Chapter Thirty-Six: An Urgent Summons from the Imperial Palace

The business plan was set in motion.

Under Li Kong’s direction, seven out of a dozen or so workshops were converted into distilleries dedicated to brewing the strongest spirits, poised to seize an immense first wave of capital and shake up the existing liquor market. He had considered introducing salt-making techniques first, but that would certainly have provoked a ruthless backlash from the established noble families—something Li Kong knew he was not yet powerful enough to withstand.

Thus, he could only start by developing less-guarded markets like alcohol. Besides, no one understood the true scale of the liquor market better than Li Kong. In his previous life, even just the Chinese liquor industry alone was worth nearly a trillion US dollars. Though this era had fewer people, he was confident that with the sharp appeal of his spirits, earning ten million strings of coins in half a year would be no problem.

The remaining workshops he temporarily turned into glassworks—though he was not entirely clear on the process of making glass. He had to huddle with the craftsmen, experimenting day after day, until after twenty days of effort, they finally produced the first piece of bright, transparent glass.

Though the piece was small, no bigger than a palm, Li Kong was thrilled. He had poured so much of his heart into the effort that even the initial guilt he felt over “plagiarizing” the idea faded at the moment the glass was born.

Over the following month, Li Kong remained cloistered in the workshops. On the liquor side, they had already brewed over a thousand vats, totaling nearly a hundred thousand jin of strong spirits. Li Kong tasted it himself—it was on par with the strongest spirits of his former world, and, thanks to its pure and unpolluted ingredients, it even had a touch of sweetness and fragrance. He could already imagine the sensation its debut would create.

To promote the liquor, Li Kong put all his money on the table and had people acquire ten taverns in the counties surrounding Chang’an. Though limited funds meant these taverns were modest at best, all he needed was a network capable of radiating through the region. Eventually, he planned to hand off distribution to merchant traders altogether.

After all, Li Kong’s true aim was the imperial court; he wished to ensure the Tang dynasty he remembered would not end in regret. Given the unspoken rule that officials could not engage in commerce, he had no intention of crossing that line—in fact, he planned to take a stand against official profiteering in the future.

The weather grew colder, and in a blink, it was already the twelfth month, just over two weeks before the New Year.

During this time, all the workshops finally settled into regular operation. The liquor, his first flagship product, was scheduled for full release in five days, and glass cups were now being successfully produced to be sold alongside the spirits.

In the workshop, Li Kong treated himself to a rare morning of leisure, only rising at mid-morning with a yawn. Cui Zhu, his personal maid assigned by Li Yue’e, had been stationed in his room since his arrival, always watching his busy figure with a mixture of admiration and exasperation.

Quickly gathering up his clothes, Cui Zhu dressed Li Kong and asked, “Young master, are we really going home today?”

Li Kong nodded. Everything here could now run without him, at least for the next four months. The attendant who had accompanied him from the palace was now permanently assigned to oversee the workshops’ production. Laifu, his chief henchman, had become his sales manager and was out managing business.

Once dressed, Cui Zhu soaked a towel in hot water and handed it to him. “I’ll go pack our things now,” she said.

Li Kong was about to reply when a palace servant burst in, calling out, “Oh heavens, Young Master Li! Hurry out and receive the decree, or His Majesty will be kept waiting!”

Because Li Shimin had no particularly favored eunuch, Li Kong saw a different attendant each time, and to this day, he barely knew any of their names—except for Liu Dezhu, who now managed the workshops.

Though puzzled, Li Kong quickly straightened his attire and declared, “Li Kong here to receive the decree!”

“His Majesty commands: The eldest son of Duke Ying, Li Kong, is to enter the palace immediately. Do not delay. Young master, let’s go.”

Li Kong’s mouth twitched. He turned to Cui Zhu and said, “I’ll be back soon. You go home and pack. No need to wait for me.”

Cui Zhu looked a bit forlorn, but imperial orders could not be defied. She could only answer mournfully and retreat to the inner room.

Meanwhile, at the entrance of Fengxin Hall in Taiji Palace, Li Shimin and Empress Zhangsun stood with worried faces, watching the palace maids coming and going. Occasionally, a heart-wrenching scream pierced the air.

Sweat beaded on Li Shimin’s brow. “What on earth is happening? It’s been two hours—why hasn’t she delivered yet?”

A palace maid rushed over and fell to her knees, trembling. “Your Majesty, Consort Ling’s baby is in a breech position; the child has turned, and the midwives are doing all they can, but the odds are not good. Please punish me!”

Li Shimin’s mind went blank with anger. “Get back in there! I don’t want to hear such words—I only want them to live!”

The maid, startled, quickly ran back inside.

Empress Zhangsun sighed and gently approached Li Shimin. “Your Majesty, if the worst should happen...we must be prepared. Sometimes, these things are beyond human help.”

Li Shimin was agitated, but he listened to her. The woman in labor was only a minor consort, barely even known to him, but she was still his wife—risking her life to give his family another heir. He was not a heartless emperor; he could not simply turn a blind eye.

Yet he knew such tragedies happened every year. Countless women died in childbirth in this era. The child was always deemed most important; as for the wife, if she died, he could just marry another.

Another hour passed in a haze, the cries from the hall fading to almost nothing. If not for the ceaseless running of the maids, Li Shimin would have believed that all inside were already lost.

Just then, Li Kong hurried over, glanced at the bustling hall, and approached Li Shimin, bowing. “Your Majesty, what is...?”

Li Shimin gestured to the hall, his voice heavy. “Difficult labor—my consort. Can you save her?”