Chapter Eleven: The Strange Gift

Upon hearing Li Yuechen’s question, Liu Shenwei paused instinctively, stroked his beard, and couldn’t help but laugh. He’d noticed the little princess’s intense gaze on him earlier in the Hall of Yan Ying and had assumed there must be something on his face he hadn’t wiped clean. Now, to his surprise, she had come to ask about this, showing an interest in medicine. Normally, such basic medical explanations would never warrant the attention of the Imperial Physician himself. But since she was a princess, Liu Shenwei considered there was no harm in indulging her, especially since he had nothing pressing at the moment, and began to explain.

“Your Highness may not know, but in the art of medicine, there are the four diagnostic methods: observation, listening and smelling, inquiry, and pulse-taking…”

Li Yuechen listened with wide, attentive eyes, appearing earnest on the surface, but in fact, she cared little for the lesson. Everything she did now was simply to lay the groundwork for her future plans.

She listened to Liu Shenwei for a while before asking, “According to Imperial Physician Liu, if I massage Grandfather’s hands, will it help relieve his fatigue?”

“A rare display of filial piety from Your Highness!” Liu Shenwei stroked his beard and nodded in praise. In this era, dutiful children were always welcomed.

“In theory, yes! The hands have many acupoints, but in practice, it's not that simple!”

After chatting with Liu Shenwei for about half an hour, Li Yuechen felt it was time to leave and took her leave directly. Once she left the Grand Ceremonial Office, she headed straight for the Bureau of Artisans. She had already made a sufficient impression on Liu Shenwei, so even if Li Zhi asked about it later, there would be nothing suspicious.

Upon hearing that the princess had arrived, the Deputy Supervisor hurried out to greet her. A middle-aged man of about forty jogged to the entrance, bowing in salute. “I was not aware of Your Highness’s arrival. Your servant…”

Li Yuechen did not wish to waste time and interrupted directly, “No need for formalities, Deputy Supervisor Wang. Could you help me find a few blacksmiths to forge some items?”

Deputy Supervisor Wang straightened. “May I ask what sort of items Your Highness needs?”

Li Yuechen raised her hand to indicate, “Iron balls of about this size.”

“Iron balls?” Deputy Supervisor Wang was momentarily taken aback, but then stroked his beard and nodded lightly. “That’s simple enough. Please follow me, Your Highness.”

Inside the Bureau of Artisans, Deputy Supervisor Wang quickly gathered several blacksmiths. Li Yuechen explained her requirements to these muscular craftsmen. “I need these items forged from pure steel into spheres, with smooth surfaces, weighing about one jin each…”

Steel did exist in this era, though it was costlier and less accessible than iron. However, for these blacksmiths—who were national-level artisans—making such steel balls was no challenge; their craftsmanship was superb.

Indeed, what Li Yuechen wanted was simple: health balls like the ones her grandfather used to rotate in his hands in her previous life. She wasn’t sure when these were first invented, but she knew they did not yet exist in this era.

After discussing the required size and specifications with the blacksmiths, she took her leave, agreeing that once completed, they would be delivered to Chamberlain Fu.

Returning to the Hall of Chengxiang, Li Yuechen continued her reading and calligraphy practice. Both Li Zhi and Wu Zetian were considered calligraphers, but more importantly, in this era, beautiful handwriting could serve as a calling card. To become a beloved, exemplary child in her parents’ eyes, it was essential to develop an elegant script.

She had never used a brush pen in her previous life and only began after arriving in this era. But that was all right—though unfamiliar with brush calligraphy, she was well-versed in hard-tip calligraphy, having copied many model books in her past life. She wasn’t sure how different hard-tip and brush calligraphy truly were, but there must be some underlying similarities.

Typically, imperial family members and aristocratic children began attending the National Academy at around ten years old. Although there were no female students, as a princess, she had special privileges if she wished. Yet Li Yuechen had little interest in the Four Books and Five Classics; even the Thousand Character Classic, meant as an introductory text, bored her to sleep, let alone reciting texts with a group of ancient scholars.

Come to think of it, the Three Character Classic probably hadn’t appeared yet in this era.

By mid-afternoon, as the time neared, Xiao He entered the hall carrying a bowl of yogurt, and found Li Yuechen murmuring to herself at her desk.

As she approached, she heard the princess’s soft, childlike voice, barely louder than a mosquito: “The way of teaching lies in devotion… What comes next again?”

“Your Highness, would you like some yogurt?”

“Mm, just set it down.”

Li Yuechen shook her head. Never mind, she really couldn’t recall.

Humanities were always her weakest suit; most of what she once knew had long been returned to her teachers. If she’d known she would one day travel back to the Tang dynasty, she would’ve memorized all the Tang and Song poetry in advance. Oh well—better to just copy out the Thousand Character Classic to practice her writing.

After finishing her yogurt and picking up her brush again, Xiao He hurried to help grind ink at her side. Li Yuechen had been practicing calligraphy for months now, but her script was still, frankly, hard to describe. The habits from her years of hard-tip calligraphy lingered—she was prone to pausing the brush, but the effect was quite different with a soft brush. The pauses made the strokes and hooks thick and heavy, while the connecting points were light and slender, like a blade’s edge.

Thus, her handwriting possessed a sharpness visible to the naked eye. The popular scripts of the day were regular and cursive, though the imperial family also favored the Feibai style. This was largely thanks to Emperor Taizong’s fondness for it, which influenced Li Zhi from a young age, and even Wu Zetian, who likely practiced it diligently to win his attention before Li Yuechen was born.

Both parents were thus accomplished, but as for Li Yuechen herself… she could barely manage ordinary cursive, let alone Feibai.

After copying a page of the Thousand Character Classic, she looked at her work and frowned slightly. “Why does this look a bit like that ‘Skinny Gold’ script by old Zhao I once saw online?”

In truth, it was quite different, but her memory of those online images had grown hazy after so long in this era. Still, the similarities in brushwork inevitably left a faint trace of that distinctive style.

As the sun began to set and the palace grew dim, Xiao He started lighting the lamps. Li Yuechen set down her brush—she would never strain her eyes reading or writing in poor light.

With nothing else to do, she decided to find her two elder sisters to play. Now that they all lived in the same palace, it was far more convenient than before. Palace life could be dull, and her sisters had just finished their studies and wanted to rest. She’d intended to go build a snowman, but considering how young she still was and the risk of catching a cold, she thought better of it. Perhaps in a few days, when the snow stopped, she could have someone make a couple of shuttlecocks to play.

She played with her sisters until sunset, had dinner, and then, being just a child, began to feel sleepy. After a yawn and wiping her eyes, she bade them farewell and returned to her own chamber to sleep.

Early the next morning, before sunrise, Li Yuechen was already awake. She did a set of yoga exercises in the palace, then walked briskly a few laps outside, ate a little, rested, and began her martial arts practice. She’d already memorized all of Liu Rengui’s routines and could now practice on her own in the palace.

People in this era typically ate two meals a day—one around ten in the morning, and another around four or five in the afternoon. But in the palace, three meals were standard; after all, one truly woke up hungry in the morning.

She practiced until noon, had lunch, then spent the afternoon reading and writing again. As sunset approached, she went to play and chat with her sisters. The day passed quickly. Just before dinner, Chamberlain Fu returned carrying a cloth bag.

“Your Highness, the items you requested are ready. Please have a look.”

Li Yuechen nodded and had him open the bag, then took out one of the objects to examine. Chamberlain Fu was surprised; he’d already weighed the steel balls and found each to be over a jin, yet the young princess could easily hold one in her hand. For a three-year-old, lifting it was impressive enough, but to grasp it so effortlessly with a single hand was truly unexpected. Her hands were still tiny and couldn’t even wrap around the six-centimeter diameter ball.

At that moment, Li Yuechen looked like an ordinary person palming a basketball, holding it up to study. Of course, she herself didn’t realize that a Tang dynasty jin was about 670 grams—a good deal heavier than later measures—which made her feat even more astonishing to Chamberlain Fu.

She picked up another with her left hand, tapped them together, and a clear clanging sound, with a faint echo, rang out. To the naked eye, the spheres were remarkably well made—perfectly round and smooth. Li Yuechen nodded in satisfaction; these truly were the works of master craftsmen. She had worried they might not turn out right, but the artisans’ skills were beyond reproach.

“Where are Father and Mother now?” she asked, putting the balls back in the bag.

“They are both still in the Hall of Yan Ying, Your Highness!”

Li Yuechen raised her small hand with a graceful wave. “Let’s go! Bring these with us.”

Chamberlain Fu had no idea what these could be for. Of the six, four were slightly larger and two smaller, but their purpose remained a mystery to him.

When they reached the Hall of Yan Ying, the young page at the door hurried inside to announce her arrival. As Li Yuechen reached the entrance, Zhang Chengxin came out to greet her. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

“Eunuch Zhang, I’ve come to see Father and Mother.”

“His Majesty said that when Your Highness arrives, you may go right in.”

Li Yuechen nodded and led Chamberlain Fu inside. “Thank you, Eunuch Zhang.”

“Please, Your Highness, there’s no need!”

Li Yuechen’s habit of saying thank you came from her previous life, and in this era, it never failed to leave the servants startled.

Inside, she found her mother, Wu Zetian, still at her desk reviewing memorials, while Li Zhi sat nearby, apparently with little to do, making tea for himself.

Seeing Li Yuechen enter, his face lit up at once. “You’re here, Chen’er! Come sit by your brother!”

“Greetings, Father and Mother.” Li Yuechen smothered a laugh and made a simple bow. The way her father still called himself “brother” was endlessly amusing to her modern soul. Even after so many years, the joke hadn’t gotten old.

She sat down beside Li Zhi, stretching her small hands toward the brazier to warm them. Wu Zetian, still reviewing memorials, asked offhandedly, “Chen’er, I heard you visited the Imperial Medical Bureau and the Bureau of Artisans yesterday. What was that about?”

Li Yuechen blinked. “I saw how hard you both work every day and asked Imperial Physician Liu if there were ways to relieve fatigue. The medical arts are profound, and I didn’t understand much, but he said massaging the hands is effective. Since I cannot always be at your side, I went to the Bureau of Artisans to have something made to serve as a substitute.”

“Oh?” Li Zhi seemed interested. “What sort of object?”

Li Yuechen gestured to Chamberlain Fu, who handed over a pair of large iron balls. “Please have a look, Father.”

Li Zhi took one in each hand, weighing them with a puzzled look. “How are these used?”

Li Yuechen placed both balls in his left palm and explained, “I think, if you rotate them like this in your hand, it may have a massaging effect.”

As she spoke, she guided his hand to rotate the balls slowly. Li Zhi, being tall and large-handed, could just manage to grasp them. With her guidance, he quickly understood how to play with them. Whether effective or not, he smiled. “You are thoughtful, Chen’er.”

Li Yuechen took out a smaller pair. “These are for Mother!”

Wu Zetian seemed curious and gave them a try, but couldn’t hold them properly and dropped them to the floor with a thud.

“They are a bit heavy!”

“I believe a little weight is best.”

It was not a difficult tool to master, and soon both parents were idly rotating them in their hands as they chatted with her.

After half an hour, Li Yuechen excused herself, seeing the pile of memorials still waiting on the desk.

After their daughter left, Li Zhi smiled. “It may be a mere plaything, but it is a token of Chen’er’s filial piety.”

“Perhaps it truly works,” Wu Zetian replied.

“Oh?” Li Zhi looked up. “Why do you say so?”

Wu Zetian smiled. “Have you not noticed? For over half an hour, your hand has never stopped moving.”

Li Zhi looked down—sure enough, the two iron balls were still slowly rotating in his left hand, and he hadn’t put them down the whole time they’d been talking.

“Hm!” Realization dawned on him. “It seems this invention is indeed something special! Chen’er is truly clever!”

Wu Zetian, however, was puzzled and rubbed her head. “But how could she have thought of this… When Liu Shenwei comes again for your next checkup, we should ask him more about it.”