Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Buddha Statue

After arriving at her office, Li Yuechen glanced around and couldn’t help but shake her head. Everything else was manageable, but the low, cramped desk was just uncomfortable to use. She gestured to Fulai, “Bring over my chair, stool, and the taller desk set.”

“Right away!” Fulai responded promptly.

“I’d originally planned to produce a batch to sell, but what a shame…” Li Yuechen lamented, shaking her head regretfully.

In this era without intellectual property rights, once these desks and chairs were seen, many would surely try to replicate them on their own.

Who in the Tang court didn’t know about Princess Taiping’s inventions? Even the lower clerks often fiddled with health balls in their hands daily.

Most couldn’t afford steel or jade, so they used wooden ones instead—easy to replace if dropped.

Li Yuechen casually unfurled a scroll and began leafing through it.

Scrolls of this time roughly fell into two types.

One had the approximate word count directly written on the top.

The other used the scroll as a backing sheet, with pages of written content pasted one by one onto it, allowing the scroll to be flipped through like a book.

Because the pages curved when unrolled, resembling a gust of wind blowing through, this was called the “whirlwind style.”

The scroll in her hands now was exactly this kind.

Before long, about a dozen clerks arrived on the second floor and bowed outside the door.

“Your Highness, we pay our respects!”

“Don’t stand on ceremony. Come in,” Li Yuechen said, rolling up the scroll and looking up.

These were the staff responsible for accounting—some promoted internally, others passing the official calculations exam.

One elder, appearing close to fifty, asked, “May we ask why Your Highness summoned us?”

Li Yuechen nodded. “There are quite a few unclear points in these accounts. While nothing major, please be more thorough in the future. You may take them back now.”

The dozen exchanged glances. The elder at the front suddenly bowed again. “Pardon our boldness, Your Highness, but these accounts were taken by Eunuch Fu three days ago. May we ask if Your Highness really reconciled such a massive ledger in just three days?”

Actually, it only took two days, Li Yuechen thought silently.

But seeing their expressions, she understood—first, the accounting method was chaotic; second, computational speed in this era was indeed slow.

Still, Li Yuechen had no mood to explain. She turned and sat on the desk, crossing her left leg over her right.

“Do you doubt that I’m toying with you?”

“We dare not, Your Highness, but—”

She raised a hand to cut him off. “Doubt is no offense. Feel free to take the accounts back and reconcile them again. Then compare your results with mine.”

With that, the clerks said no more and left, scrolls in hand.

Li Yuechen didn’t dislike their skepticism; in fact, she admired it.

This era wasn’t like the dramas where commoners prostrated themselves immediately upon seeing royalty.

It was good for subordinates to occasionally voice their suggestions to superiors.

Unfortunately, Li Yuechen wasn’t in the mood for a debate, so she sent them off to verify the accounts themselves.

With the accounting settled, the next task was far more important.

“Summon the Deputy Minister of the Department of Agriculture,” Li Yuechen instructed Fulai with a wave.

“Right away!”

About five minutes later, a man around forty, with a small mustache, was brought in.

“I am Liu Zihe, Your Highness’s humble servant,” he bowed.

Li Yuechen raised her hand. “No need for ceremony, Deputy Minister Liu. I am studying grain yield issues, which I presume you are aware of.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I am deeply impressed,” Liu Zihe said with an admiring expression. “Such merit…”

“Enough. That is not what I want to discuss.” Li Yuechen interrupted. “Though the experiments have succeeded, nationwide promotion will take time. This requires your utmost effort. The sooner it is fully implemented, the sooner the people of Tang will suffer less from famine.”

She waved a hand, and Fulai took a small scroll from his sleeve and handed it to Liu Zihe.

“This scroll contains fertilizer formulas and production methods,” Li Yuechen explained. “You must find a way to ensure widespread adoption. Most commoners are illiterate, so local government offices must cooperate actively.”

Liu Zihe accepted it respectfully. “Your Highness, rest assured, I understand.”

Li Yuechen nodded. “Also, arrange for another group to head south.”

“South?” Liu Zihe looked puzzled. “May I ask Your Highness’s intention?”

“To seek wild rice seeds, and to buy some from southern kingdoms for experimental use,” Li Yuechen explained. “Fertilizer alone is not enough. Grain yields might be further improved.”

This surprised Liu Zihe, who looked up with bright eyes. “It can be increased further?”

Li Yuechen nodded. “But that requires research. I don’t know how long it will take—we must proceed one step at a time.”

Liu Zihe stood and bowed. “Understood! I will immediately arrange personnel, though—”

“Don’t worry about funding. I will handle it.” Li Yuechen smiled.

With that settled, Liu Zihe had no further concerns and bowed again. “Right away!”

...

After resolving the Ministry of Revenue’s issues, Li Yuechen did not linger but left directly.

Seeing it was still early, she went to Renshou Hall.

Today was rare: Empress Wu Zetian had finished reviewing memorials early and was playing backgammon with Emperor Li Zhi.

Li Zhi looked quite pleased, his smile barely contained.

Seeing his daughter approach, he beckoned happily, “Chen’er, come quickly! I’ve won quite a bit today!”

Li Yuechen ran over and hugged him. “Father, you’re amazing!”

She then refilled their tea cups and went behind Wu Zetian to massage her shoulders.

Wu Zetian enjoyed her daughter’s massage, closing her eyes for a moment before asking, “How did things go at the Ministry of Revenue? Did anyone give you trouble?”

“Don’t worry, Mother. I am a Tang princess—they may be uncomfortable but will keep it to themselves,” Li Yuechen replied with a smile.

“Hmph. Whether they like you or not, you represent the royal family’s honor. You must never let anyone bully you!” Wu Zetian nodded firmly. “I trust you know how to handle it.”

Li Yuechen smiled confidently. “Of course! Have you forgotten whose daughter I am?”

She even kissed her mother’s cheek.

“Hmph...” Wu Zetian grinned and straightened up, waving a hand. “Enough play for now. We’ll continue later.”

Li Zhi picked up his health ball and started rolling it. “Is Mei Niang trying to cheat?”

“Fine, I concede,” Wu Zetian laughed, sipping tea.

Li Zhi relaxed in his rocking chair. “Chen’er, any troubles?”

“Not really,” Li Yuechen said, massaging Wu Zetian’s shoulders. “But I hope Father can approve a plot of land at the imperial farm outside the city for experimental use.”

“Isn’t the experiment already successful?” Li Zhi asked.

Li Yuechen patted Wu Zetian’s shoulder and came behind Li Zhi to massage his head. “Yes, but why not take it further? Our current yield is nearly three hundred jin per mu, but why not aim for four hundred, six hundred, or even a thousand?”

“Wow! Chen’er, you really dare to dream!” Li Zhi praised. Achieving four or five hundred jin per mu was beyond his wildest dreams.

“This research may take a long time, perhaps a lifetime, but I want to try,” Li Yuechen continued. “If Tang no longer lacks grain, half the problems will be solved.”

Li Zhi nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll grant you one hundred mu. Is that enough?”

“Enough, but I’ll need some staff. If the experiments fail, I must ensure they’re well fed,” Li Yuechen said, resting her chin on his shoulder and giving a cute smile.

Li Zhi was about to agree when Wu Zetian spoke up, “Handle this yourself. With your shop’s profits, can’t you support a few people?”

“Uh…” Li Yuechen smiled awkwardly. “I just want to save whatever I can…”

Seeing her caught in the act, Li Zhi chuckled. “It’s fine, Chen’er. Go ahead. I’ll provide additional funds.”

Li Yuechen was about to thank him but Wu Zetian interrupted, “No. We already need a lot for the Buddha statue project. We can’t spend more.”

“Buddha statue?” Li Yuechen blinked. “What do you mean?”

Li Zhi smiled. “Today, Mei Niang and I discussed carving a Buddha statue to honor the late emperor’s merits and pray for blessings…”

After hearing Li Zhi’s explanation, Li Yuechen felt a flicker of recognition.

After some thought, she concluded it must be the colossal Vairocana Buddha of the Longmen Grottoes. But wasn’t that built after her mother became emperor?

She had heard legends that the statue’s face was modeled after Wu Zetian’s, but she wasn’t emperor yet—only empress.

Besides, this was to honor the late emperor; how could it bear her likeness?

“By the way, Mei Niang even donated twenty thousand strings of cash for cosmetics,” Li Zhi laughed.

Li Yuechen looked up. “Since it’s to honor the late emperor, I’ll also contribute. My shop’s income is stable lately. May I donate ten thousand strings?”

“No need. Your filial heart is understood,” Li Zhi smiled, pinching her cheek. “But since this is to honor the late emperor, it’s better for Mei Niang and me to handle it. Keep your money for experiments.”

Wu Zetian nodded. “Speaking of which, how will the statue’s likeness be made?”

“What do you suggest, Mei Niang?”

“In my opinion, we should model it after both the late emperor and empress,” Wu Zetian said. “This way, their names will be remembered forever.”

Li Zhi nodded at his wife’s suggestion. “Reasonable. The statue honors the late emperor’s merits; including the empress is fair. May this statue be admired for a thousand years…”

It will, Li Yuechen thought, nodding silently. People a millennium from now will still see this statue.

She had never met Empress Zhangsun, but there were portraits of her in the palace.

However, Li Yuechen didn’t think those were accurate.

In this era, paintings were impressionistic rather than realistic, often beautified to match current aesthetics, differing greatly from reality.

For example, Li Zhi’s portrait looked very different from the real man—without prior knowledge, one wouldn’t guess it was him.

Li Yuechen supported the statue project, knowing it would become a precious cultural heritage.

...

Leaving Renshou Hall, Li Yuechen returned to Anfu Palace to contemplate her next plans.

The Ministry of Revenue work wasn’t difficult—mostly bookkeeping each month. Her main focus remained on increasing grain yield.

Other matters would naturally be handled by others.

On her way back, she met a young eunuch who bowed. “Your Highness, the Directorate of Artisans sent word that the telescope you requested is ready.”

“Good, understood,” Li Yuechen waved and headed toward the Directorate of Artisans.

Since she had already produced a prism, she had the carpenters there make a binocular telescope.

After giving them the design, she let them figure out the details, as she couldn’t recall everything herself.

Now that someone had come, it meant some progress had been made.

In high spirits, she thought that presenting the binoculars to Li Zhi would surely earn her more favor.

She bounced along to the Directorate, where the craftsmen eagerly presented a wooden binocular telescope.

“Your Highness, please inspect.”

She took it and found it had an unpainted natural wood exterior, but in appearance, it looked similar to future telescopes.

Turning outside, she looked around. The effect was indeed good.

Compared to the Paul-style telescope, this roof-prism type lacked color correction but offered more realistic visuals.

The military often used this style to see the truest battlefield conditions.

Moreover, a smooth transparent glass layer was added to prevent dust intrusion, making it quite refined.

Li Yuechen nodded. “Good work! This deserves great credit. I will report to the Sage and request rewards for you!”

The craftsmen beamed and bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Your Highness!”

“Take it for varnishing and maintenance first. I will return tomorrow,” Li Yuechen said, handing over the telescope for finishing touches.