Chapter Fifty-One: Li Kong Is Going to Mine Coal

Duke of England’s Residence.

This year, the first day of the New Year at the Duke of England’s residence was livelier than ever before. Li Ji, who would ordinarily be making his rounds to visit other officials, found he need not even leave the house, as he joined Cheng Yaojin and more than a dozen other generals in the main hall, feasting and bantering about everything under the sun.

Yet, none of their minds were truly on the festivities; their thoughts lingered on the nearby side courtyard.

In that side courtyard, Empress Zhangsun, along with Li Lizhi and Li Yue’e, had withdrawn to a rear chamber to exchange the private words of women, while Li Shimin took Li Kong to the edge of a pond behind the residence, its surface long since frozen over.

“Out with it—what exactly is this thing? I’m warning you, if you don’t give me an explanation today, do you believe I won’t kick you to death?” Li Shimin fixed his eyes on Li Kong’s, clearly irritated. He had to admit the boy was talented, but watching the daughter he’d raised for over a decade fawn and dote on Li Kong in front of so many people had left him in a foul mood. Coupled with the trouble stirred up by Zhangsun Chong, Li Shimin was now seething with pent-up frustration.

Li Kong rubbed his hands together, exhaled into his palms, and said, “Uncle Li, it’s about to snow again. Spring is still a long way off. I wonder if this year there will be people who freeze to death in Great Tang…”

“What are you getting at?”

Li Kong drew a deep breath and replied, “Every winter is a living hell for many of us. Those who die from the cold each year are too many to count. So, over these past days, I’ve been thinking—couldn’t we invent something to drive out the cold? And, believe it or not, I may have just come up with an idea or two.”

“Let’s hear it!” Li Shimin’s interest was piqued. The Taiji Palace itself was bitterly cold, and their standard of living was not particularly grand. Warm clothing was inadequate every year, leading to frequent fires in the palace—caused by palace maids and eunuchs burning open braziers for warmth.

Lighting fires inside the palace was something both Li Shimin and Li Yuan had tacitly permitted, as had emperors of dynasties past; otherwise, people would freeze to death within those walls, and it would remain so until the Southern Song era finally found a lasting solution.

Thus, upon hearing Li Kong’s words, Li Shimin could not help but feel a glimmer of hope.

Li Kong breathed out heavily, still shaken by the sternness with which Li Shimin had just called out Li Lizhi’s name. Now, it seemed there was little to worry about. If he had known winning Li Lizhi’s affection would provoke such an overblown response from this emperor with a clear daughter fixation, he might have fled long ago. Considering his future, a shiver ran down his spine—would Li Shimin continue to act this way even after the wedding?

But for now, it was best to address the issue at hand.

After composing his thoughts, he spoke up. “A while ago, I collected some white di’er blossoms from the palace and experimented with them. I found that if you remove the seeds from these flowers and sew them into cloth pouches, the result is excellent insulation against the cold.

“Besides white di’er, goose down is also an outstanding insulator—but it’s hard to obtain in any quantity. We simply don’t have enough geese. So I wondered, why not set up special goose farms, solely to supply down?

“Lastly, there’s inkstone—actually, coal. I’ve read through various local records and discovered that there are many exposed coal seams in Shanxi. Couldn’t we mine these and transport them across the empire?”

Li Shimin narrowed his eyes and looked at Li Kong. “These are your methods for keeping warm through the winter?”

Li Kong shrugged. The white di’er flowers had come from the Western Regions, but the supply was pitifully small. Outside the palace and a few fields around Chang’an, there was hardly any to be found. There wasn’t even enough for the capital, let alone the entire country.

As for goose down? That was even less realistic—Li Kong’s own suggestion was fanciful at best.

So Li Shimin focused on the crucial point: the inkstone, or coal. As a native of Taiyuan, Li Shimin was well aware that Shanxi’s coal supply was already stretched thin just meeting local needs, never mind providing for all of Great Tang. A faint sense of disappointment rose in him.

Of course, he knew he shouldn’t feel this way—after all, Li Kong was only sixteen. For someone his age, these ideas were impressive enough. Yet, compared with the almost miraculous impressions Li Kong had made on him before, this time he fell a little short.

Li Kong was taken aback. “Uncle Li thinks it’s not feasible?”

Li Shimin sneered, “Do you think it is? Never mind the white di’er and goose down—let’s talk about coal. That stuff is in such short supply that even the great clans treat it as precious, rarer than charcoal. You think you can supply the whole empire? If I believed you, I’d have you scattered across the land myself.”

Li Kong laughed. “Uncle Li, with all due respect, from what I know, the coal reserves in Shanxi alone could keep every subject of Great Tang supplied for a thousand years and more.”

“And what proof do you have?”

Li Kong straightened and said, “I am willing to personally oversee the mining of coal. If I fail in this task, I will accept whatever punishment Uncle Li sees fit. However, I must say this in advance—the profits from coal are so immense that, should I succeed, envy and greed are bound to follow…”

“This matter I will handle myself,” Li Shimin cut him off. “If it’s as you say, I’ll assign you a thousand armored guards to ensure your safety. Until then, do as you ought.”

…Was he being dismissed?

Watching Li Shimin’s retreating figure, Li Kong was left speechless.

After a long while, he sighed deeply. “The people of this era really are guileless. Still, I’d best secure those coal mines as soon as possible, or I’ll never get another chance like this.”

As someone from the future, no one understood the profits of coal better than Li Kong—it was like printing money. If he could control even half of Shanxi’s coal mines, he would amass wealth to eclipse every noble house and great clan.

“No, I can’t let this opportunity slip by. Today, I must secure ownership of every coal mine in Shanxi!” Li Kong muttered, frowning, as he hurried after Li Shimin.

Not far ahead, Li Shimin walked on, hands clasped behind his back, letting the cold wind buffet him as he mulled over Li Kong’s words.

Coal seemed out of reach, and goose down unattainable, but if white di’er truly possessed insulating qualities, it might be worth pursuing—especially since the Western Regions had grown less compliant of late.

The warrior’s blood in Li Shimin began to stir once more…