Construction began at multiple sites.

Before issuing his decree, Li Shimin had conducted a thorough investigation.

After these people became monks, they relied on their landholdings, which were exempt from taxes, and leased all of it to tenant farmers. They collected over forty percent of the harvest as rent, thus securing ample grain without having to till the land themselves. Moreover, these monasteries often opened shops or established pawnshops within the city, earning them considerable wealth through these enterprises.

Now, when Li Shimin uttered those words, it was a clear warning to the monastics: “I know everything you’re up to. If you dare to make a fuss again, I’ll send people to thoroughly investigate your temples and see what you do day and night.” For the sake of preserving their comfortable lives, the monks naturally dared not voice further objections.

Yet, though the matter on the surface seemed to be easily quelled, beneath it ran turbulent currents.

The proliferation of monks during the Tang dynasty had two main causes. The first was that some commoners, having suffered immense losses of land due to war and natural disaster, were left with no means to live and were forced to take religious vows in order to survive. Their original intention was simply to stay alive. The second cause was that scions of powerful and wealthy families would deliberately become monks to evade corvée labor. These families were intricately connected with the monasteries and often derived significant benefits from such ties.

Now, with their interests harmed, these people would naturally devise ways to undermine the court’s policies. Thus, they began quietly mobilizing their connections, seeking opportunities to stir up new public opinion.

With the arrival of spring, Li Zhi’s previous construction plans finally began to take shape. The inn in Chang’an was entrusted to Pei Mingli, who was asked to oversee its affairs and help hire a competent manager. As for the swimming pool in the palace, the Office of Works was, of course, responsible.

Both construction sites required vast quantities of bricks, tiles, and cement, and this novel building material attracted the attention of many.

The inn in Chang’an, in particular, stood out from the very start, even from the foundation work. While others filled their foundations with rubble and earth, Li Zhi used concrete. Others tamped their foundations layer by layer, yet here, after compacting only the lowest layer, the rest was simply leveled. This strange phenomenon quickly drew curiosity, and people came daily to observe the changes.

For over ten days, nothing seemed to change atop the finished foundation—except for occasional dousing with clean water. Just as people began to wonder, activity finally resumed. Workers swiftly built walls with blue bricks and cement, using blue bricks both inside and out. This immediately sparked discussion; everyone wondered which family could afford such extravagance.

In this era, blue bricks were an expensive building material, far beyond what ordinary families could afford—most relied on mud bricks and wood. As construction of the inn continued, people’s amazement only grew, to the point that they could no longer comprehend what they were seeing. The inn was soon to have a second floor, yet not a single piece of timber had been used so far.

This was precisely the effect Li Zhi desired. He wanted to introduce this construction method to the public. The main structure of the inn was to be built entirely with blue bricks and cement. Even the floors were made by casting cement reinforced with steel bars specially ordered from the ironworks. Such methods baffled not only the curious onlookers but even the workers involved in the construction.

At the ironworks in Da’an Ward, tremendous changes were also underway. The foundation was dug even deeper, and more steel was used. People were astonished that an ironworks was purchasing steel from elsewhere for its renovation.

Li Shimin’s greatest concern at this time was precisely this site. Now, accompanied by Fang Xuanling and others, he came to inspect it personally. Seeing ingots of iron being reforged into giant steel beams, his heart bled at the wastage.

Once again, he asked Li Zhi with apprehension, “Zhinü, tell your father the truth—are you sure this renovation won’t fail?”

Li Zhi replied, “Please rest assured, Father. I guarantee that once the renovation is complete, the output of each furnace will increase at least tenfold.”

Li Shimin, hearing this promise, could only respond with a dull “Oh, oh,” his expression numb. He then frowned deeply as he looked out over the construction site.

It was, after all, on the strength of the promises from Li Zhi and Pei Feishu that he had approved the project in the first place. In pursuit of a tenfold increase in iron production, he had even overlooked the enormous renovation costs they had submitted—agreeing without hesitation.

Only now, as the project was underway, did he come to see it for himself. To his dismay, all he saw was an appalling waste of resources.

Fang Xuanling and the others felt deeply unsettled as well. Such extravagance—if the project failed, would it not be a colossal loss for the court?

Seeing their expressions, Li Zhi offered reassurance: “Gentlemen, you need not worry. I have already discussed and verified every detail of this renovation with Lord Pei and the Ironmaster Baken. Failure is not an option.”

Wang Gui pursed his lips at this and could not help but ask, “Your Highness, is there truly no other way to improve the process? This approach is exceedingly wasteful.” Fearing his words might be misunderstood, he quickly added, “I only worry that the ministers might raise objections.”

Li Zhi understood his meaning. In essence, they were concerned about the squandering of resources, fearing that if the project failed, they would be blamed for not stopping it.

With this in mind, Li Zhi did not argue. He turned to Li Shimin and said directly, “Father, please be at ease. If this project fails, I am willing to resign all my offices and forfeit my fiefs and stipends.”

Li Shimin was startled by this pledge and hastened to reply, “My son, you must not do so! Since I have already given my approval, the responsibility rests with me.”

Fang Xuanling was equally alarmed. This Prince Jin was truly willing to stake everything, even his lands. Did he really have such confidence in this renovation?

Reflecting on this, Fang Xuanling spoke up, “We only wish to confirm the likelihood of success; there’s no need for such guarantees, Your Highness.” Wang Gui and Li Jing nodded awkwardly as well, unprepared for Li Zhi’s shrewdness at such a young age. Their casual words had been instantly understood for what they were.

The three exchanged discreet glances, each seeing resignation in the others’ eyes. The emperor and his son were truly a pair of cunning foxes, staging this father-son act before them—clearly intending to share the burden of responsibility.