Chang'an? West Market?
The wheat cake in Li Mo's hand fell to the ground with a clatter, and his heart started beating wildly. He grabbed the old man's hand tremblingly, and his voice changed tone: "Uncle, tell me... What year is it now?"
The old man was stunned by his arrest, and then sighed: "What other year? The third year of Zhenguan! Not long after the New Year, His Majesty is still recruiting talents. It's a pity, ordinary people like us, how can we be so lucky..."
Three years of Zhenguan! Li Shimin!
