Tang Dynasty: Feeding Chang Le, Emperor Li Er exclaimed that she was a true immortal!

Ganlu Temple.

Late at night.

Li Shimin had not slept well for two nights.

The issue of salt prices is like a dull knife, slowly cutting at his nerves.

Dai Zhou came again today, but he brought no good news.

Grain prices in Chang'an City have also started to rise.

Because people panicked and began hoarding goods, other supplies were also affected.

Meanwhile, Changsun Wuji acted as if nothing had happened.

He went to court as usual every day, performed the rites as usual, and said "Your subject seconds the motion" as usual.

It seems that the soaring price of salt has nothing to do with him.

Li Shimin was so angry he wanted to grind his teeth.

But he really had no way to break the deadlock.

Just as he sat listlessly in the imperial study, about to smash the paperweight on the table for the fourth time—

Hurried footsteps could be heard outside the palace gate.

"Your Majesty! Princess Chang Le requests an audience! She says she has a matter of utmost urgency!"

Li Shimin frowned.

Is it this time?

"Let her in."

The palace doors opened, and Chang Le strode in.

Her face was flushed, not from illness, but from excitement.

He was holding something wrapped in silk and two pieces of paper that were ridiculously white.

"Father!"

Chang Le stood before the imperial desk, her breathing slightly rapid.

"The immortals have bestowed upon us another treasure!"

Li Shimin leaned forward slightly.

Every time he hears the word "immortal," his suspicion clashes with his greed.

But so far, greed has triumphed.

Because everything bestowed by the immortals is truly a good thing.

"What treasure?"

Chang Le placed the silk package on the imperial desk and opened it.

Dozens of bags of refined salt in white plastic packaging were neatly stacked inside.

Li Shimin saw the plastic bags, and his pupils contracted slightly.

It's that kind of transparent material that the Tang Dynasty couldn't produce.

He had seen it once before—the aluminum-plastic packaging for ibuprofen.

But this time the number is much larger.

"This is……"

"Salt."

Chang Le opened a bag and poured the fine salt onto the imperial desk.

White salt grains shimmered faintly in the candlelight, forming a small snow mound.

Li Shimin stared at the pile of salt for three seconds.

Then he extended his index finger, dipped it in, and put it in his mouth.

The moment the tip of the tongue touches a grain of salt—

His eyes narrowed.

salty.

Clean and crisp saltiness.

There wasn't a trace of off-flavor.

The best salt Li Shimin ever ate was top-grade well salt from Sichuan, which was presented as tribute.

But compared to this salt in my mouth, those well salts are like the difference between street vendor goods and imperial tribute.

No, it's even bigger than that.

He dipped a finger in the sauce and tasted it carefully.

Then he raised his head and stared intently at Chang Le.

"Is this fairy salt?"

"Yes. This kind of salt is everywhere in the immortals' land, and everyone can afford it."

Li Shimin was struck by the words "everyone can afford it".

He was the emperor.

He knew better than anyone what salt meant to a country.

Ordinary people can live without silk, without porcelain, and even eat less meat.

But you can't live without salt.

Whoever controls salt controls the foundation of the world.

And now, Changsun Wuji and the Five Clans and Seven Noble Families are using this foundation to strangle him.

"But this salt isn't the most important thing," Chang Le lowered her voice. "The most important thing is—this."

She unfolded the two A4 sheets of paper and laid them on the imperial desk.

Li Shimin looked down.

flow chart.

It was drawn very clearly above. Five steps, accompanied by annotations in traditional Chinese characters that he could understand.

He read it word by word.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then he looked up, his expression extremely strange.

"You mean... using this method, you can create this kind of celestial salt by simply finding some poisonous ores?"

"That's what the immortals said."

Li Shimin stared at the blueprints, his lips moving slightly.

He didn't believe it.

He wanted to believe so much that he dared not believe.

Because if this were true—

The salt mines in the hands of the Changsun family were no different from wasteland.

"Someone come here!"

Li Shimin suddenly roared.

Zhao Dequan, who was outside the hall, was so frightened that his heart almost stopped, and he scrambled in.

"Your Majesty - Your Majesty?"

"Go to the imperial kitchen and fetch an iron pot, a stack of fine linen, and a bucket of clean water for me. Also, have someone bring over a basket of those unwanted, poisonous mineral salt blocks."

Zhao Dequan's eyes widened.

Iron pot? Linen? Toxic mineral salt?

What is Your Majesty trying to do?

"What are you standing there for? Go now!"

Zhao Dequan turned and ran.

Fifteen minutes later, everything was ready.

In the Imperial Study, there was a black iron pot, a bucket of water, a stack of linen, and a basket of grayish-yellow mineral salt stones on the floor.

The surface of those salt rocks was rough, and they had a pungent, bitter smell.

In the Tang Dynasty, this kind of toxic mineral salt was everywhere.

They can be found everywhere, in fields, at the foot of mountains, and on riverbanks.

But no one dared to eat it.

Because eating it can cause vomiting and diarrhea, and in severe cases, it can even be fatal.

Therefore, people would rather spend a lot of money to buy refined salt purified by established families than touch these other things.

Li Shimin followed the steps on the blueprints and personally carried them out.

He smashed the salt rocks, poured them into a bucket of water, and stirred them to dissolve.

The murky salt water emitted a pungent smell.

Then he laid out three layers of burlap and slowly poured in the salt water.

The turbid salt water passed through the linen, filtering out sand, stones, and large particles of impurities.

The liquid that flowed out became much clearer, but it was still yellowish.

Following the instructions in the blueprint, Li Shimin replaced the cloth with a new stack of linen and filtered it twice more.

After the third rinse, the salt water had become almost transparent.

Chang Le helped set up the pot and start the fire.

There was a charcoal brazier in the imperial study, so the iron pot was placed directly on the charcoal brazier.

Pour the salt water into the pot and start heating.

The water temperature rises, and steam fills the air.

Li Shimin squatted beside the pot, staring intently at the bottom of it.

His expression was extremely focused.

At this moment, he didn't look like an emperor, but more like an old farmer squatting in front of the stove waiting for the rice to cook.

Time passed by, second by second.

The moisture evaporates slowly.

The liquid level in the pot is getting lower and lower.

finally--

A layer of white crystals appeared at the bottom of the pot.

The stars twinkled and shimmered in the glow of the charcoal fire.

As the moisture evaporates further, more and more white crystals form, becoming increasingly dense.

Finally, it covered the entire bottom of the pot.

Li Shimin's breathing stopped completely.

He stretched out his finger and scraped off a small pinch of white crystals from the bottom of the pot.

He twisted it.

exquisite.

Uniform.

It was so white it practically glowed.

Although it cannot compare to the refined industrial salt that Lu Ming sent, it is far superior to the best well salt from Sichuan available in the Tang Dynasty market.

The raw material was just some toxic ore that nobody wanted by the roadside.

Li Shimin put the pinch of salt into his mouth.

A clean and crisp salty taste reached the tip of my tongue.

There is no bitterness.

There was no earthy smell.

There was no off-flavor.

Li Shimin closed his eyes.

His body was trembling.

It's not because I'm afraid.

It wasn't because I was excited.

It's because of anger.

An anger that had been suppressed for too long and finally found an outlet.

How do powerful families monopolize refined salt?

It relies on a secret recipe and process.

Several prominent families spent over a hundred years developing an extremely complex salt-making process, which they passed down through generations, keeping it a closely guarded secret.

Using this process, they turned coarse salt into refined salt, and then sold the refined salt at exorbitant prices.

All the people in the world have to buy salt from them.

All the emperors in the world had to be mindful of their moods to get by.

And now-

The two pieces of paper in front of him now tell him that it was all a joke.

Five steps.

Crush, dissolve, filter, boil, crystallize.

Five steps are enough.

Raw materials are everywhere, right under your feet.

Tools: an iron pot and a stack of burlap.

Any old farmer who can read and understand this picture can make salt that is better than that of the powerful families.

Li Shimin opened his eyes.

His eyes were bloodshot, and a light surging deep within his pupils made Chang Le involuntarily take a half step back.

That was the emperor's murderous intent.

"Someone come here!"

His voice wasn't loud, but Zhao Dequan felt as if someone had a knife pressed against the back of his neck, and the hairs on his body stood on end.

"Summon Li Junxian, Commander of the Thousand Bull Guards, to the palace immediately!"

"Yes, yes!" Zhao Dequan scrambled out of the palace gate.

Li Shimin stood up.

He glanced down at the layer of white salt at the bottom of the pot, then reached out and grabbed a handful, clutching it in his palm.

Salt grains slipped through her fingers.

"Issue my decree—"

His voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, each word carrying a trembling killing intent.

"Salt production begins overnight! Three hundred artisans from the Ministry of Works are conscripted, and the Imperial Guards will oversee the entire process. The salt-making method is a top royal secret! Anyone who dares to divulge a single word will be—"

He turned his head and looked at Zhao Dequan, who was kneeling in the corner.

"—The entire family was executed."

Zhao Dequan kowtowed repeatedly.

Li Shimin walked back to the imperial desk, picked up the two A4 sheets of paper, looked at them one last time, and then threw them into the charcoal brazier.

The paper curled up, burned, and turned to ashes.

The process was already etched into his mind.

No more paper is needed.

He turned around and looked at the dark night sky outside the hall.

The city of Chang'an was sparsely lit, and the people were worried about even a handful of salt.

And in his hands, he already held the nuclear weapon to crush the powerful clans.

"Changsun Wuji—"

Li Shimin grabbed the handful of refined salt and shoved it into his mouth.

The salty taste exploded in my mouth.

He gritted his teeth, a chilling smile curving his lips.

"You're finished."