Chapter 15: He Really Did It, I Cried My Eyes Out

Chapter 15: He Really Made Me Cry

“Of course, aside from you, Napoleon should be the most formidable emperor,” Li Qing gently praised Napoleon.

“What’s with that name?” Emperor Taizong of Tang, Li Shimin, scoffed at the strange foreign name. “Westerners have the oddest names. First there was Miller, now this ‘Napoleon’ nonsense.”

“It’s Napoleon,” Li Qing explained patiently. “In their language, Napoleon means ‘lion of the wilderness’... a lion, which corresponds to the mythical creature Suanni.”

“I see. Just like with the Turks, their names are transliterated into Chinese based on pronunciation, right?” Li Shimin instantly made the connection. He was familiar with many Turkic names among his soldiers—Asina Simo, Qibi Heli—all phonetically rendered in Chinese. He had considerable experience with this.

“Li, you’re impressive,” Li Qing gave a thumbs-up. “Truly worthy of being called the Heavenly Khagan.”

“Haha... you flatter me, esteemed brother,” Li Shimin replied modestly, though inwardly he felt a sense of pride at Li Qing’s praise.

He had heard plenty of flattery before, but Li Qing was like a celestial being in his eyes, so the compliment meant much more.

This time, Li Shimin sat quietly, watching the entire film in silence. It wasn’t until the old Imperial Guard refused to surrender and was executed by order of the Duke of Wellington that he let out a long, contemplative sigh.

Tragic heroes always stir sympathy—like Xiang Yu. Napoleon was no different, even if Li Shimin’s own life had been a great success—that was human nature.

“What fine soldiers...” Li Shimin lamented, but something puzzled him. “Why do they all look so old? At their age, they should have long since retired from battle, shouldn’t they? Why are they still serving in the army?”

“These are the Old Imperial Guards, Napoleon’s elite troops,” Li Qing explained, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Only warriors who survived multiple battles alongside Napoleon and were carefully selected based on their physical condition were admitted. They’re elite soldiers, both in skill and loyalty.”

“You mean, the veterans who’ve followed you since the uprising at Jinyang, surviving almost every campaign—trustworthy in both combat and allegiance,” Li Shimin nodded, “Much like the Xuanjia army.”

Li Qing continued, “Exactly. And the firing lines—they form tight ranks during attack because flintlock muskets are quite inaccurate. Dense formations compensate for this.”

He pulled up a schematic of a flintlock musket from the system and showed it to Li Shimin. “See here? The musket’s length reaches about chest height and can be fitted with a bayonet. With the bayonet attached, it serves not only for long-range shooting but also as a spear for close combat.”

“I understand now. The close and orderly ranks aren’t just for shooting—they’re also prepared for hand-to-hand fighting,” Li Shimin concluded swiftly.

As an emperor, a bit of military knowledge seemed reasonable to him.

“There’s another purpose: to bolster the courage of new soldiers,” Li Qing added, shrugging. “People have a herd mentality—some scientific term I forget—but basically being among many reduces fear.”

“That makes sense,” Li Shimin acknowledged.

“This is also the best match for the current weapons and tactics of the Tang Dynasty,” Li Qing said as he consulted his data. “Casting and gunpowder technology are easier to manage here, nothing as distant or complex as machine guns.”

“But I still want machine guns...” Li Shimin wistfully admitted.

Men really are the same when it comes to their obsessions.

“So, Brother Li, aren’t you hungry?” Li Qing rubbed his stomach. He had only had a simple bowl of porridge that morning, and the jostling on the carriage had made him ready for a proper meal.

“Now that you mention it, I’m a bit hungry too,” Li Shimin finally put aside his longing for machine guns. He pulled back the curtain and called out, “Wang De?”

Wang De responded obediently but was interrupted by Li Qing.

“Let’s eat something else—forget the dry rations for now. Wang De, bring some clean water.”

Seeing Wang De hesitate, Li Shimin said, “As ordered by Prince Qin... well, stop moving for now. No need to rush. Let everyone eat their fill before we continue.”

“Yes, everyone.”

Moments later, Wang De brought fresh water to the carriage.

Li Qing exchanged two self-heating hot pots from the system and handed one to Li Shimin. “Here, watch and learn—it’s simple.”

Li Shimin mimicked Li Qing’s actions, setting up the hot pot. Soon, white steam began to rise from the vents.

“Brother, this thing actually heats itself?” Li Shimin marveled.

“Of course. Wait about fifteen minutes and it’ll be ready.”

After watching movies all morning, Li Shimin was genuinely hungry. He stared eagerly at the steaming hot pot, counting down the minutes. When Li Qing gave the signal, he couldn’t wait to lift the lid—the rich aroma burst forth instantly.

“Wow, it smells so spicy and fragrant!” Li Shimin inhaled deeply but was caught off guard by the chili’s kick.

“It’s perfect for winter. Hurry and eat,” Li Qing broke the disposable chopsticks for him.

“Well then, I won’t hold back,” Li Shimin said, taking the chopsticks and digging in heartily.

In front of Li Qing, he grew increasingly lax about maintaining imperial dignity. Partly because he regarded Li Qing as an equal celestial being, now that he needed his help, it was hard to say who was superior; partly because their personalities matched so well, it felt like they had met too late.

“Ha... ah... this is addictive!” Li Shimin exclaimed.

The spicy flavor was irresistible, especially when washed down with a sip of cola at the peak of heat—it was heavenly, no less.

“So this is celestial cuisine? No wonder you don’t want dry rations,” Li Shimin mumbled around noodles.

The aroma drifted out the carriage window, and outside, Wang De and the guards chewing their dry rations whispered among themselves, wondering what the emperor was eating that smelled so delicious.

“Aye, aye...” a soft, childish voice sounded.

Li Shimin immediately set down his chopsticks and lifted the curtain.

Li Qing turned to look and saw a petite little girl with big, sparkling eyes staring at them.

“It’s Ye Ye’s little Sizi...” Li Shimin scooped the girl into the carriage and held her. “Sizi, why aren’t you staying with your nursemaid? How did you come to Ye Ye?”

“Sizi misses Ye Ye...” the little girl said, but her eyes were fixed firmly on the self-heating hot pot on the table.

(End of chapter)