Chapter 19: Changsun's Critical Illness

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When Fang Xuanling saw Wei Zheng struggling, he quickly smoothed things over, saying, “Your Majesty is right. The modest Directorate of Ceremonies hardly spends much in a year. Let’s just consider it Prince Shen’s indulgence. It’s no great matter.”

“Prince Shen is truly talented,” Tang Jian suddenly remarked. Everyone turned to look at him. Tang Jian, however, remained calm and said, “Gentlemen may not be aware that although our national treasury has increased year after year, expenditures are vast. Aside from the salaries of officials nationwide, we must annually dredge rivers and repair roads. Though these past few years have enjoyed favorable weather, some regions have still suffered disasters, necessitating the court to allocate grain for relief. The yearly surplus is now quite small. As pillars of the nation, you all understand the importance of funds. I, as Minister of Revenue, deeply comprehend this. It matters little whether one is a scholar or a merchant; anyone who can bring benefit to the treasury is a good citizen of the Great Tang.”

These words left Wei Zheng speechless. The social hierarchy long held scholars in the highest regard, looking down on merchants. Yet they all knew that for the state to grow and prosper, funds and provisions were essential.

“Enough. We speak now of Prince Shen. You saw earlier how he haggled with me; his pained expression shows he loves money dearly. I had intended to assign him a post this year, but now it seems Prince Shen is somewhat insightful and only needs guidance,” Li Shimin shifted the topic.

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Since losing half of his shares, Li Shen had been despondent for several days, then resolved to learn from his pain and expand his business. After all, Li Shimin was aware and had taken half the shares. His first priority was the princes and high officials. Within a month, he secured orders from all the nobles, raising prices by twenty percent. Not only did he have what others lacked, but in official circles, losing face was fatal. This is why everything went smoothly. Zhang Wang and his team at the Directorate of Ceremonies were busier than ever, yet everyone smiled; the more work done, the more money earned.

By May, Li Shen finally received good news: the Ministry of Works’ craftsmen had produced the needles he requested. Eagerly, he hurried to the ministry.

Upon seeing the needles, Li Shen felt a twinge of disappointment. While the length matched his specifications, the needle tips were two times thicker than requested—reminiscent of the coarse needles used in his previous life’s hometown for injecting cattle. Such needles would surely be agonizing if used on people.

Still, something was better than nothing. He had heard the craftsmen spent over a month honing these needles by hand. Li Shen encouraged the craftsman to make two more and rewarded him fifty strings of cash. He also promised all craftsmen that anyone who could produce needles two times finer would receive an additional fifty strings.

Returning, Li Shen fashioned a needle casing from a fine bamboo tube, which was simpler. Fitting the needle, he tested it and found it quite satisfactory. For several days, he experimented by injecting mice to determine whether the injection would be fatal. After tests, none died. He then increased the dosage.

While Li Shen busied himself with experiments, a grave matter arose in the imperial harem: Empress Zhangsun fell seriously ill. She had caught a cold the previous month, with fever and frequent coughing. Though the imperial doctors had prescribed treatments that initially improved her condition, after a month, her illness relapsed with persistent coughing and occasional fever.

At the Lijing Hall, Li Shimin anxiously inquired of the imperial physicians.

“How is her condition?” Li Shimin asked with urgency.

Present were over ten senior imperial doctors, all elderly women, who had just attended the Empress.

“Your Majesty, Her Majesty suffers from a respiratory ailment, likely typhoid-related,” one cautious physician replied.

“How can she be cured?” Li Shimin pressed.

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The physicians hesitated, unwilling to speak first for fear of incurring the emperor’s wrath. Seeing their reluctance, Li Shimin said, “Speak freely; I shall not blame you.”

Finally, the chief physician, Li Xiuwei, stepped forward. “Your Majesty, we are powerless. The Empress’s illness has reached her heart and lungs. Given her frail constitution, I fear that…” His words faltered.

“Fear what?” Li Shimin demanded sternly.

“I fear her time is short,” the physician confessed with difficulty.

“Is there truly no cure?” Li Shimin asked anxiously.

“Your Majesty, we dare not delay Her Majesty’s treatment. Truly, there is nothing more we can do; she is beyond medical aid,” the physician said, terrified of incurring the emperor’s anger.

“How much time does the Empress have?” Li Shimin asked sorrowfully, eyes closed.

“Your Majesty, we estimate no more than three months. You must prepare accordingly,” the physician replied.

Li Shimin waved them away and returned alone to the Ganlu Palace, eyes brimming with tears and heart heavy. Recently, he had been restoring three hundred and ninety-two renowned temples and scenic sites across the realm to pray for the Empress’s recovery, yet to no avail.

Each time he heard her incessant cough or saw her sleepless nights, his heart shattered, wishing he could take her place.

“Wang De, issue an imperial edict throughout the empire to seek renowned doctors. Whoever cures the Empress shall be ennobled, granted five thousand acres of fertile land, five thousand strings of cash, and a position within the Imperial Medical Bureau,” Li Shimin proclaimed, unwilling to give up, determined to gather the nation’s finest healers.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Wang De responded, proceeding to the Three Departments; the edict required their approval.

Li Shen had also heard of this and accompanied Consort Wei to visit the Empress once. Empress Zhangsun’s relentless coughing frightened them, and she occasionally ran fever. Her condition worsened day by day.

Li Shen hesitated. First, he had tested penicillin on mice wounds and it showed effectiveness against infection, but its efficacy in humans was uncertain. He had calculated the human dosage, which was high due to low purity, and its safety was unproven.

Second, if the Empress died, his mother, Consort Wei, would become the supreme lady of the harem, gaining power and greater shares of wealth—beneficial to him. However, he could not be sure if the medicine worked. If something went wrong, he would be the one to suffer.

In the front hall of the Daji Palace, Li Shen chatted with Consort Wei, who noticed that her son had changed in recent months—no longer distant but occasionally engaging in conversation.

“Mother, I want to ask you honestly: if there were a way to save Empress Zhangsun, would you want to save her or not?” Li Shen asked directly, no pretense since she was his mother.

Consort Wei was taken aback by the question, then said, “Shen’er, didn’t the imperial doctors say that medicine is powerless?”

“Mother, I’m talking about a hypothetical medicine with a good chance of curing her. Would you want to try it?” Li Shen repeated.

“If it were true, I would want to save the Empress. But alas…” Consort Wei sighed deeply.

“Mother, I have it,” Li Shen said solemnly.

“You have it? Shen’er, don’t speak recklessly. The imperial doctors cannot cure her. How can you, a mere child, possess such a miraculous remedy?” Consort Wei doubted him.

“Mother, you know I’ve been experimenting in the palace these months. It’s a medicine. Whether it will succeed is not certain, but the hope is great. I just want to know if, assuming it could save the Empress, would you be willing? If the Empress passes, you become the head of the harem. Father will naturally visit Daji Palace more often.” The others had long been sent away; guards stood watch at the door, no fear of eavesdropping.

Consort Wei fell into thought. Li Shen was right: if the Empress died, she would become the harem’s leader and gain the emperor’s trust. Her heart was torn.

On one hand, the Empress was kind and had taken care of her, or she, a woman of a second marriage, would have no standing—let alone be second in command. On the other, she longed for the position of head of the harem and for the emperor to frequent Daji Palace. At thirty-seven, Consort Wei was still youthful and radiant by later standards.

After a quarter hour, she looked up at Li Shen and said, “Shen’er, if you can save her, I hope you will heal the Empress. She has treated us well. Even if she were gone, I might not become head of the harem, for only the Empress holds Your Majesty’s love. But do you have confidence? You must not fail and risk your own life.”

“Mother, rest assured. The chance is high. I only asked your opinion today. If you agree, I will begin human trials tomorrow. If not, I will delay for months, lest Father learn we have a cure and refuse to use it,” Li Shen said.

“Mm, Shen’er, do your experiments. Saving a life is worth more than building seven great pagodas. If you succeed, it will benefit your future. At the very least, you may be granted a wealthy fief. No matter what mistakes you make, the Empress will protect your life,” Consort Wei advised.