Persuading Li Shimin to Develop Glass
After hearing Li Jing’s words, Hou Junji sneered, “Prime Minister Li, your view seems overly cautious. In my opinion, even on the battlefield, such attrition would be enough.”
Li Jing looked at Hou Junji and replied, “What Lord Hou says is true. In my Dragon Cavalry, the requirement is that the men train as close to actual combat as possible.”
Li Shimin couldn’t help but furrow his brow slightly at Li Jing’s words.
Hou Junji sneered again and said, “Prime Minister Li, have you lost your mind? If the soldiers injure each other like this during training, wouldn’t they all end up bearing grudges against one another?”
Li Zhi interjected, “Lord Hou, you are a renowned general as well. Surely you know that only by sharing life and death can deep bonds of friendship be forged?”
Hou Junji’s original intent was to target Li Zhi, and seeing him speak now, he naturally seized the opportunity. He addressed Li Zhi, “Your Highness is young and inexperienced in military affairs. The army is a mix of all sorts, soldiers from different regions form their own factions—how could they easily form deep friendships with outsiders?”
Li Zhi replied, “With all due respect, Lord Hou, I must disagree. Regional divides can be smoothed away if the right approach is taken; it is not a difficult task.”
Hou Junji retorted, “Your Highness, that sounds rather idealistic. Even if there are grudges, soldiers would never show them openly before their superiors. I fear you’ve been deceived by them.”
Li Zhi replied, “You jest, Lord Hou. The army has instructors who keep a close watch—how could anything escape their discerning eyes?”
When Hou Junji saw Li Zhi invoke Li Jing, he immediately fell silent. He knew full well his own ability to lead troops was inferior to Li Jing’s; to continue quibbling over this topic would only put him at a disadvantage.
He changed the subject and turned to Li Zhi, “Even if Your Highness has a good strategy for resolving disputes within the ranks, must the soldiers suffer so many injuries?”
Li Zhi replied, “I believe that being wounded in training is far preferable to dying on the battlefield.”
Hou Junji said, “The situation on the battlefield shifts in an instant. No matter how tough the training, casualties are inevitable. I believe moderation is best.”
Li Zhi responded, “What Lord Hou says is certainly reasonable, but the combat objectives of the Dragon Cavalry are precisely thus—otherwise, why expend so much money and resources?”
Realizing he could not best Li Zhi in argument, Hou Junji turned to Li Shimin and said, “Your Majesty, I believe Prince Jin’s requirements for the Dragon Cavalry are unreasonable. I ask for your wise judgment.”
He decisively shifted responsibility to Li Shimin—it was clear he thought this method of training was inappropriate, but the final say was the emperor’s.
To tell the truth, Li Shimin himself was unsure. Though undefeated on the battlefield, he had never been so ruthless in training his troops. Now, hearing Li Zhi’s intent to make the Dragon Cavalry experience the true brutality of war even during training, he found it difficult to imagine. Yet, seeing the confidence of both Li Jing and Li Zhi, he could not help but grow curious.
He wondered to himself: Could it be that they have discovered some unique method?
Clearing his throat, he said, “Since Yaoshi and Zhinu are so confident, let them proceed.”
Then he looked to Hou Junji and added, “There’s no need to be too hasty, Lord Hou. We can wait a year and see the results.”
Hearing this, Hou Junji could only nod in resignation.
Li Zhi and Li Jing did not alter their approach because of this dispute.
As winter approached, the boiler was finally completed and installed. Li Zhi repeatedly urged Empress Zhangsun to bring Li Lizhi and Princess Chengyang to the swimming hall regularly for exercise. He never forgot about Empress Zhangsun’s health, which was the main reason he advocated so strongly for establishing a medical college.
Besides the installation of the boiler, Li Zhi also provided the Dragon Cavalry with superior personal equipment: a set of down winter clothing, a pair of leather boots, and a cotton quilt. In addition, there were climbing claws, daggers, and a backpack. All the cotton grown on the experimental farm was made into military uniforms, making the soldiers’ clothing much more durable.
Li Zhi and Li Jing had a clear division of responsibilities: Li Zhi came up with ideas and developed equipment, while Li Jing trained the soldiers and taught tactics.
To improve the soldiers’ reconnaissance abilities, Li Zhi began experimenting with glassmaking, intending to craft telescopes. By now, Liu An was quite accustomed to Li Zhi’s frequent smelting projects. In fact, he sometimes melted down ores himself for research. Li Zhi never stopped him—sometimes he even offered guidance.
He compiled the simple physics and chemistry knowledge he knew into two books and gave them to Liu An as introductory texts. Minerals like quartz and fluorite were always in stock, as Li Zhi routinely had Liu An collect them under the pretext of research.
Their crucibles had already been upgraded several times and came in various materials. At this time, they were using ceramic crucibles, melting quartz, fluorite, quicklime, and white feldspar, with some ash solution mixed in as a substitute for alkali.
Before long, a batch of molten solution was ready. Li Zhi promptly poured it into specially made molds—mainly flat, round, and various vessel shapes. The purpose was to let the experimental solutions solidify for easier analysis and research.
Once the liquids in the molds cooled, Li Zhi carefully opened each one, revealing a series of exquisite glass items. He picked up a glass bowl and examined it closely. The bowl was not as crystal clear as pure water; it had a faint bluish tint. Nevertheless, Li Zhi found this perfectly acceptable, considering glass had never appeared on the market before.
Liu An stood nearby, admiring a glass cup. As he gazed at it, he marveled, “Your Highness, this object is so lustrous and translucent. If we sold it, it would surely fetch a handsome price.”
Li Zhi laughed and replied, “It seems you’ve learned much about business from Shopkeeper Pei!”
Liu An scratched his head sheepishly and said, “I’ve only picked up the basics—compared to Your Highness and Shopkeeper Pei, I’m still far behind.”
Li Zhi said, “In that case, keep practicing. I’ve decided to call this material ‘liuli,’ and you can develop some novel products with it for Shopkeeper Pei to sell.”
Overjoyed, Liu An replied, “Thank you, Your Highness, for your favor.”
Li Zhi smiled without saying more.
Although glass had now been made, it was still not the ideal material for telescopes. Li Zhi needed to add other oxides and switch to a platinum crucible for the process. He had most of these materials, but they were byproducts from other experiments and required purification.
Over the next few days, Li Zhi and Liu An each became busy with their tasks. Li Zhi focused on refining raw materials, while Liu An designed molds and sent glassware to Pei Mingli for sale.