Everyday Life in the Tang Dynasty, Seen from the Sidelines

As a time-traveling tourist, Xiao Qingwu transmigrates to the 21st year of the Kaiyuan era, bringing her golden finger and spatial storage device with her.

Her dream is to drink with Li Bai today and roam the world with Du Fu tomorrow.

The reality: she starts out in the Yeting Palace, spending her days washing rice and sorting beans.

Luckily, she has an AI butler for company, and when she gets bored, she can watch shows and listen to music in her head.

However, her golden finger suffers a major bug during the transmigration. Every conversation she has with her AI butler in her head is broadcast live to the entire Tang Empire.

[That old lecher Emperor Xuanzong. Is he looking at me funny?]

Li Longji: (crushes his writing brush) I only want to know when that rebel An Lushan will rise up!

[My god, Wang Wei! Of all the brilliant men I fall in love with at first sight, you’re my favorite!]

Wang Wei: …Thank you, but could you first tell me what political stain I’ll have in the future?

[You damn emperor, move aside and let Li Bai sit on your throne for a couple of days and enjoy himself!]

Li Bai’s legs give out and he drops to his knees… I didn’t! I didn’t! I never even thought about it, don’t make things up!

[If you don’t like Du Fu, you can resign and retire to the countryside right now!]

Du Fu presses a hand to his forehead, wishing he could vanish on the spot. …Please, stop thinking out loud! I’m begging you, stop!

[Three Hundred Years of the Tang Empire’s Rise and Fall? Not interested. A Chronicle of Major Events in the Tianyuan-Kaibao Era? Maybe later. A Comprehensive Analysis of Tang Institutions? That sounds so boring. I don’t want to read it at all.]

The assembled officials want to scream: No! Read it now! If you won’t read it, we will!

Xiao Qingwu has no idea what’s going on. All she wants to know is…

Why is the emperor always getting angry at thin air? Why do the Poet Immortal and the Poet Sage always look like they have something to say when they see her? Why does everyone wear such complicated expressions whenever they look at her?

After pondering hard, Xiao Qingwu arrives at the only reasonable conclusion: This damn, impossible-to-contain charm of mine!

Before she became emperor, Li Zhuo’s biggest headaches went like this:

“Your Highness, Liu Yuxi has been demoted again!”

“Your Highness, Liu Zongyuan has been demoted again!”

“Your Highness, Yuan Zhen has been demoted again!”

After she became emperor, Li Zhuo’s biggest headaches went like this:

“Your Majesty, Liu Yuxi and Wu Yuanheng are fighting!”

“Your Majesty, Liu Zongyuan and Wu Yuanheng are fighting!”

“Your Majesty, Yuan Zhen and Wu Yuanheng are fighting!”

“Your Majesty, Bai Juyi got caught in the crossfire while trying to break up the fight!”

Arriving in an era summed up as “the dawn of human civilization,” the interstellar superhuman Li Zhuo is undeniably enjoying herself.

The air is pure, the plants are harmless… even the insectoids are only the size of fingernails.

Every time she breathes, she feels her lungs are moved to tears with gratitude.

She truly has no intention of getting involved in any conflict, until she sees with her own eyes starving people everywhere and corpses piled on top of one another, while the helmsmen of this age steer their ship straight toward the edge of a cliff without looking back.

And so, this visitor who only wanted to take life easy will eventually nock an arrow, charge into battle, and hold back the almost inevitable collapse.

A little scene:

One day, a denunciation arrives in Chang’an. Several thousand eloquent words accuse Li Zhuo of usurping the throne as a woman, stealing the imperial power, and throwing the court into chaos…

Li Zhuo slams the table and leaps to her feet. “I can take you insulting my character, but what do you mean, my poetry is unreadable?!”

That night, furious, she takes up her brush and writes an immortal masterpiece in reply.

“A cloud floats high above,

A crowd gathers below.

You call me a throne thief,

I won’t argue, though.

My empire’s secure,

And my poems outshine yours.

If you can do better, go ahead.

If you can’t, then hush.”

Theme: For every one of us struggling to survive