Li Tai’s Strategies and the Transformation of Chang’an

After the promulgation of the Tang commercial law, a strange scene unfolded throughout the entire city of Chang’an. For two whole days, apart from Pei Mingli, not a single carpenter’s workshop dared to sell furniture. Only then did people finally realize which furniture truly deserved the “Linde” brand. The renown of this brand soared once more. Those who had previously purchased genuine pieces were now overjoyed, for it meant that only they possessed the finest furniture in all of Chang’an. All the workshops that had been imitating this furniture flocked to Pei Mingli, each willing to pay high prices for authorization to produce those designs. They had no other choice; their warehouses were already filled with finished furniture, and if these could not be sold, it would bring them tremendous losses—perhaps even wipe out their previous profits entirely.

Pei Mingli, however, was gracious and did not set an exorbitant price, charging less than one-twentieth of the retail price as a royalty for each piece. Not only that, he encouraged these workshops to register their own trademarks and reminded them that the common people of Tang also had a considerable demand for new-style furniture. They could, he suggested, develop designs tailored to these needs.

No sooner had the new law been enacted than Li Tai received a copy. After reading through it from beginning to end, his expression grew dark. With a cold snort, he said to Dou Xin, who stood by his side, “Zhinu truly is cunning, to have devised such an ingenious law.”

Dou Xin replied, “Your Highness, I hear Prince Jin has already registered patents for all those furniture designs at the first opportunity. What do you wish to do about the furniture in our workshops?”

Li Tai thought for a moment and asked, “How can one distinguish the furniture produced by Zhinu’s workshop?”

Dou Xin was caught off guard by the question and hesitated before answering, “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I have not noticed anything special about their furniture.”

Li Tai frowned once more upon hearing this. In his mind, Li Zhi surely had another trick up his sleeve; otherwise, he would not have gone to such lengths. By now, Li Tai no longer dared to underestimate his younger brother, for he had suffered at Li Zhi’s hands too many times already.

After a brief pause, he said, “Go and purchase a set of his furniture. I wish to see with my own eyes if any secrets are hidden within.”

Dou Xin accepted the order and turned to leave.

Just then, Li Tai suddenly called him back and instructed, “Don’t buy directly from his workshop; find some trusted contacts to quietly make the purchase.”

Awakening at these words, Dou Xin looked at Li Tai with admiration. “Your Highness is truly thoughtful. I will see to it at once.”

Dou Xin was nothing if not efficient. He soon returned, having paid a high price to acquire a set of the furniture. Li Tai examined each piece minutely, not missing a single detail. Heaven rewards the diligent: before long, he discovered distinctive marks beneath the surfaces of the tables and chairs, and in a corner of the wardrobe’s interior. These marks were clearly crafted with care—a kirin-shaped seal and the words “Linde” carved beside it.

Li Tai studied the marks for a long moment, then a faint smile curled at his lips. He pointed them out to Dou Xin and, after he had seen, asked meaningfully, “Now do you know what to do next?”

Upon seeing the marks, Dou Xin immediately had an idea. Hearing Li Tai’s question, he smiled confidently. “Rest assured, Your Highness, I will see this matter through.”

Li Tai was very satisfied with this answer. He instructed, “You should also register a trademark—choose any name you like—but continue selling the furniture under the Linde brand. I have no desire to trouble myself managing a new brand, and I certainly do not wish to pay for Li Zhi’s patent. Since we’ve discovered the secret, we can copy it perfectly. As long as our furniture matches his, who could tell them apart?”

With the promulgation of the commercial law, a new department was established to oversee it. Immediately, at both the eastern and western markets of Chang’an, a new office was set up bearing the sign “Tang Commerce Bureau.” This bureau was placed under the Ministry of Revenue and was temporarily overseen by Minister Dai Zhou himself. Its main duties were registering trademarks and patents for merchants.

Thanks to vigorous promotion by dedicated officials, more and more merchants came to recognize the benefits of registering trademarks and patents. Within just two days, the Tang Commerce Bureau was already packed to overflowing. Watching the lively scene, Dai Zhou could not help but feel a surge of emotion.

He could hardly imagine how a mere child could conceive such a novel idea. By using exclusive nameplates to sell their goods, merchants could rapidly spread their reputation and make it easier for customers to compare similar products. Over time, customers would naturally distinguish brands by word of mouth, discerning which offered higher quality and fairer prices. This, in turn, encouraged competition among merchants and allowed the people to enjoy better goods.

Moreover, with the introduction of patent law, workshops could no longer freely copy others’ innovations. They were compelled to develop their own ideas and creations. In time, the market of Tang would surely see a flourishing variety of goods within each category, each with its own unique style—offering customers a wealth of choice.

As Minister of Revenue, Dai Zhou was especially pleased that trademark and patent registrations generated fees. Each fee was small, but together they formed a considerable sum. As more people registered trademarks, a new occupation began to emerge in Chang’an: naming shops and workshops. This profession should not be underestimated—coming up with names required literacy and at least some measure of learning. In this era, there were few who could read, and most commoners knew only a handful of characters. Thus, ever since the commercial law was enacted, some impoverished scholars in Chang’an found a new livelihood, offering their services to devise shop names. Where once taverns and inns would simply hang banners marked “wine” or “food” to attract customers, now they bore elegant names such as “Auspicious Residence” or “Hall of Good Fortune.” Colorful flags fluttered before all manner of stores. Even the state-run brothel, “Pingkang Lane,” had registered its location as an exclusive name.