Chapter 74: The Assault
By the time she left the Hall of Benevolent Longevity, the sun had already set, and the sky was gradually turning a deep blue, with the stars growing brighter and brighter.
After bidding her brothers farewell, Li Yuechen returned to the Hall of Peaceful Fortune with her two elder sisters. The fatigue that had weighed on her sisters during the journey back from outside the city had now entirely vanished, and they were once again lively and spirited. As for Shangguan Wan’er, she was at an age where children are naturally energetic.
They had just dined with Emperor Li Zhi at the Hall of Benevolent Longevity, and now Li Yuechen also thought she should do something to aid digestion before sleeping. In the end, the three of them played hopscotch in the courtyard for a while, then went to the Pavilion by the Rippling Waves to watch the stars and tell stories.
Originally, Li Yuechen had planned for them to gather on her bed in the inner chambers, light a candle, and tell ghost stories. But, considering how superstitious people were in this era, she decided it might be unwise—she didn’t want to frighten anyone into a heart attack.
Before long, Xiao He came out to remind them, “Your Highnesses, it is the hour of the dog; time to rest.”
Li Yuechen agreed, wished her sisters goodnight, and turned to retire to her chambers.
Shangguan Wan’er followed, her little face full of curiosity. “Your Highness, how do you know so many stories?”
“I dream them,” Li Yuechen replied with a smile, patting her head. “Sleep early—you might dream up some stories of your own.”
“Alright!” Shangguan Wan’er seemed to believe her, nodding with anticipation. She bowed and left.
Watching her go, Li Yuechen shook her head, thinking to herself how easy it was to fool children—how adorable!
...
After lunch the next day, Li Yuechen hurried back to the Hall of Benevolent Longevity.
She deftly poured tea for Wu Zetian, who was reviewing memorials at the desk, and then sat down beside Li Zhi. “Father, may I present you with a gift?”
“A gift?” Li Zhi asked, puzzled. “Wasn’t the Shangsi Festival just yesterday?”
“It’s not for the Shangsi Festival. In three months, it will be Father’s birthday. I want to make you a birthday present,” Li Yuechen said with a grin.
This piqued Li Zhi’s interest, and Wu Zetian also turned her head to listen.
“Has my clever daughter devised some new contraption?” Li Zhi asked, rolling his health balls in one hand.
Li Yuechen nodded. “I plan to make a four-wheeled carriage for Father—one that is more stable and comfortable!”
Four-wheeled carriages had been considered before, but the issue of steering remained unsolved. Li Zhi had seen such carriages used by merchants, but turning them required brute force, and there was always the risk of overturning.
“Can you solve the steering problem?” Li Zhi inquired.
“Absolutely!” Li Yuechen replied with confidence.
In truth, the imperial carriages of this era were not as grand as in the movies. The emperor’s travel conveyances fell into a few categories. The first was the palanquin, a large open sedan chair carried by a varying number of strongmen. It looked plain enough, but the entourage that surrounded it made for an impressive spectacle.
Another type was the jinricksha-like carriage, pulled by people. The highest standard was called the “Imperial Coach,” reserved for grand occasions, adorned with bells and dragons and phoenixes, but still only large enough for four people at most. It was pulled by six horses, and from the front, one saw only the horses, not the carriage itself.
Hearing that Li Yuechen could solve the steering issue, Li Zhi thought for a moment and asked, “What support do you require from me?”
“I’ll need a lot of materials. As long as Father orders the Directorate of Works to fully cooperate, that will suffice,” Li Yuechen replied.
“Very well!” Li Zhi nodded, smiling as he patted her on the head. “Permission granted!”
Li Yuechen stood and gave him a hug. “Father, you are mighty!”
Not forgetting her mother, she ran over and gave her a hug as well. Even though Wu Zetian wore a look of disdain, she did not resist in the slightest.
...
With Li Zhi’s orders secured, Li Yuechen returned to the Hall of Peaceful Fortune that afternoon and immediately began drafting her designs.
The steering issue had to be addressed first, and this could be broken down into two parts: the chassis below and the carriage body above.
Li Yuechen first drew a design for a segmented chassis—in essence, two frames joined together, with the rear frame attached to the front. This way, when turning, the front wheels would move first, followed by the rear wheels, functioning much like the cars of a train.
Then came the issue of the carriage body. Since the chassis below would turn, the upper carriage body would also need to bend accordingly. To prevent the body from breaking, it too had to be made in two sections, connected by a hinge. Instead of the European style, Li Yuechen opted for a hinge structure, confident that the craftsmen of the time, who could make hinges smaller than a fingernail, could easily make larger ones.
Many of the articulated buses in modern times use such a structure, with an accordion-style connector made of leather—both beautiful and functional.
Li Yuechen had thought she was so familiar with the structure that drawing it would be simple, but when she finally finished, five days had passed.
Resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, she gazed up at the ceiling. Would she make it in time for her father’s birthday?
Li Zhi’s birthday was the fifteenth of the sixth month, and today was the seventh day of the third month. Three months—would that be enough to build it? Well, she’d already made her promise; there was no turning back. Besides, with the Directorate of Works ordered to cooperate fully, she could always request more people.
With this in mind, Li Yuechen gathered the stack of blueprints she’d drawn over the past five days and headed straight for the Directorate of Works.
...
At the Directorate of Works, they’d already been on high alert ever since receiving the emperor’s command two days earlier. After all, whenever the princess wanted something made, she usually just dropped by and said so. This time, with an imperial order for full cooperation, it was sure to be either a massive project or something extremely complicated.
When Superintendent Wang saw the stack of drawings in Li Yuechen’s arms, he realized at once that this would be a very troublesome task. Nevertheless, he dared not delay. He ordered yogurt to be prepared and gathered all the craftsmen.
Li Yuechen went straight to the wall and instructed that her drawings be posted in order along it. Then she began to explain, “What we are to make this time is a four-wheeled carriage…”
One by one, the blueprints went up, and she explained each step in detail.
To save time, she designed the carriage body with many cut-outs. By tradition, the emperor’s carriage required a ceremonial yellow parasol—not only for sun and rain, but as a symbol of status. Li Yuechen, however, omitted this, instead designing a canopy similar to a rickshaw’s, with fabric stretched over a frame that could be pulled up for shade.
The accordion joint between the fabric and the carriage body was tricky for the craftsmen, and would require collaboration with the Tailoring Bureau.
To reduce weight, many sections were designed with openwork.
The most troublesome part was the wheels. Wooden wheels were heavy, and when Li Yuechen asked if they could be replaced with iron, the blacksmiths said it would take too long. Forging iron was time-consuming, and while the tires could be made, the spokes would need to be individually hammered out.
After hearing their explanation, Li Yuechen scratched her head. “Think carefully—can you suggest any alternative materials?”
As she sipped the yogurt that Fulai handed her, a carpenter suddenly bowed and said, “Your Highness, there is a batch of bamboo from the southern tribes, sent as tribute a few years ago. It was intended for making implements, but is extremely hard…”
Hearing this, Li Yuechen’s thoughts turned to something she’d seen during her travels. In Zhaotong, she’d heard of a special type of bamboo in Yunnan. Could this be the same? Her face lit up in delight.
“Bring it here at once!” she exclaimed eagerly.
“Yes, Your Highness. Please wait a moment.”
Soon, the carpenter returned with a slender bamboo pole, which he offered with both hands. “Please examine it, Your Highness.”
Li Yuechen took it, her eyes shining with excitement—it was indeed Yunnan iron bamboo! Much harder than ordinary bamboo, perfect for spokes and much lighter, too.
“We’ll use this,” she ordered.
...
She then discussed the details with the craftsmen, instructing them to begin work simultaneously to save time. The carpenters would build the body, the blacksmiths the chassis, and the tailors would coordinate on measurements before beginning.
Though the carriage looked large, it was not difficult to make, especially since much of the material was saved. Once seated, the railing came only to the waist, apart from the backrest. And since the imperial carriage was never meant for speed, there was no need to worry about passengers being thrown out.
With all instructions given, Li Yuechen promised to visit often and answer any questions promptly. The goal was to have the carriage operational by her father’s birthday, with decorative carving to be added later if need be.
Though it appeared only slightly larger than the old ceremonial coach, it could actually seat ten! Li Yuechen also specified eight horses—four in front, four behind—to pull it.
With everything arranged, she glanced at the sky, where the setting sun painted the clouds red, and left.
...
Back at the Hall of Peaceful Fortune, Li Yuechen looked at the lush green seedlings and smiled. Everything was progressing smoothly—perhaps this year would bear good results. Droughts had plagued Guanzhong in recent years, and Li Yuechen truly hoped there would be no more famine.
Folding her hands in prayer to the seedlings, she skipped back to the palace.
Inside, the Princess of Yiyang was playing Go with Shangguan Wan’er, while the Princess of Xuancheng sat nearby, working on a Sudoku puzzle Li Yuechen had taught her.
When she returned, Shangguan Wan’er rose to bow. Li Yuechen waved her hand for them to continue and sat down to watch. She didn’t understand the game at all, but it was a pleasant way to pass the time before dinner.
...
The next day after lunch, Fulai reported that the new workers at the workshop had begun training, and production would soon double.
Li Yuechen decided to visit. Shangguan Wan’er and the others had lost interest after their first trip, so this time Li Yuechen took only Fulai and set off in a carriage.
Twenty plainclothes palace guards surrounded the carriage for protection.
At the workshop, the workers greeted her respectfully. Most were men, but there were three women, all quiet and a bit slow to respond, one even bearing a scar on her face. Li Yuechen guessed they had suffered mistreatment before being sold. But she didn’t ask; she was sure that, in time, they would realize life here was better than before.
After checking on their progress and finding it satisfactory, she nodded and prepared to leave.
The carriage rolled out of Jixian Lane, passed through Jiashan Lane, and headed slowly towards the Luo River. Li Yuechen lifted the curtain to look out, considering whether to stop by her preserved food shop in the southern market. As a princess, she wasn’t supposed to appear there, so she usually just glanced from the carriage.
On the bustling street, pedestrians made way for a carriage accompanied by armed guards.
But after turning a corner, the leading palace guards spotted two plainly dressed men approaching—each holding a horizontal saber!
The two guards at the front exchanged glances, placed their right hands on their hilts, and barked, “Halt! Who goes there?”
But the two strangers suddenly stepped forward, drawing their swords with a sharp clang. In an instant, they closed the distance.
The palace guards reacted quickly, stepping back and drawing their own blades, but they were a moment too late—a flash of steel, and both men fell, blood gushing from slashed throats.
As they collapsed, the coachman shouted, “Attack! Protect Her Highness!”