The old emperor allotted each farr a mu of land to plant potatoes, making it easier for them to experint.
Most farrs were inford of this purpose.
As ti passed, and by early July when the potatoes matured, countless reports flooded the emperor’s desk.
Sector A-24: Overwatered potatoes; by harvest, the potatoes were only the size of pigeon eggs. Failure.Sector C-31: Used chicken manure as fertilizer; it attracted burrowing insects, leaving the potatoes pitted and unsightly. Considered a failure.Sector B-09: Initial harvesting with an iron shovel caused damage. Switched to a four-pronged fork, reducing losses. Notable contribution.Sector D-12: Stored potatoes in a vegetable cellar; after seven days, they sprouted and shriveled due to excessive heat. Failure.Sector E-26: An innovative idea—discovered that boiled potatoes turned sticky and, when mixed with mud and dried, ford bricks with a hard texture.
The old emperor: “…”
The old emperor: “This… deserves a reward too.”
After all, potatoes were relatively easy to obtain. In the future, the common people could slowly accumulate “potato bricks” and replace their earthen houses with sturdier brick hos, which provided better insulation.
He then asked, “Is there really no saving that ship’s cargo hold full of potatoes and sweet potatoes?”
Xie Luoshui and the great general lowered their heads, feeling deeply guilty toward the people of Huaxia.
The great general slapped his thigh. “I’ll make another trip to the Paraguay tribes! Now that I know the route, it won’t take two years this ti. I’ll bring back more potato and sweet potato seeds. And this ti, I definitely won’t store them together!”
Previously, all the other cargo holds had been separated, but one hold had mixed storage. Who could have predicted that storing potatoes and sweet potatoes together would ruin them—causing the sweet potatoes to develop a hardened core and the potatoes to sprout?
That entire batch was ruined.
—Though sprouted potatoes could still be planted, the problem was that they were at sea when it happened.
The old emperor nodded. “No matter. Whenever new crops are introduced, trial and error is inevitable. It’s normal to have losses. This ti, we cultivated a hundred mu of potatoes, and over the past few months, we’ve compiled all the issues into five booklets. But the hardest part is always the beginning—once we get past that, things will be much easier in the future.”
The great general and Xie Luoshui nodded in agreent.
Suddenly, the old emperor unfurled a painting across the table. “Co, take a look. I had this drawn when I personally harvested my potatoes.”
—He truly did it himself. The emperor had allocated himself a small plot and took care of everything personally—planting, watering, fertilizing, and tending to the potato seedlings. When harvest ti arrived, he dug them up himself, refusing any help from the agricultural officials.
The great general and Xie Luoshui leaned in to see.
In the painting, a robust elderly man in his sixties with graying hair carried a four-pronged fork over his shoulder. A pile of freshly unearthed potatoes, still clinging to the soil, lay at his feet. Dressed in a simple hemp shirt and long trousers, his tanned skin contrasted with his bright white teeth as he grinned joyfully.
The entire painting radiated the pure joy of a bountiful harvest.
Xie Luoshui and the great general spoke in unison: “This is an excellent painting!”
They could fully appreciate its charm.
The old emperor burst into hearty laughter. “It looks good, sure, but I’m getting old. Just farming half a mu nearly wore out. Don’t be fooled by how energetic I appear in the painting—after months of working under the scorching sun, my back aches, and my hands are calloused.”
Still, it was worth it.
Because as long as potatoes could be grown, there would be more seeds.
And with more seeds, these veteran farrs could return to their holands and cultivate even more potatoes.
There’s no need for a deliberate promotion. Once farrs notice that their neighbor—who had gone to the capital—returned ho and started planting a new crop that can serve as a staple, is filling, has high yield per mu, and can even grow in mountainous areas, their curiosity will naturally be piqued, and they will seek out the seeds themselves.
This is far more effective than any governnt-led promotion.
For now, though, the sweet potatoes haven’t finished being harvested, so there’s no rush.
Xu Yanmiao chopped up the turkey at and tossed it into the pan, stir-frying it with sliced mushrooms and diced onions. Finally, he added spinach. Various seasonings were sprinkled in throughout the cooking process, and before long, a hearty stew was ready.
As soon as he placed the dish on the table, a lion cat that had been cooling itself by the ice basin suddenly leaped onto Xu Yanmiao’s lap, staring up at him with big, round eyes.
While gently stroking the cat’s back, Xu Yanmiao thought—
[Its fur is so smooth and cool… Clearly well taken care of.]
At the sa ti, he solemnly declared, “No way, little one, this is my food.”
Then, with reverence, he picked up his chopsticks, brought a piece of turkey at to his mouth, and chewed.
“…”
Chewing…
“…”
With a blank expression, Xu Yanmiao forced himself to swallow the turkey.
Internally, he was screaming: [How can any at be drier than chicken breast?!]
[It’s like eating tissue paper.]
He stared at the plate for a long while.
[I can’t waste food…]
[But this is really terrible…]
[But wasting food is truly shaful…]
[Wait! I’ve got it!]
A figurative lightbulb lit up over Xu Lang’s head. Quickly, he used his chopsticks to pick out all the turkey at, placed it onto an empty plate, and carried it next door.
“Granny! Granny! I need a favor!”
The elderly woman next door opened her door with a warm voice. “What is it, dear?”
Xu Yanmiao held up the plate. “Could you help mash this into a paste?”
—The household cook had already gone ho at this hour, so he had no choice but to ask for help.
[Mashing it should make it easier to eat, right?]
The old woman chuckled. “Of course! Co pick it up in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, Granny!”
“Aye!”
The old woman carried the plate into the kitchen and went to fetch her at-mashing tools.
Just as she turned her back, a shadowy figure peeked in—the Left Army Censor-General.
With a swift movent, he reached out and secretly swapped a piece of at.
What he placed back was a piece of chicken—chicken thigh, no less—while he took the turkey. Then, he bolted to a far corner, away from the kitchen.
Let see just how tough this at really is…
“Gag—!”
Marquis Yongchang climbed over the wall into the courtyard, stealthily grabbed a piece of turkey at, and replaced it with a piece of duck at.
Internally, he muttered: Can it really be that bad?
“Gag—”
“I refuse to believe that any at could taste like eating paper!”
The Front Army Censor-General put down a piece of rabbit at and swiftly took a piece of turkey at.
“Gag—”
“Finally found it.”
The elderly woman returned to the kitchen with her at-mashing tools, pausing in front of the plate of at with a montary sense of confusion.
Sothing… feels off about this at.
But after a brief hesitation, she dismissed the thought as overthinking, dumped the at into the cleaned mortar, and pounded it into a paste before transferring it back to the plate.
Fifteen minutes later, Xu Yanmiao arrived right on ti. “Thank you, Granny!”
The old woman bead. “No need to thank , dear.”
Xu Yanmiao took the “turkey at” ho, braced himself, and took a spoonful.
[Huh?]
[Why does this taste… kind of good? Could it be that anything turned into a paste just isn’t bad anymore?]
[Nice!]
He was a genius!
Happily, Xu Yanmiao finished an entire bowl of “turkey at paste,” though he had no intention of eating the remaining at.
“Co here, little one!”
Xu Yanmiao tossed the turkey at into a pot, boiled it in plain water without seasoning, then shredded it into the cat’s bowl.
“Daddy won’t eat this at, you can have it all.”
The little cat, utterly unaware of the horrors that awaited, let out an excited whimper and buried its head into the dish.
Then—
Its head shot up, and it bolted away, distancing itself as far as possible from the turkey at.
[Speaking of which, now that the potatoes have matured, should I ask the Crown Prince for a few so I can experint with making fries?]
The very first thought that crossed Xu Yanmiao’s mind during the next morning’s court session was this.
The Crown Prince had been zoning out, but upon hearing his title ntioned, he snapped back to attention. After replaying Xu Yanmiao’s previous words in his mind, he suddenly beca very interested.
Fries…? I don’t even know what those are. Are they tasty?
[Speaking of the Crown Prince…] Xu Yanmiao’s thoughts jumped erratically. [Why does the old emperor’s habit of exiling people to Yunnan-Guizhou, only to bring them back and grant them favor once the Crown Prince ascends, seem so familiar? I’ve definitely seen this sowhere before… But where?]
Xu Yanmiao sank deep into contemplation.
His absent-mindedness was painfully obvious, but from the emperor down to the censors, everyone tactfully ignored it.
Instead, they took advantage of the mont to discuss official matters.
The old emperor spoke: “Gao Huachun, step forward and explain the morial you submitted yesterday. Why do you propose shifting the tax system from paynts in kind to paynts in silver?”
So officials were montarily stunned, trying to recall who Gao Huachun was.
It wasn’t until Princess Wanshou stepped forward that they rembered—this was her given na.
Princess Wanshou bowed and saluted. “Your Majesty, the imperial treasury currently holds over thirty million taels of silver.”
The old emperor: “How much?!”
Princess Wanshou: “Over thirty million taels of silver.”
The old emperor: “Where did so much silver co from?”
Princess Wanshou: “Your Majesty, in the past, our treasury’s silver reserves primarily ca from dostic mining and tributes from foreign nations—Wakoku, Jiaozhi, Myanmar, Goryeo… Their annual tributes barely reached three hundred thousand taels. However, now that the silver mines of Wakoku are entirely under our control, our annual silver yield exceeds five million taels. Additionally, thanks to mariti trade…”
Princess Wanshou was tactful—exceedingly tactful.
She called it “mariti trade,” but in reality, it was selling śarīra artifacts abroad.
Of course, while they were indeed doing this, it was not sothing to be openly discussed. The people handling exports disguised these śarīra artifacts as rare treasures and made enormous profits. This practice didn’t quite align with the refined image of the “Nation of Etiquette” or the “Heavenly Dynasty.”
—(By the way, the śarīra artifacts were made from chicken bones.)
“Ohhh.” The old emperor suddenly understood. “Continue.”
Princess Wanshou said, “A treasury full of silver is aningless if it cannot be converted into grain and textiles. In the end, it’s just useless tal.”
She continued, “I believe that if we shift taxation to be primarily silver-based, making silver the standard for land rent, corvée, and tributes, then the thirty million taels of silver in our national treasury will start to circulate.”
At this, an official stepped forward and challenged her: “Silver stored in the treasury does not disappear. Why does it need to ‘circulate’? On the contrary, if taxes are primarily collected in silver, the common people will have to exchange their rice and wheat for silver before they can pay their dues. This process opens the door to all sorts of exploitations. Many families have been driven to ruin because of this! What exactly is Your Highness’s intention?”
Princess Wanshou calmly replied, “Paying taxes in silver is more convenient for the common people to transport. Moreover, I never proposed that all land taxes must be paid solely in silver. People can still choose to pay in grain, raw silk, raw cotton, or textiles, depending on their circumstances and needs.”
She turned to the old emperor again and decided to present a simple nurical example to illustrate how silver taxation could ease transportation burdens and reduce corvée labor. After all, transporting tax paynts required mobilizing labor from the populace.
“This year, Jiangnan’s grain tax amounts to four million shi (bushels). If converted into silver, only one million taels would need to be transported.”
I have never eaten turkey, but you might have. How is the taste?
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