Chapter 136: Debate in the Imperial Court
October 15th, the Lower Prime Festival.
After breakfast, Li Yuechen donned his Taoist robe and went to recite scriptures. The whole family followed him into the temple to perform their rites.
Within the Eastern Capital, artisans and craftsmen also visited the Taoist temple on this day to pay homage to the Old Lord.
Yet, a group of children disrupted the usual tranquility of the Eastern Capital.
This large group of boys and girls emerged from the Jixian Alley, then dispersed in different directions across the city.
Each carried a sack made of coarse cloth, stuffed with a thick stack of newspapers, loudly hawking them as they walked the streets.
“Newspapers for sale! The Great Tang Daily! Latest imperial decrees, street gossip, true and false rumors—all in the Great Tang Daily!”
The children roamed the alleys and avenues, holding up the papers and calling out their wares.
In this era, entertainment was scarce. Hearing the children’s cries, curious bystanders asked, “Young master, what is this Great Tang Daily?”
“It’s called a newspaper,” one child explained. “It contains news from all over the country. From the latest imperial policies to local rumors from every county and state—all gathered together in the Great Tang Daily!”
The crowd nodded in understanding and asked, “How much for one copy?”
“Just two Kaiyuan coins!”
The price was reasonable, but few actually bought the papers.
After all, literacy was very low; most people couldn’t make sense of what they bought.
At that moment, a handsome head peeked out from the second floor of a nearby tavern. “Young master, give me one copy!”
“All right, coming right up!”
The child selling papers eagerly ran upstairs, respectfully handing over a copy.
The young man handed over two Kaiyuan coins and began to read.
The headline on the front page caught his eye: “Under the leadership of the Emperor and Empress, Princess Taiping leads a team to achieve major breakthroughs in increasing grain yields!”
“Hm?”
The young man frowned slightly.
In this time, most written works were in classical Chinese, but the paper was in clear, vernacular language—something he wasn’t used to.
Even scholars wrote letters mostly in classical style.
Still, since he had bought it, he persevered and read on.
The article was in plain language, explaining how Princess Taiping developed a new fertilizer to increase planting density, boosting the yield per acre significantly.
Nearby, another article detailed how General Li Jingxing broke the alliance between Silla and the Mohe tribes in the former Goguryeo territory, decisively driving them back.
His wife, Lady Liu, was praised for her bravery in the battle and was honored as Lady of Yan State.
Flipping through other sections, he found mostly local gossip and trivial stories.
The last page featured a serialized story titled “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.”
Though marked as fiction, it was captivating, and he quickly finished the first installment.
Finishing the paper, the young man poured himself a cup of green ant wine, took a sip, and nodded approvingly.
“Not bad, not bad…”
Whether he praised the wine or the newspaper, it was unclear.
…
“Father! Father!”
Liu Huang ran home, waving a newspaper, sweat dripping from his brow.
In the courtyard, Liu Rengui was reading a military book while sipping tea under the pavilion.
Liu Huang hurried over, “Father, look!”
“Hm?” Liu Rengui glanced at the paper. “What is this?”
“I was practicing in the front yard when I heard someone selling this at the gate. I went to see and found a young girl hawking these,” Liu Huang wiped his forehead and explained.
Liu Rengui took the paper, noting the four bold red characters: Great Tang Daily.
The headlines and text were printed in black, arranged both horizontally and vertically in an interesting layout.
Flipping through the pages, then pausing over one article, Liu Rengui pondered deeply before looking up.
“You said someone was selling this?”
Liu Huang nodded and recounted the details of buying the paper.
After listening, Liu Rengui nodded thoughtfully and murmured, “I must prepare myself early…”
…
After the day’s rites, the children dined with the couple at Renshou Hall at noon.
In the afternoon, the family spent the time drinking tea, chatting, and playing before parting ways.
As dusk approached, Li Yuechen’s carriage stopped steadily at Jixian Alley.
Jumping down and entering the house, the gathered children stood and saluted.
Laicao, always attentive, offered a cup of yogurt.
Li Yuechen sat down, waving them to sit as well.
“Has the newspaper sales tally been calculated?”
Zhang, the eldest, replied, “Your Highness, we have just finished. A total of one thousand two hundred and thirty-five copies were sold.”
Li Yuechen nodded slightly. “Not too surprising then.”
Considering the literacy rate of the era, selling over a thousand copies the first day was already commendable.
Of course, as time passes and more people understand what it is, sales might increase.
Yet, given the era’s low literacy, even selling ten thousand copies in the Eastern Capital would be uncertain, let alone in more remote counties with even fewer literate people.
Li Yuechen waved for Fulai to distribute about twenty copper coins each to the children who sold newspapers as their day’s wages.
Then he instructed Laicao to have them stay overnight at Jixian Alley while he returned to the palace by carriage.
On the way back, Li Yuechen couldn’t help but think: now that newspapers have begun circulation, this bamboo paper could officially hit the market.
Its price was significantly lower than other papers, potentially allowing more people to afford reading.
Still, this alone couldn’t vastly increase literacy; more time and effort were needed to achieve that goal.
…
The next day was the court assembly. Li Yuechen arrived early behind the passageway, curious to see the court’s stance on the matter.
Emperor Li Zhi and Empress Wu Zetian appeared prepared, sitting primly with an air of readiness to confront challenges.
Sure enough, Secretary Vice Supervisor Cui Xinggong was the first to speak:
“Your Majesty, yesterday in the Eastern Capital, a new product appeared called the Great Tang Daily, or simply newspaper. It contains everything from imperial secrets to private matters, all compiled and sold openly on the streets… This leaks state secrets. We humbly request Your Majesty to order the arrest of the main culprits and their accomplices!”
Behind the screen, Li Yuechen shook his head with a smile at such words.
Not imperial policies, but secrets! That changes everything.
Other ministers all looked up to the emperor, awaiting his response.
Though they had seen the paper yesterday and suspected it was unlikely anyone but the emperor himself could authorize such publication, they didn’t yet know the full details.
Many guessed it was the work of Princess Taiping, known for her unusual intellect and favored by the emperor and empress.
It wasn’t surprising she would produce something like this.
Li Zhi on the throne nodded without surprise:
“I have long been aware of this. The newspaper was Princess Taiping’s idea. All contents have been reviewed and approved by me and the Empress. There is no question of leaking secrets.”
“Your Majesty, this is inappropriate!” Cui Xinggong protested, “Imperial policies are being openly sold…”
“Minister Cui misunderstands,” Li Zhi smiled and shook his head. “The paper sells for only two Kaiyuan coins per copy. It does not generate profit, and even operates at a loss.”
Cui Xinggong bowed respectfully, “Then may I ask what purpose Your Majesty has in issuing this paper?”
Li Zhi smiled faintly without a direct answer.
“I merely believe it benefits the state. Do any ministers hold differing opinions?”
Seeing the emperor avoid a direct reply, Cui Xinggong quickly said, “Your Majesty, this is damaging to the state. It should be abolished immediately!”
“And what of the other ministers?” Li Zhi asked as if not hearing him.
Behind the screen, Li Yuechen smiled at his father’s attitude.
Frankly, given Li Zhi’s disdain for noble families, this stance was expected.
The Boiling Cui clan ranks among the top seven noble families forbidden by Li Zhi’s marriage edict, the so-called highest aristocracy and leading northern clan.
Only because the Li royal family claimed descent from the Longxi Li clan did they not openly say so.
Yet many still believed it in secret, and such views were common among the populace.
Even some low-born officials in court longed to marry into these noble families.
In truth, the newspaper’s publication was clearly tacitly approved and even secretly supported by Li Zhi.
Ordinary people might not see its potential, but the astute ministers knew how powerful it could become.
Once allowed to continue, someday even the most remote regions far from the Tang center would know the emperor but not the noble houses.
That would increasingly diminish their influence in court.
Soon, many ministers voiced opposition, citing a variety of excuses—leaking secrets, harming the state, and bad influence.
Naturally, where there is opposition, there is also support.
Censor Pei Yan stepped forward:
“Your Majesty, I believe this is a good thing. In recent years of disasters, if through this the people know the court is equally anxious and actively seeking solutions, it will help stabilize the populace’s hearts…”
Zhang Wenguan likewise expressed support:
“More than that, this lets the people understand the court’s policies and reasons, see that the court works for the welfare of all, and appreciate the emperor’s kindness…”
“That is utter nonsense!” Lu Xu interrupted sharply. “If the people all debate politics, then what use are we?”
“Then do you mean that the only difference between you and the common people is the right to discuss politics?” Zhang Wenguan retorted. “If so, you might as well petition the emperor to retire early and let a random commoner take your place. According to this logic, anyone can hold your position.”
Lu Xu’s eyes flashed:
“Don’t twist my words! When have I said my position is unimportant?”
“If not, why care whether the people debate politics or not?” Zhang Wenguan smiled. “If the people debate politics, it will also help them understand the difficulties the court faces…”
…
The debate quickly heated without preliminaries.
Li Zhi and Wu Zetian were mentally prepared, sitting silently and listening to the ministers argue.
Behind the screen, Li Yuechen was somewhat surprised.
She had expected a confrontation between the emperor and ministers, but instead, the emperor calmly observed the discussion.
After all, in this era, so-called “commoner” ministers were rare if not nonexistent.
Court officials were still largely sons of noble families; logically, they should unite against the emperor, but the result was unexpected.
Though fierce, the debate missed the core point in Li Yuechen’s eyes.
No one yet imagined what would happen if, someday, literacy in Tang society multiplied severalfold.
But to them, that was inconceivable.
Commoners couldn’t afford education, and the court lacked funds for public schooling.
Li Yuechen knew this but would not reveal it now.
When the time came, if she succeeded, it would be too late for them to oppose again.
Smiling faintly, a subtle, slightly cunning smile crossed her lips, the dimples on her cheeks adding an unexpected hardness to her beautiful face.
The debate lasted half an hour, leaving the ministers parched and their voices lowered.
Li Zhi then asked, “What does the Crown Prince think?”
Li Hong stood, saluted, and said:
“I believe the benefits outweigh the drawbacks! If everyone holds loyalty to the court, it naturally benefits the nation. Not only will it produce outstanding talents for the Tang in the future, but it will also bring the people and court closer, easing the implementation of any future policies…”
The Crown Prince’s words were impeccable and supportive.
As heir apparent, he spoke from the emperor’s perspective—this was clearly good.
More importantly, it was his sister’s idea; how could it be bad?
Li Hong glanced toward the back passage and saw Li Yuechen giving him a determined fist squeeze.