Chapter 90: With These, He is Confident That in Ten, No, Five Years, the World Will Be Free from Famine

Chapter 90 With these, he was confident that within ten years—no, five years—he could end hunger across the realm.

"You may not believe our identities, but if I told you all these things truly exist, would you still be skeptical?"

The staff didn’t rush to explain. Instead, they took out a tablet, turned it on, and presented it to Ji Zichen.

Moving pictures came to life on the screen.

The scene showed golden seas of rice stalks. As a person drove a mechanical vehicle through them, the rice bowed in uniform rows. The grains were automatically collected by a device on the vehicle, leaving behind only orderly straw in its wake.

Ji Zichen gaped in wonder at the sight.

He leaned closer to the tablet, trying to examine it in greater detail.

What made the images remarkable wasn’t just that they moved—they were so lifelike, as if an immortal had captured a scene of mortal farming, miniaturized it, and embedded it into this frame slightly larger than a mirror for viewing.

But that wasn’t what shocked him.

He had seen moving images before, like those in moving lanterns. Though those weren’t as vivid or magical as this, they were somewhat similar. So he wasn't completely stunned.

Under different circumstances, he might have marveled at this.

But now, Ji Zichen kept shifting his gaze between the mechanical vehicle controlled by a single person and the rice in the scene. For a moment, he didn’t know which to focus on—he couldn't get enough of either.

Never had he seen such rice!

And that mechanical vehicle in the image, capable of harvesting rice so quickly and efficiently—if the Hui Dynasty had such a thing, what a difference it would make for his people!

He was confident that within ten years—no, five—he could usher in a new golden age.

But before he could process what he was witnessing, the image on the screen changed again.

The first video, less than a minute long, disappeared, replaced by a new one showing several people busy at some task.

At first, Ji Zichen didn’t understand what they were doing, and he couldn’t help but regret how short the first scene had been.

Then he watched as the people in the new video threw up an incredibly even, broad roadway in what seemed like no time. Not even imperial highways matched this width or smoothness.

Not to mention how much time, labor, and materials it took to build imperial roads.

If roadways like this could be laid across the land, it would do more than conserve labor.

With such roadways, reinforcements and supplies could hold invaders at the frontier swiftly in emergencies.

Royal edicts could race across the realm, and reports of disasters or crises from every region could reach the capital immediately for prompt action.

His mind reeled at the possibilities. With unhindered administration, even if corrupt officials remained, pulling the wool over superiors' eyes wouldn't be as easy as before.

How much cleaner and more efficient governance would become!

The more Ji Zichen watched, the more his eyes sparkled with excitement.

At the end of the video, the same road appeared again, now clearly in use after completion.

Numerous wheeled contraptions streamed back and forth—probably some kind of horseless carriage.

Despite so many vehicles streaming back and forth, the roadway held firm.

Suddenly, a massive, towering truck packed with cargo drove over. Ji Zichen instinctively caught his breath, afraid the road would give way.

But the truck passed without issue, as if it were no heavier than a regular car.

Ji Zichen slowly exhaled, only then realizing his hands were clammy with sweat. The last time he’d felt this nervous was when he first ascended the throne.

He had initially thought that such a quickly and easily constructed road might have flaws in durability.

But now, it appeared far sturdier than Hui Dynasty roads.

Another video appeared.

A snowstorm was raging outside, so frigid that just standing there chilled him. Yet, the people in the video were dressed lightly as they walked outdoors.

A young woman walked at an easy pace, her limbs relaxed, showing no sign of shivering. Her face was rosy, her eyes bright—clearly unaffected by the cold.

Otherwise, she would have hunched over and scurried home to escape the snowstorm, her complexion pale and lips blue from the biting chill.

But she moved with such ease. Nearby, children played, also lightly dressed, looking like little snow angels.

One child even held something to eat.

It looked like a bowl of ice, but eating ice in this weather? Ji Zichen thought he must be seeing things—perhaps it was some warm dish instead.

Next, the video cut to a hospital, where a critically wounded man was rushed in.

The man’s eyes were closed, his head bloodied, and one arm had been severed, the limb placed beside him.

Most horrifying of all, a thick object—thicker than an arrow—was embedded in his skull.

A woman—probably his wife—was sobbing on the floor. In her arms, a tiny girl looked around in confusion, unaware of what was happening.

Moments later, the little girl, startled by the crying, began wailing as well.

Ji Zichen thought with a pang. A severed arm could still be treated, but the head injury was too severe. Not even a martial arts master could survive such a wound, let alone an ordinary man.

Yet, the next moment, the man was brought out.

His severed arm had been reattached, his head tightly bandaged. The family rushed over, and the doctor nodded slightly, saying, "We got the rebar out. The surgery was successful!"

"He’s stable now, but he’ll need further observation in the hospital."

The family burst into grateful tears, even bowing with the child in thanks, much to the doctor’s embarrassment.

Though some terms were unfamiliar, the doctor’s words clearly meant the man would recover.

And the family’s reaction showed they believed him completely, with no doubt of deception.

How was this possible?

Even the earlier videos had been astonishing, but this—this was like bringing someone back from the dead. It was no less than reviving the dead. Not even the greatest physicians of the martial world could achieve such a feat.

Ji Zichen struggled to believe it, yet deep down, he sensed it was true.

And in this conflicted state, he watched as the video concluded—the injured man, though weak and bedridden, was awake, even sitting up slightly to eat.

He had truly survived.

Not only had he survived, but Ji Zichen also noticed that the other's severed arm, which had been empty before, now appeared fully intact.

Another new video appeared, showing batches of glistening white salt being mass-produced.

Then came videos about irrigation systems, shipbuilding, black powder…

Finally, when no more images appeared and the screen faded back into darkness, Ji Zichen still sat stunned for a long time.

"Your Majesty, you can return. Don’t you want to bring these things back with you?" the staff member asked.

Ji Zichen’s heart trembled violently.

How could he not ache to take them back? He was practically driven mad by the thought!

He wanted every single thing shown in those images. He could already imagine how transformative these would be for the Hui Dynasty.

His people's lives would improve, and the nation would grow stronger.

However, though his pulse raced, Ji Zichen did not lose his rationality.

"I... how can I be sure you’re not playing me false?"

"Though I desperately want to believe these things truly exist, my belief alone means nothing—they must be real."

If all of this were mere clever illusions, no honeyed words would make him relent.

Indeed, Ji Zichen had already realized that the authorities here intended to propose an exchange.

Perhaps all the effort to snatch him from his palace had been for this very purpose.

Being snatched from his chambers should have enraged him, but what he had just witnessed doused his anger entirely.

"You want proof? That’s simple!"

The staff member opened a small case they had brought along. Inside, it was overflowing with rice grains, and atop them lay a long, heavy stalk of rice.

They pushed the case toward Ji Zichen.

His eyes fixed on the stalk of rice.

Carefully, he picked it up.

Its heft surprised him.

From the images earlier, he hadn’t seen it clearly—the footage had shown a rice field rather than a close-up of the stalk itself.

Though he had vaguely sensed the rice was different, promising unbelievable harvests, now, holding the stalk in his hand, Ji Zichen realized it spanned his outstretched hand. The grains hung fat and plentiful.

Each kernel was full and large.

Looking back at the case, every grain inside was equally robust.

Even the finest rice seeds he had meticulously selected in previous years seemed pitiful by comparison—they now struck him as scrawny, meager, and scattered.

Besides the rice, the staff member took another case from behind, opened it, and pushed it toward Ji Zichen as well.

It's wheat.

The wheat ear placed on top was so thick and large that, compared to it, even tribute wheat looked like foxtail grass.

"Seeing is believing," the staff member said with a smile. "You can’t say I’m fooling you now, can you?"

Officials didn’t clear the crowd—one reason was that everyone present was in the know; another was that they feared someone suddenly leaving might set Ji Zichen off or make him suspicious. Of course, in Sheng Qingquan's view, the latter was the main reason.

Because the officials arrived so quickly, Old Lady Chang, who had originally planned to cook, ultimately didn't get the chance. But at that moment, Chang Zilan, seeing the situation, got a bright idea and darted into the kitchen.

She brought out the remaining half-bag of rice from the house and placed it in front of Ji Zichen.

"This is our everyday rice. See? Even after husking, the grains are still this big."

Ji Zichen grabbed a handful of rice—each grain was bigger than royal tribute rice, and the aroma was rich.

"Besides rice and wheat, our country has many other high-yield strains. All of these can be used for trade."

"If you want, I’ll show you," the staff member added at the right moment.

"Whether it’s machines for harvesting rice, cement for road construction, or anything else—name it."

"Even if you can’t physically take these things back, you can memorize the know-how. Copy them back home."

"And what we need from you won’t be hard for you."

"Martial arts manuals."

"You can exchange them for martial arts manuals."

"Keep what you practice—we won’t ask for it, and we won’t go after them. But we’ll need at least three top-tier manuals, ten advanced ones, and fifty intermediate ones."

"For the lower-tier ones, you can decide, but there must be at least one that’s widely usable—something most people can practice. Even if its power is slightly weaker, it shouldn’t be so weak that practicing it does nothing. It should at least give people some means of self-defense."

"You must also spell out the pros and cons of these manuals, the necessary steps for cultivation, whether external assistance is required, and any special precautions—no concealment."

"And you must include methods for checking someone’s aptitude."

"If you can meet these conditions, we’ll share all the knowledge related to what you’ve just seen and even provide actual samples."

"We have what you need, and you have what we need. A fair trade." The staff member spelled out the deal plainly.

However, he left room for negotiation when presenting them.

Ji Zichen fell silent for a moment before speaking. "Top-tier manuals don’t grow on trees. Three is too many—I can give you two at most."

After a pause, he explained, "Although the imperial family has collected martial arts manuals over generations, top-tier techniques are often the well-kept secrets of major sects."

"Ordinary disciples have no chance to learn them. Even inner disciples only get taught a move or two if they get on their elders’ good side. Typically, only direct disciples of the sect leader receive the first few layers of the techniques."

That’s right—even direct disciples might not receive the complete manual.

"Over the years, the imperial family has only managed to acquire two—and that was pure luck."

"Eight advanced manuals, fifteen intermediate ones. For the lower-tier, I can give you five. Two of them meet your requirements."

"One leans toward offense, the other toward defense. Both are simple and easy to learn. No matter how poor one’s potential, with perseverance, they can master them. The remaining three have some requirements for aptitude, but they’re not strict. Most people can learn them, and their power is slightly greater than the first two."

"I can also teach you the methods for checking someone’s aptitude. And I’ll provide the recipes for herbal baths and strengthening brews."

"I can also teach you methods to cultivate energy channels, impart knowledge of mystical battle formations, and instruct you in poisoncraft and gu arts..."

"I know you must have better things you haven't shown yet. Now is the time to bring them out for trade."

Not out of the question.

However, the staff member spoke up: "Many things, if taken to your side, would be too far ahead of your time. Sometimes they could backfire."

"Perhaps we should first take you out to see for yourself. Just tell us what you're after." They would give what they could, and discuss the rest in detail later.

Ji Zichen caught the drift immediately and agreed.

"Just one thing left to ask."

Before Ji Zichen could speak, the staff member had already guessed his query.

"No."

"It wasn't us who brought Your Majesty here. You'll see for yourself when we head out—this is just an ordinary home."

"If we had invited Your Majesty, we wouldn't have chosen this place."

"Meeting in a commoner's home would not only be rude to Your Majesty, but we’d also be bothering folks. That’s not how we do things here."