Chapter 118: Choosing the Editor

The next morning, after finishing her practice, Li Yuechen hurriedly took a quick bath and then, before lunch, sat at her desk to sketch out the designs she had in mind.

That afternoon, she brought several carpenters to Mangshan. Standing before the earthen slope, she handed over her drawings to them, explaining in detail what she wanted as they studied the plans together.

In simple terms, she wanted to lay long wooden planks along the hillside, serving as tracks, and craft wooden carts whose wheels resembled train wheels, perfectly fitting into the tracks.

They would build a large wheel atop the mountain, similar to a well’s pulley system but operated by two people instead of one, significantly reducing the effort.

At the same time, she requested the blacksmiths to forge a ratchet mechanism to prevent the carts from slipping back if the rope were accidentally released.

Overall, it was a relatively simple contraption, something she had heard her grandfather mention was used during their commune days.

In this era, such tasks were still manageable. The real challenge lay in the roads.

Li Yuechen wanted to improve the paths but found no suitable solution.

Simple road compaction was difficult to guarantee. Without steamrollers in this age, such tedious work relied on people hammering stakes into the ground one by one—a very inefficient process.

Using animals to drag a round stone roller was possible but only effective on flat roads, making it unsuitable for mountainous terrain.

The carpenters quickly understood her concept and nodded in agreement, confident they could accomplish it swiftly.

Recently, these carpenters had been completely won over by the princess’s ingenious ideas; if she designed it, it was sure to work.

After resolving the matter there, Li Yuechen turned her attention to another task besides classes—movable type printing.

Since she had decided to publish a newspaper, relying on hand-copying was out of the question; printing technology was essential.

Two days later, Li Yuechen arrived at Renshou Hall carrying two brand-new scrolls.

Li Zhi looked at them expectantly. “What are these? Has Chen’er written another new supernatural tale?”

“No, these are empty,” Li Yuechen smiled, unrolling the scrolls.

“Bringing two empty scrolls—what’s the meaning?”

Li Yuechen smiled mysteriously. “I want both of you to each write a thousand-character essay here, using your own calligraphy styles, plus various kinds of characters.”

Wu Zetian raised an eyebrow. She was already weary from reviewing memorials daily, and now she was asked to copy a thousand-character essay.

Yet, she did not lose her temper and instead asked first, “Chen’er, what do you intend to do with these?”

“When my paper mill succeeds, I plan to publish a newspaper using the calligraphy of Father and Mother for printing.”

Li Zhi rolled a health ball in his hand. “What kind of thing is this newspaper?”

Li Yuechen poured tea and sat across from him, explaining it all.

After listening, Li Zhi and Wu Zetian exchanged a glance, both seeing surprise in each other’s eyes.

If such a thing appeared, it would indeed be a powerful tool to consolidate imperial authority.

Of course, its appearance would certainly cause a stir among the ministers.

But fundamentally, it wasn’t a big deal; after all, it was just a bulletin in a new form.

Previously, announcements were posted on the palace walls, but most people didn’t bother to read them.

Literacy was low, so only scholars might glance, and if in a good mood, they might explain the contents to curious bystanders.

However, this was limited to the capital. In other cities, the reach of such announcements was much weaker.

The mountains were high and the emperor far away; local matters were often unknown to the throne.

Seeing the joy in their eyes, Li Yuechen leaned on the desk. “This way, when I print newspapers with your calligraphy, everyone in the empire will recognize your handwriting. Of course, if talented ministers arise, their calligraphy could also be published…”

“Very well, then write!” Li Zhi was clearly interested.

Li Yuechen nodded. “Remember to write smaller characters with wider spacing to make it easier for the craftsmen to produce the type.”

“All right, all right…” Li Zhi chuckled. “I’m quick, but my beloved consort, who reviews my memorials daily, will likely be slower.”

“That’s fine. After you both finish, I will collect them,” Li Yuechen said with a smile.

After her departure, Li Zhi looked at the two blank scrolls and laughed.

“Unexpected… truly unexpected! Once this is out, some people will be restless, won’t they?”

Wu Zetian smiled nearby. “Restless or not, they must endure. This is an open strategy!”

Meanwhile, Li Yuechen went to the Imperial Workshop to discuss with the artisans what materials would be best for making movable type.

According to textbooks, wood was unsuitable for movable type; bronze or lead types were better.

Both materials were not particularly rare in this era.

Bronze vessels were common, and many cosmetics contained lead powder.

Some even believed lead had medicinal properties.

Seeing the princess sitting at the desk, legs crossed, sipping yogurt, the blacksmiths knew something important was afoot.

After greeting her, Li Yuechen waved for them to remain seated and began explaining movable type printing.

The era already had woodblock printing, but costs were high.

Movable type was complicated to produce but, once completed, easier to maintain.

After this brief primer, Li Yuechen said, “Though clay type might work, considering durability, I prefer copper, iron, or other materials. Any suggestions?”

A blacksmith pondered. “Your Highness, the material must take ink well; copper or iron should work…”

Li Yuechen nodded. “Copper and iron are costly. What about lead?”

“That’s uncertain, as there’s no precedent,” the elder blacksmith shook his head. “But if you’re not in a hurry, we can experiment.”

“Then let’s try,” Li Yuechen agreed. “This is important and must proceed swiftly!”

“Yes, Your Highness!” the blacksmith responded.

Clay types were already underway, and the paper mill outside the city began construction.

Li Yuechen planned to use bamboo for paper, as it was low-cost and would reduce paper prices.

Though bamboo paper might not be as pure white, it would suffice for most impoverished scholars.

As for the newspaper, there was no expectation of profit; in fact, it would operate at a loss.

The newspaper’s purpose was to influence public opinion, so it couldn’t be priced too high—two Kaiyuan coins per copy would be symbolic.

One complication was that bamboo needed to soak for at least three months before papermaking.

Since the paper mill wasn’t fully operational yet, they could soak bamboo in advance.

The next day, Li Yuechen visited the Imperial Tailoring Bureau.

Now that cotton was available, cotton cloth could be made, so gauze should be feasible too.

When the paper mill discharged wastewater, they planned to filter it through gauze multiple times to minimize pollution of the Luo River.

Li Yuechen knew environmental protection was difficult in this era, but wherever possible, they should take care and leave a better legacy for future generations.

After instructing the Tailoring Bureau to trial gauze production, this matter was temporarily settled.

Since the newspaper would issue royal news, the chief editor must be trustworthy.

After consideration, Li Yuechen decided to appoint Princess Yiyang as chief editor and Shangguan Wan’er as editor.

Yiyang was family and a royal princess.

Shangguan Wan’er had grown up with her and would obey.

Moreover, Shangguan Wan’er had compiled the Hundred Family Surnames, demonstrating her literary talent.

This future female prime minister would surely handle editorial duties with ease.

A few days later, Li Yuechen stayed in and summoned Princess Yiyang and Shangguan Wan’er.

“Sisters, once my paper mill is ready, I plan to publish a newspaper. I need you to serve as chief editor and editor.”

They exchanged confused looks.

“Chen’er, we’ve never heard of these titles,” Yiyang said. “What are the duties?”

Shangguan Wan’er nodded in agreement.

Li Yuechen explained what a newspaper was and summarized, “Simply put, it gathers information in one place, not only announcing court policies but also publishing missing person notices, supernatural tales, and other news…”

Having understood, Princess Yiyang cautiously asked, “This is a great undertaking…”

“Don’t worry, Father has approved!” Li Yuechen smiled. “And he told me to proceed freely!”

Upon hearing this, Yiyang nodded, “Then it’s settled!”

Shangguan Wan’er appeared nervous but her bright eyes showed determination. “As long as I can help Your Highness, I will do my best!”

Li Yuechen patted her head with a broad smile. “I trust you completely!”

Seeing the trust on her face, Shangguan Wan’er smiled softly.

A few days later, Li Yuechen returned to Mangshan to check on the progress of the blast furnace.

Impressively, the general shape had emerged, and wooden tracks had been laid on the hillside.

Following Li Yuechen’s design, carts with train-like wheels were easily pulled up by ropes.

After transporting vast amounts of earth, they raised the platform. The platform was initially three zhang high, but the furnace was five zhang tall, so the platform had to be raised accordingly.

Artisans carefully carved slots to hold the furnace, while tilers discussed construction plans nearby.

Watching this, Li Yuechen nodded approvingly; mass production of high-quality steel would greatly enhance the Tang army’s weaponry.

She then beckoned Fulai. “Bring some of those gray-black stones used for making glaze. Let the craftsmen experiment to see if they can produce higher-grade steel.”

Fulai’s face showed surprise. “Those stones have such properties?”

“Unknown, but worth trying,” Li Yuechen said, shaking her head.

She had heard of manganese steel but knew nothing of its proportions.

So she could offer no advice, leaving the craftsmen to experiment.

If they succeeded, she could gift her master Liu Rengui a fine weapon.

As a seasoned battlefield general, such a gift would be invaluable.

In good spirits, Li Yuechen chuckled.

With the blast furnace, paper mill, and movable type printing underway, Tang would soon undergo a profound transformation.

On the way back to the palace, sitting in her carriage, Li Yuechen puckered her lips and whistled.

Fulai, listening for a while, suddenly said, “I didn’t expect Your Highness to be so familiar with music.”

“Familiar, my foot,” Li Yuechen replied with a smile. “Those are just songs well-known in the future.”

Speaking of musical talent, her father Li Zhi was first, followed by her second brother Li Xian.

Though mischievous with his younger siblings, Li Xian was genuinely talented in literature and music.

Perhaps they could select some suitable pieces for him to transcribe the complete scores.

Time passed swiftly, and soon it was April.

There was little news worth noting lately, except for the recurring skirmishes between Gao Kan and Silla.

Perhaps wanting a share of the spoils, even the Mohe people had begun occasionally wandering nearby, looking for opportunities to raid.

Li Zhi, seated on the dragon throne, rubbed his head in frustration after hearing the reports.

Honestly, this wasn’t a good time for Tang to wage war, but the Silla provocations could not be ignored.

Veteran generals like Liu Rengui and Pei Xingjian petitioned to lead troops into battle and beat them up.

However, Tang’s current shortages in supplies made large-scale war unfeasible.

Generals might act impulsively, but the emperor had to consider whether the campaign would be beneficial.

Moreover, the conflicts were more like minor clashes than true wars.

After deliberation, Li Zhi ordered Li Jin to lead 30,000 troops to assist Gao Kan.

They were to avoid initiating battles but, if provoked, to retaliate fiercely.

Hearing this, Li Yuechen in the corridor exclaimed, “Truly worthy of the emperor! Such vision!”

Li Jin himself was Mohe, so the order was also a subtle test.

Li Yuechen lowered her head in thought.

Unconsciously, she had begun to think from the emperor’s perspective.