a flower blooming in spring. Her hair, studded with pearls and jade, shimmered with dazzling light. Her gown was embroidered with exquisite patterns, and her skirt fluttered in the wind, making her look like a fairy descended to earth.

Li Yifeng was so dazed that he forgot to answer for a moment.

Minister Li smiled and said, "Princess Changle, this is a servant of the mansion, his name is Li Yifeng."

Princess Changle? Li Yifeng was startled. He hadn't expected to actually see the princess. He quickly came to his senses and bowed, saying, "Your Highness, I was frightened for a moment. I hope Your Highness will forgive me."

Princess Changle walked into the pavilion, sat down gracefully, and said, "No problem, write a few more poems for me to hear."

Li Yifeng calmed himself down and chanted again: "The moon shines brightly before my bed, I wonder if it is frost on the ground. I look up at the bright moon, and I look down and think of my hometown."

Princess Changle's eyes flashed with surprise after hearing this, and she said, "This poem is full of homesickness and is very touching."

From then on, Princess Changle frequently visited the Li residence to discuss poetry with Li Yifeng. Sometimes, they would stroll through the gardens, admiring the beauty of the four seasons and feeling the charm of nature. In spring, they strolled among a sea of ​​flowers, petals falling like snow, as if in a fairyland. In summer, they rested in the shade of the trees, listening to the chirping of cicadas and frogs, enjoying a moment of tranquility. In autumn, they stepped on the golden fallen leaves, reciting poems about autumn and feeling the joy of the harvest. In winter, they gathered around the fire, sipping hot tea, and discussing the warmth and hope expressed in poetry.

Sometimes, they would sit quietly in the study, immersed in a world of books. Li Yifeng would explain profound poems and historical allusions to the princess, and the princess would share her own insights and insights. In this peaceful atmosphere, their hearts grew closer.

During a discussion of poetry, the princess accidentally spilled ink onto her sleeve. Li Yifeng quickly picked up a handkerchief and gently wiped the ink away for her. At that moment, their eyes met, and an indescribable emotion welled up in their hearts.

A blush spread across the princess's face, and Li Yifeng felt his heartbeat quicken. From then on, their feelings gradually grew stronger, no longer just a love for poetry, but also a deep attachment to each other.