"The future of Taoran Pavilion?"
Qin Hao's interest ignited instantly. He strode to Gu Yanshu's desk just as the lacquered box opened—
Only to find its contents still shrouded by a layer of velvet padding.
The meticulous wrapping mirrored Xing Ren's earlier caution, stoking Qin Hao's curiosity further.
His eyes locked onto Gu Yanshu's hands as they parted the fabric—
Revealing an object that made his breath hitch:
"A... liuli cup?!"
Tianqi's national treasury housed a single such treasure—
One Qin Lu had seized from a corrupt official during his campaigns.
Qin Hao had glimpsed it briefly before it was gifted to the Emperor.
Yet the vessel in Gu Yanshu's hands differed starkly:
Where the treasury's liuli was hazy like jade, this was crystalline clarity.
Sunlight poured through it, etching Gu Yanshu's fingerprints in sharp relief against the glass.
"Not liuli," Gu Yanshu corrected softly. "This is called glass."
"Glass?" Qin Hao echoed the alien term.
"Consider it liuli's purer cousin—more transparent, more luminous."
(Explaining silica vs. lead-based compositions to pre-industrial minds was futile.)
While Qin Hao marveled, Qin Lu connected the dots:
"Your kiln visits—this was the goal?"
Though guards accompanied Gu Yanshu everywhere, Qin Lu had never pried into his consort's projects.
Only now did the pieces align—
The glass cup's arrival from Taoran Kiln confirmed it.
"Indeed," Gu Yanshu admired the cup's flawless surface. "I'd allotted Zhou Lao-San two months for R&D. Their speed surprised even me."
Gu Yanshu had provided Zhou Lao-San the glassmaking formula—
Yet the foreman's progress stunned even him.
Within three days, Zhou produced the first prototype—
Though riddled with cloudy impurities and trapped bubbles, it marked a promising start.
Subsequent days saw Zhou obsessively refining clarity and purity.
Just before the price war's climax, he'd proposed a new method—
Requiring a full kiln firing to test.
Timing aligned perfectly:
Taoran Kiln needed to resume operations anyway to sell the "reopening" illusion to Yun Cizhai.
Gu Yanshu greenlit the experiment—
Then forgot it amid the strategic chaos.
Until today's delivery.
Now, inspecting the sample teacup, Gu Yanshu approved silently:
While lacking modern designs' intricacy, its flawless transparency rivaled 21st-century standards.
Not a single bubble marred its structure.
"You made this?" Qin Hao finally rasped.
"Taoran Kiln did. I merely provided the theory."
(Gu Yanshu wasn't about to claim kiln laborers' credit.)
To Qin Hao, the distinction meant little:
"So Taoran Pavilion will sell this... glass now?"
"Mn."
Gu Yanshu lifted the teapot, pouring amber-hued tea into the glass cup—
The liquid's clarity magnified tenfold by its crystalline vessel.
Sunlight struck the glass, scattering prismatic flares across the desk.
Qin Hao's imagination ignited:
Tea leaves dancing in glass pots—their unfurling petals visible through transparent walls...
"When will sales start? Reserve me a set!"
Gu Yanshu's unasked marketability question answered itself.
"Why wait? I'll send a set to your manor once the next batch fires."
"My gratitude, Sister-in-law!" Qin Hao beamed, already mentally arranging his future tea ceremonies.
Qin Lu, ever pragmatic, probed deeper:
"Glass excels in transparency but lacks ceramics' versatility. It can't fully replace porcelain."
"It can't," Gu Yanshu agreed. "Monochrome simplicity grows stale—whereas ceramics offer endless patterns."
Even Tianqi's already-diverse porcelain trends cycled every few years.
Glass's novelty would inevitably fade.
"Then why pivot Taoran Pavilion?"
Gu Yanshu's smile turned sly:
"Who said we're abandoning ceramics?"
Gu Yanshu had no intention of abandoning ceramics—
Glass would simply become Taoran Pavilion's flagship product, elevating its brand prestige.
"Besides, glass isn't limited to teacups or vases."
While developing glass to crush Yun Cizhai was the initial goal—
Its applications far exceeded porcelain's boundaries.
"Oh?" Qin Lu's gaze dropped to the tea-filled glass, intrigued.
"Take windows, for instance." Gu Yanshu tapped the cup. "With glass panes, winter rooms stay bright without drafts."
The example struck a visceral chord.
Tianqi's dim candlelight already annoyed Gu Yanshu—
But the silk-gauze window coverings plaguing every manor were worse.
Though elegant, their light-blocking properties forced a cruel choice:
Freezing daylight or stuffy darkness.
Even now, despite the deepening cold, Gu Yanshu kept windows open for illumination—
Leaving Qin Hao (and himself) shivering under layered robes despite charcoal braziers.
Qin Lu, with his深厚内力, remained unfazed by icy gusts.
As if on cue, a wind sliced through the study—
Making Qin Hao visibly flinch.
"Glass windows would outperform silk-gauze! I want them!"
No decorum now—just puppy-eyed pleading.
Gu Yanshu, generous to allies, nodded instantly:
"Certainly. But window glass requires additional R&D. Patience, Fifth Brother."
"I'll wait!" Qin Hao agreed eagerly.
His attention then snagged on the glass teacup again—
Recalling the liuli cup Qin Lu had gifted the Emperor years prior.
Had it not been a one-of-a-kind treasure (and politically unwise to keep)—
Qin Hao would've claimed it for himself.
Later, he'd even hinted to the Emperor about acquiring it—
Only to be flatly denied.
Subsequent searches for similarly transparent jade proved futile.
Now, this superior glass version dazzled him anew.
He reached out, fingers hovering—
Afraid to damage the fragile beauty before withdrawing.
Gu Yanshu, watching his puppy-like restraint, chuckled:
"Take this cup if you adore it so."
Qin Hao's eyes lit up—before shaking his head resolutely:
"No, you promised me a full set soon. Besides..."
A sly grin surfaced:
"This first sample should go to Father."