Zhang Anan’s Astonishment

Although Li Shimin spoke in a calm and unassuming manner, to Li Tai, his words were no less shocking than a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Only now did he finally realize why his imperial father had placed such importance on his request for the Ministry of Works to craft new furniture. It turned out, quite by accident, he had delayed the delivery of a gift Li Zhi intended for their father.

In this moment, Li Tai had no time to dwell on anything else; he hurriedly rose to his knees and pleaded, “Father, forgive me. Your son truly did not know that I had delayed your necessities. No one ever mentioned this matter to me before.”

Li Shimin looked at Li Tai and replied, “This was not much of a matter in itself. If what you needed was truly urgent, your father could have waited a while longer, it would have been of no consequence.”

But then, Li Shimin suddenly raised his voice, his expression shifting instantly to one of anger. He continued, “But for a mere steward in your residence to dare, under your name, to boss around a high official of the third rank—such insolence deserves death!”

Li Tai broke out in a cold sweat at his father’s words. While the emperor’s pronouncement had already sealed the steward’s fate, it was also, unmistakably, a warning to himself. At last, he understood why his father had summoned him to dine together: it was because someone under his command had stirred up trouble outside.

Li Tai knew that, today, he could not speak a word in defense of the steward, or he would risk losing his father’s favor at once.

With that thought, he promptly feigned righteous indignation and said, “Rest assured, Father. When I return, I shall have that wretch, who abused power in my name, beaten to death, lest he sully my reputation any further.”

Li Shimin gave him a long, searching look before waving his hand and saying, “I will not concern myself with other matters, but I do hope you can keep your household in order and not allow your servants to become spoiled and arrogant.”

Li Tai kowtowed repeatedly in response.

Impatience crept into Li Shimin’s voice as he said, “Enough, let this matter end here. Get up and eat.”

That meal was one Li Tai truly could not stomach. Throughout, Li Shimin gave him subtle hints, reminding him not to act in too ostentatious a manner. Li Tai pretended to take these admonitions to heart, all the while pondering what gift Li Zhi intended to present to their father.

At this moment, Li Tai had come to regard Li Zhi as a grave threat, and so he spent the entire banquet furtively watching Li Zhi’s every move. Yet to his disappointment, Li Zhi simply ate quietly throughout, barely uttering a word until the meal was over.

The first thing Li Tai did upon returning to his own residence was to make a public spectacle of punishing the steward. To him, disposing of a mere steward was trivial, but since the matter involved his father, he had to make his position clear.

Meanwhile, at the Ministry of Works, Pei Feishu, who had been fretting over the delay in completing the furniture for the Prince of Yue’s residence, was dumbfounded when he received a message relayed by Zhang Anan.

Pei’s political acumen far surpassed that of the adolescent Li Tai, and it took him only a moment to guess that Li Zhi must be involved in all of this. He discreetly pulled Zhang Anan aside, slipped him a string of copper coins, and whispered nervously, “Did the Prince of Jin offend the Prince of Yue over this affair?”

Zhang Anan first pushed away the offered coins, then patted Pei’s hand and said, “Don’t worry, His Majesty never mentioned how he found out.”

Pei Feishu’s expression relaxed a little upon hearing this, yet he did not withdraw his hand. Instead, he insistently pressed the coins into Zhang’s palm and sighed, “That’s good, then. As the saying goes, it’s easier to face the King of Hell than his underlings—this steward at the Prince of Yue’s residence has caused no end of trouble for His Highness!”

Zhang Anan tucked the coins into his sleeve and sneered, “That troublesome underling you speak of has likely gone off to meet the King of Hell for real by now!”

Pei Feishu gasped, “What could have angered His Majesty so greatly in this matter?”

Zhang Anan replied, “Because that wretched steward delayed the gift the Prince of Jin was preparing for His Majesty, causing the prince to be unhappy for days. When His Majesty asked about it yesterday, the prince was so distraught he wept bitterly—it pained even me to see it.”

Pei Feishu nodded and said, “Indeed, the Prince of Jin has put a great deal of thought into this gift.”

With that, he beckoned Zhang Anan to follow him to the set of desks and chairs designed by Li Zhi for Li Shimin. Pei pointed to the newly assembled furniture and asked, “Take a look, Director Zhang. Do you think His Majesty will like these?”

At first glance, Zhang Anan was captivated by the novel shapes of the unfinished, uncarved, and unpainted desks and chairs. Though still in their early form, the essential components and outlines were fully assembled.

Pei Feishu personally demonstrated the desk’s features to Zhang Anan, the most remarkable of which were the practical little drawers. Although paper was becoming more common in the Tang Dynasty, most memorials and dossiers were still on scrolls made of tough yellow or xuan paper. These drawers allowed different types of documents to be sorted and kept separately, making it easy for Li Shimin to access them at any time.

Moreover, though the desk’s surface was large, it was not a standard rectangle; instead, the side facing the seat was deliberately curved. This way, Li Shimin could easily reach objects on either end of the desk without having to lean forward—he only needed to extend his arm.

After introducing the desk, Pei Feishu invited Zhang Anan to inspect the wide chair. The backrest, seat, and armrests were all wrapped in carefully tanned cowhide.

Pei Feishu said, “Director Zhang, you may try it for yourself—the chair is soft to sit on.”

Zhang Anan dared not sit directly, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he cautiously pressed his hand against it. To his surprise, his hand sank right in, and he could not feel any supporting board beneath. Only when he pressed down harder did he finally touch the wooden base.

Amazed, Zhang Anan asked, “Director Pei, what wondrous material have you used to make it so soft and comfortable?”

Pei Feishu smiled, “It’s nothing special—just some duck down stuffed inside.”

Zhang Anan was full of admiration at this explanation. “The artisans in the Ministry of Works are truly ingenious, to have crafted such practical desks and chairs.”

Pei Feishu, hearing the praise, humbly shook his head and replied, “Director Zhang, you give us too much credit. This innovative concept was the Prince of Jin’s own idea.”

Zhang Anan was so astonished at this that he could not help but raise his voice, “You mean to say all of this is the Prince of Jin’s own creation?”