Chapter Forty-Five: Tang Dynasty's Black Technology

Watching Shangguan Wan’er pedaling the tricycle with delight as she circled the Anfu Hall, Li Yuechen smiled at her but quickly sank into her own thoughts.

The tricycle could function here only because the palace floors were paved with stone slabs, making for a remarkably smooth surface. But once outside the city, on the official roads, riding such a vehicle would become a far more arduous task. The road itself and the tires—these were problems that would be difficult to solve in this era.

The condition of the roads was the greatest obstacle. She could barely recall anything about making cement, and even if she remembered, producing it now and using it to pave roads seemed almost impossible. The Tang Dynasty simply could not bear the cost of such a colossal undertaking.

As for tires... natural rubber trees, if she recalled correctly, originated in the Americas. And even natural rubber is quite different from the kind used in tires. In this age, that was a problem with no foreseeable solution.

She did know a fair bit about tires herself, having often ridden off-road motorcycles and mountain bikes. She’d even visited the Mitas factory and discussed her desired specifications with their designers. It was precisely because of this that she understood how complicated it would be to manufacture tires here.

For now, being able to produce these iron-spoked wheels was already quite an achievement. Then there was the matter of bearings. The craftsmen of this era could probably manage large bearings, but whether they could make ones suitable for wheels was another question altogether.

Quality was another issue; the steel of this era could not compare with that of later generations. It was rare and expensive. So, this amusing little tricycle soon became the talk of the entire Anfu Hall.

Princesses Xuancheng and Yiyang had also come out to see it, perhaps hoping to try it themselves, but it was built to fit Li Yuechen’s size, so neither of them could squeeze in.

Seeing Li Yuechen leaning against the pillar of Linbo Pavilion, lost in thought, Princess Xuancheng ran over and gently pinched her delicate cheek.

“What are you thinking about, Chen’er? You look so troubled!”

Li Yuechen pursed her lips. “I was just wondering if there’s any way to make better wheels.”

“What’s wrong with the wheels now?” Princess Yiyang asked, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t all carriages use these wheels nowadays?”

Li Yuechen shook her head, saying nothing.

She had been thinking of bringing the mahjong set to show Li Zhi, but suddenly realized she’d forgotten to have a table made.

Helpless, she sent Xiao He to the Workshop Supervisory Office to have them make a square table, and told her to have the Wardrobe Bureau prepare a piece of felted wool.

For now, she thought, it would suffice to let Li Zhi see her little tricycle.

She called out to Shangguan Wan’er, “Come down for now. I’ll show it to Father and Mother first. You can ride it again when I return.”

“Yes!” Shangguan Wan’er replied eagerly and hopped down.

Li Yuechen pedaled her little tricycle all the way to the Renshou Hall. The palace maids and eunuchs she passed stared in amazement, some even forgetting to bow.

She didn’t mind at all, humming to herself as she rode toward Renshou Hall.

Zhang Chengxin, standing guard at the door, saw her from a distance and hurried inside to inform Li Zhi and Wu Zetian that the princess was approaching in a horseless cart.

Li Zhi and Wu Zetian stood up at once and came to the entrance. As they stepped out, they saw Li Yuechen, dressed in red, humming an unfamiliar tune as she pedaled her tricycle toward them.

When she saw them, Li Yuechen waved, pedaled a few more times, and stopped outside Renshou Hall.

“Father, Mother, look! What do you think of my tricycle?” Li Yuechen called out as she dismounted.

Li Zhi crouched down immediately to examine the tricycle, while Wu Zetian frowned at her ponytail. “Why is your hairstyle so careless?”

“I find the high bun too troublesome,” Li Yuechen replied, shaking her head. “Don’t you think this style is simple and elegant, Mother?”

Wu Zetian’s brows furrowed. “Such a casual hairstyle—how is that different from a commoner?”

Li Yuechen laughed and stepped closer. “Why must we pursue difference in hairstyles? Does this not suit a princess? Or, if Father were to take off his imperial robe, would he cease to be the Son of Heaven?”

“Enough!” Wu Zetian’s voice rang out sharply. “Such—”

“It’s nothing! Nothing at all!” Li Zhi interjected with a wave and a smile. “Chen’er is right. Even if I wear plain cloth, am I not still the emperor of the Tang?”

Li Yuechen hugged Wu Zetian and laughed. “Mother, you should try this hairstyle too—it’s much more comfortable!”

Wu Zetian frowned. “I am the Empress of the Tang—”

“Yes, and now that you’re Empress, shouldn’t you be more at ease?” Li Yuechen grinned. “I’m sure Father would like to see you with this hairstyle as well.”

Li Zhi nodded. “Indeed, I would!”

“There, you see!” Li Yuechen stuck out her tongue at Wu Zetian.

Wu Zetian, used to her husband’s indulgence of their daughter, could only sigh and step forward to examine the tricycle.

Men seemed to have a natural fascination with mechanical things. Li Zhi circled the tricycle, then shook his head with regret.

“Why not make a larger one, Chen’er, so I could try it with you?”

“Uh…” Li Yuechen imagined the scene and felt it was best left untried.

“Don’t worry, Father. Once I’ve studied it a bit more, I’ll make an even better one for you and Mother!” she promised.

Li Zhi nodded. “That would be wonderful!”

But when or if she could actually make it was anyone’s guess. A large tricycle was easy enough in theory, but as always, the tires remained the biggest challenge.

After some playful banter with her parents, Li Yuechen returned to Anfu Hall and began sketching designs for a bearing.

As she thought about it, in this era, making a large bearing was possible, but the minimum size was uncertain.

Lying on her desk, she mused and drew. It seemed that roller bearings would be easier than ball bearings for artisans of this era. But fixing the rollers in place posed a problem—how to keep them from rubbing against each other?

From this perspective, ball bearings might actually be simpler, as all that was needed was a basic ball separator.

As for making the spheres themselves... well, that was not her concern—that was for the craftsmen to solve.

Perhaps noticing her frustration, Shangguan Wan’er came over softly. “Your Highness, shall I light some incense? It might help calm your mind.”

“Mm.” Li Yuechen nodded absently, continuing to draw.

Soon, Shangguan Wan’er brought a small hollow metal sphere and hung it from the brush rack beside the desk.

Wisps of smoke rose from the ornate censer, and the scent made Li Yuechen wrinkle her nose and glance up.

But as she did, she froze, then reached out and took the metal ball in her hand.

The small spherical censer could be split into two halves, joined by a pin-like mechanism. But what drew her attention—

She brought it closer and opened the pin, only to be thoroughly surprised.

Inside the brass bowl, the incense burned, sending up gentle smoke. But the bowl itself was connected to three metal rings, each larger than the last.

No matter how she rotated the sphere in her hand, the incense bowl always remained upright, the ashes never spilling, held steady by gravity.

Seeing this clear mechanical structure, Li Yuechen’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Amazing! A gyroscope?

In this era? That seemed impossible!

And yet, the surprises were not over. She noticed that the two halves of the sphere were joined by a hinge—a simple one, but a hinge nonetheless.

Was this really the Tang Dynasty?

Finally coming to her senses, Li Yuechen called out, “Xiao He!”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

She held up the censer. “Who made this?”

“It came from the Gold and Silver Workshop, but I don’t know the specific artisan...”

“Gold and Silver Workshop?” This was the first she had heard of it. “Who oversees it?”

“The Palace Supply Directorate.”

Li Yuechen immediately stood, rolled up her bearing design, and waved. “Come with me!”

Shangguan Wan’er, curious, asked, “Are you angry, Your Highness?”

“Angry?” Li Yuechen broke into a grin. “Wan’er, do you know what this is?”

“Isn’t it a censer?” Shangguan Wan’er asked, puzzled.

Li Yuechen shook her head solemnly, holding the censer before her. “This is a treasure—a tremendous treasure!”

With that, she and Xiao He hurried off to the Palace Supply Directorate.

Li Yuechen could barely contain her excitement as she made her way to the Gold and Silver Workshop, humming softly as she went.

Along the way, Xiao He explained that this department gathered the most skilled artisans from across the land to make jewelry and objects for the royal family.

For example, pure silver lotus candlesticks, jeweled hairpins for the consorts, and gold and silver serving platters for banquets—all were crafted here.

The workshop was not far, located within the imperial city, and formally known as the Gold and Silver Workshop Courtyard.

Perhaps because of the valuable metals involved, it was heavily guarded. As she approached, all those she passed bowed in respect.

Unlike her two elder sisters, Li Yuechen often visited the inner city, so most of the staff recognized her.

At the entrance, the guard saluted. “Greetings, Your Highness!”

“No need for formalities!” Li Yuechen said, striding inside. Xiao He hurried after her.

The deputy supervisor, Liu, happened to be present and bowed. “Your servant greets Your Highness!”

“No need,” Li Yuechen said, raising the censer. “I’d like to meet the artisan who made this, if you please.”

Liu looked and nodded. “If Your Highness will wait a moment, I’ll send for him.”

He led her to his office and had yogurt served as she waited.

About ten minutes later, a middle-aged man in plain hemp robes, looking to be around forty but already weathered and bearded, entered nervously.

People aged quickly in this era, Li Yuechen mused. No wonder men over forty called themselves ‘old men’—it seemed appropriate.

He bowed deeply. “Greetings, Your Highness!”

“You may rise. What is your name?”

He answered respectfully, “Your servant’s name is... Wang Gangdan.”

Li Yuechen nearly burst out laughing but quickly composed herself. She held up the censer. “Did you make this?”

He examined it and nodded slightly. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Can you read?” she asked.

“No, Your Highness.”

She nodded, but handed him the blueprint. “Can you make this? If there is anything you do not understand, ask me now.”

Wang Gangdan took the drawing respectfully and studied it, then looked at her in confusion.

“If there’s something you don’t understand, just ask,” Li Yuechen encouraged.

“Your Highness wishes to place a small ball within two rings?” he asked.

Li Yuechen nodded. “Exactly! But they must not touch—so a separator is needed…”

With her explanation, Wang Gangdan grasped what she wanted.

“What material shall I use, Your Highness?”

“Steel,” she replied. “And it must be very small.”

He looked up. “How small?”

She held her thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart. “This small!”

She added, “If you can make it, I’ll personally request a reward for you from His Majesty—generous rewards await! If you cannot, there will be no punishment.”

She said this to motivate him: no penalty for failure, but great reward for success.

Wang Gangdan nodded. “I am confident I can do it, Your Highness, but it cannot be done quickly. Is there urgency?”

“How long will it take?”

“At least half a year,” he replied.

Li Yuechen could not help feeling disappointed, but nodded. “No matter. So long as you can make it, I give you my word!”

Wang Gangdan bowed. “Then I beg Your Highness to be patient.”

Leaving the Gold and Silver Workshop Courtyard, Li Yuechen took a deep breath. She had thought she might have a bicycle soon, but now she realized the road ahead was still long.

Behind her, Xiao He asked, “Your Highness, what if he cannot make it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Li Yuechen replied, gazing up at the sky with a smile. “At least, in my lifetime, this promise will always stand!”