If I traveled back to the Tang Dynasty, all I really wanted to be was a carefree prince.

Night deepened, and the candlelight in the side hall flickered, casting dim shadows on the walls. Li Ke sat at the table, several scrolls spread out before him, but he couldn't concentrate on a single word. The events of the past few days raced through his mind like a revolving lantern—Changsun Wuji went to his father, the Emperor, to ask to get involved in the wine business; his father neither agreed nor refused; he went to the Da'an Palace to plead with his grandfather, the Emperor, to intervene, and the matter was temporarily suppressed.

But Li Ke knew in his heart that this was only temporary. Changsun Wuji would not let it go so easily. That man was the leader of the Guanlong Group, whose word was law in the court, and whose disciples and old friends were everywhere. Today he retreated not because he was afraid, but because he couldn't figure out the situation. Once he figured it out, he would come back.

Li Ke stood up and walked to the window. Outside the window was Taiye Pond, where moonlight shimmered on the water. A chilly autumn wind blew across the pond, making the windowpanes creak. He gazed at the shimmering surface, his heart unsettled.

What does he have now? His father protects him, his grandfather dotes on him, and his elder brother Li Chengqian supports him. Outside, his masters Qin Qiong and Cheng Yaojin manage the winery business for him. But this is not enough. Qin Qiong and Cheng Yaojin are military generals with connections in the army, but their influence in the court is limited. He needs more people on his side, or at least not on his side.

Li Ke returned to the table, picked up a pen, and wrote down several names on a blank sheet of paper.

Li Jing. A military genius of the Tang Dynasty, he annihilated the Eastern Turks and achieved a great victory at Dingxiang City. He is now the Minister of War and the Duke of Dai. This man is both a scholar and a warrior, a skilled military leader, and holds a superior position in the court. He does not form factions. Changsun Wuji cannot win him over, nor can he afford to offend him.

Wei Zheng, the Imperial Censor, was known for his outspoken and courageous remonstrances, and was one of the emperor's most trusted advisors. He represented the Shandong gentry, judging people and matters solely by right and wrong, regardless of their social standing. Such a person is worth befriending.

Fang Xuanling. Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, the emperor's right-hand man. He was gentle in nature, meticulous in his thinking, and adept at resolving conflicts. When Li Ke was an apprentice in the Hall of State Affairs, Fang Xuanling provided him with much guidance and left a good impression.

Yuchi Gong. A famous general of the Tang Dynasty, and the most meritorious contributor to the Xuanwu Gate Incident. He was upright, loyal, and righteous. Li Ke had previously prescribed medicine for him, and his son, Yuchi Baolin, had a good relationship with Li Ke at the Hongwen Academy.

Li Ke put down his pen and looked at the names on the paper. Some of these people were civil officials, some were military generals, some were representatives of the Shandong gentry, and some were veteran generals with outstanding achievements. They were not members of the Guanlong Group, nor were they affiliated with Changsun Wuji. If he could win them over, at least keep them from standing on the opposite side, then he would not be isolated and helpless in the court.

But how could he win them over? He was only eleven years old, with no real power, no official position, and no fiefdom. What could he offer to befriend these important officials in the court?

Li Ke thought for a moment, and realized he only had three things to offer. First, his medical skills; he had already treated Qin Qiong, prescribed medicine for Yuchi Gong, and written remedies for Empress Zhangsun. No one would refuse someone who could cure illnesses. Second, his wine—a rare and exquisite liquor, unique in the world, currently registered under his grandfather's name, but he could give it away at any time. Third, his sincerity; he would make friends with genuine sincerity, not because of what they could bring him, but because they were worthy of his friendship.

Li Ke then remembered something else—salt.

While flipping through the "Treatise on Food and Commodities" in the Book of Sui today, one thought kept swirling in his mind. In the third year of the Kaihuang era of the Sui Dynasty, the salt tax was abolished, allowing the people to engage in salt production and sales freely. The Tang Dynasty continued this policy after its establishment, and it remains unchanged to this day. The production, transportation, and sale of salt are all handled by the private sector; the imperial court does not collect taxes or impose a monopoly, leaving everything entirely to the private sector. This situation has persisted for nearly half a century.

But Li Ke knew that salt could generate huge profits. Everyone in the world needs salt every day, and whoever controls salt controls an inexhaustible treasure trove.

However, there was a problem with the salt in the Tang Dynasty.

In his previous life, Li Ke was a medical doctor with a basic understanding of mineralogy and toxicology. Salt in this era was divided into two types: sea salt and rock salt. Sea salt was extracted from seawater and dried, containing few impurities and suitable for direct consumption. However, its production was limited, transportation was inconvenient, and its price was high, making it unaffordable for ordinary people. Rock salt was mined from salt mines, with large production volumes and low prices, but it contained a large amount of impurities and toxic substances—mainly magnesium chloride, magnesium sulfate, and heavy metals. Direct consumption could lead to poisoning, causing symptoms ranging from diarrhea and vomiting to death. Therefore, rock salt was only used for curing leather and feeding livestock; it was not for human consumption.

But what if we could purify the mineral salt, remove the toxic substances, and turn it into edible salt?

Li Ke's eyes lit up. He was a medical doctor, and although not a chemistry major, he understood the basic principles of filtration, precipitation, and crystallization. Most of the toxic impurities in mineral salts are soluble in water, as is sodium chloride (table salt). However, through repeated dissolution, filtration, and recrystallization, the impurity content can be significantly reduced. If some simple chemical methods are added—such as precipitating magnesium ions with wood ash water (containing potassium carbonate)—relatively pure table salt can be obtained. These methods do not require complex equipment or expensive materials; they only require patience and meticulousness.

When Li Ke was studying at medical school in his previous life, he had read an article about ancient salt industry technology, specifically the methods for purifying mineral salt in the Tang Dynasty. He had only casually flipped through it at the time, never expecting it would come in handy now.

If he could develop the technology to purify mineral salt, turning what was originally inedible mineral salt into edible salt, it would be equivalent to opening the door to the entire salt industry. Mineral salt has a large output and low cost; once purified successfully, it could be much cheaper than sea salt. Ordinary people could afford it, the imperial court could collect taxes from it, and it could be a state-run industry, generating huge profits.

Li Ke's heart skipped a beat as he thought of this.

But this is only the first step. The purification technology is his, the formula is his, and no one else can replicate it. He can develop the salt business just like he did with wine. The wine business has already made Changsun Wuji envious; once the salt business takes off, the impact will be even greater. He needs to plan ahead, he needs to win over more people to his side, and he needs to show his father, the Emperor, the benefits this will bring to the country, not just the revenue from the imperial treasury.

Li Ke picked up his pen again, wrote the character "salt" on the paper, and then drew a few lines next to it, marking out the things that needed to be done.

First, the experiment. He needs to find some mineral salt and try to purify it in the side hall. He needs to conduct small-scale trials first to confirm the method's feasibility before considering scaling up. This matter cannot be known to outsiders; only Li An can help.

Second, he needed to find people. The salt wasn't produced in Chang'an, but in Hedong, Huainan, and Jiangnan. He needed to find reliable people in those places to help him build workshops, mine salt, refine it, and sell it. These people had to be trustworthy, preferably children of meritorious officials or relatives of veteran generals.

Third, timing. He is only eleven years old and cannot directly tell his father, "I want to manage salt." He needs a suitable opportunity—such as a salt shortage in a certain area, or when a salt poisoning incident attracts the court's attention—before he can step forward and offer a method for refining salt.

Fourth, allies. He needs to win over figures like Li Jing, Wei Zheng, Fang Xuanling, and Yuchi Gong to his side. Not to have them work for him, but to make them understand what he's doing and recognize the significance of his work. This way, when someone objects, they will speak up for him.

Li Ke put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. He knew this matter was far more significant than selling wine. Wine was a luxury item, profiting from the wealthy, and even a large-scale operation like that had its limits. Salt, on the other hand, was a necessity, affecting the livelihoods of countless households; if he were to pursue it, it would be a matter of national importance, potentially shaking the very foundations of the nation. He had to be extremely cautious.

But he's not in a hurry. He's still young; he has plenty of time.

Li Ke stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at Taiye Pond.

Moonlight spilled across the water, creating shimmering ripples. A late autumn wind blew across the pond, carrying the scent of withered leaves, causing the windowpanes to creak. In the distance, the sound of a night watchman's drum echoed, deep and resonant.

He recalled his original aspirations—to be a carefree prince, learning medicine to save lives, martial arts to defend the country, and military strategy to guard the borders. He would earn some money, build connections, and eventually, upon arriving in his fiefdom, live a peaceful and stable life. He would not vie for the throne, not fight for succession, and not contend with anyone.

But Changsun Wuji wouldn't give him that chance. That person had his eye on him and wouldn't let him go just because he backed down. He could only keep moving forward, only make himself stronger, only get more people on his side.

He remembered his master Qin Qiong's words: "War isn't just about swords and spears; it's also about provisions and money. Without money, even the bravest general can't win a battle." He wanted to be a carefree prince, but that also required money and people. Money could do many things, and people could get things done.

Li Ke turned around, returned to the table, folded the papers, and tucked them into his sleeve.

He looked down at the candle flame; the wick was burning quite long, and the flame was flickering unsteadily. He picked up a pair of scissors and trimmed off a section of the wick. The flame became stable again, and the light was brighter than before.

He put down the scissors, gently blew out the candle. Moonlight streamed in through the window, so the room wasn't dark.

He lay down on the couch, held the jade pendant in his hand, and slowly closed his eyes.