Chapter 231

Chapter 231

As more and more potatoes were unearthed from the soil, the tenant farmers following behind to collect them grinned from ear to ear. Having farmed their entire lives, this was the first time they had ever dug up so much food from the earth.

Wang Ying, sweating profusely from the effort, was tossing potatoes into a burlap sack. There were too many—it was an endless task.

He straightened his back, intending to take off his straw hat to fan himself, but a glance from the corner of his eye startled him to see the crowd standing in the distance. When had so many people arrived?

Looking more closely, he noticed that among them were not only the Minister of Agriculture but also the Minister of Personnel, Lord Liu, along with many other unfamiliar officials. Wang Ying hurried forward and knelt, kowtowing.

"This humble official Wang Ying pays his respects to all the esteemed lords."

"Rise, young master Wang. Are these the potatoes you cultivated?" Emperor Wuping inquired excitedly.

Wang Ying had never met the emperor and did not know who the speaker was, but judging by the fact that no one else dared to speak before him, he guessed this must be a high-ranking official.

After a moment’s consideration, he replied, "To answer your question, my lord, this is indeed the potato."

Beside him, Wen Yanping broke out in a nervous sweat. What was Wang Ying doing, calling the emperor "my lord" instead of "Your Majesty"!

"Wang Ying, this is—"

"Ah, it doesn't matter," Emperor Wuping interrupted Wen Yanping. A mere form of address did not bother him. He continued, "I see these potatoes are growing well. What's the yield per *mu*?"

"To answer your question, my lord, normally, a *mu* should yield seven to eight *dan* without issue." In truth, Wang Ying was being conservative. If the soil were fertile, yields of one to two thousand *jin* per *mu* were common—after all, modern potato yields could reach three to five thousand *jin* per *mu*.

"Seven to eight *dan*?!" The officials from the Ministry of Revenue standing behind were astonished. Wheat and millet yields were typically around two to three *dan* per *mu*. Even in Shanzhou, where Wang Ying’s composting method was used, yields did not exceed three *dan*.

The potato’s yield was more than double that of wheat and millet!

Emperor Wuping continued, "What if we had all the common people switch to growing potatoes?"

"That wouldn't be advisable, my lord. You may not be aware, but although potatoes yield highly, they really deplete the soil. If planted continuously for several years, even good land will turn poor, and the potato crop will fail. Moreover, potatoes cannot be stored as long as wheat or millet."

Wang Ying picked up a potato from the ground and scratched it with his fingernail, revealing a white, starchy liquid slowly oozing out. "Potatoes have high moisture content. If not stored properly, they easily rot or sprout. Sprouted potatoes produce toxins—consumption can cause vomiting and diarrhea in mild cases, and be fatal in severe cases."

A nervous eunuch, alarmed, hurriedly urged Wang Ying to move the potato farther away.

Wang Ying scratched his head thoughtfully, tossed the potato back into the field, and continued, "However, there is a way to extend their storage life: slice the potatoes and sun-dry them. In winter, they can be used in stews or as a staple food."

He remembered how, every autumn in his childhood, his grandparents would sun-dry large quantities of potato slices. Vegetables were expensive in winter, and the elderly couple were too thrifty to buy them, serving dried potatoes for meal after meal until Wang Ying grew tired of them.

Back then, he had secretly vowed never to eat them again once he grew up. Now he missed them dearly. Once the harvest was done, he planned to dry some for winter stews.

Emperor Wuping lifted his robe's hem and personally stepped into the field, joining the farmers in gathering potatoes.

Seeing this, the other officials quickly rolled up their sleeves and joined in.

As he worked, Emperor Wuping discussed how to cook potatoes with the officials beside him. "This thing doesn't look like much. I wonder how it tastes?"

Liu Yaozhi waved Wang Ying over. "Wang Ying, come here."

"What can I do for you, my lord?"

"How do you eat these potatoes?"

Wang Ying said, "There are many ways! The most common is to peel them, steam them in a pot, and eat them directly—simple and natural, with a delicate texture. You can also slice them and stir-fry with meat, or cut them into chunks and stew with chicken. Stewed potatoes become soft and tender, easy to digest, very suitable for the elderly and children."

Emperor Wuping laughed, "It seems young master Wang is also good at cooking."

Soon, the potatoes from one *mu* were harvested, all collected into burlap sacks, tied shut, and weighed.

Everyone held their breath, everyone watching the scale.

Each sack weighed about one *dan*. In total, there were sixteen and a half sacks—approximately sixteen *dan*!

Good heavens! One *mu* had yielded sixteen *dan* of food—more than five times the yield of millet or wheat!

The expressions on everyone’s faces went from calm to shocked, and then to disbelief. How could such a small thing, buried in the soil, produce so much?

Emperor Wuping, delighted, clapped his hands and said, "At noon, bring some potatoes to the imperial kitchen and have them cooked for me to taste."

"Your Majesty, he mentioned earlier this thing is poisonous..."

Wang Ying hurriedly explained, "Freshly harvested potatoes are not poisonous. Only those improperly stored and sprouted become toxic."

Emperor Wuping said, "Then steam more, and let all my ministers taste some."

The officials knelt and thanked him. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Only then did Wang Ying realize the man’s identity. He dropped heavily to his knees, too terrified to lift his head.

This was the current emperor—the one who held the power of life and death over the entire nation—and he had just addressed him as "my lord"!

The pressure was overwhelming; beads of sweat dripped from his temples. Was this not a grave offense?

"I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness! This humble official did not know it was Your Majesty..."

The emperor’s voice sounded above him. "You've done nothing wrong, dear minister. Rise quickly. Though you are of *gere* status, you possess more ability and achievement than ordinary men. These potatoes will save countless common people. I thank you on their behalf."

"N-no, I d-dare not accept such praise. To be of service to Your Majesty is... is an honor for this humble official." Wang Ying was so nervous he could barely speak coherently.

Emperor Wuping said nothing more, brushed the dirt from his hands, turned, and returned to his carriage to head back to the palace.

The remaining officials quickly followed suit. After everyone had left, the Minister of Agriculture, beaming, said, "Wang Ying, you’ve brought great honor to our Ministry of Agriculture! The spring famine next year can be averted!"

Whether out of genuine admiration or mere pretense, the other colleagues came forward one by one to congratulate him.

"Congratulations, Manager Wang."

In a daze, Wang Ying cupped his hands in return. It wasn’t until he was seated in the carriage heading home that he fully grasped what had happened. He had met the emperor today—and even spoken with him! My goodness, it was truly unbelievable!

*

The successful cultivation of potatoes was a great achievement for the Ministry of Agriculture, with Wang Ying credited as the chief contributor.

Soon, rewards were announced: a thousand taels of silver and a promotion of three ranks, elevating him from a seventh-rank manager to a fifth-rank vice minister of agriculture—the second-in-command at the ministry.

This was a position Zang Mingsheng had long coveted. He had previously pulled many strings, expecting a promotion this year, only to be thwarted by the sudden rise of Wang Ying. So angry he took sick leave for half a month.

Wang Ying’s reputation gradually spread throughout the capital. Many came to know that there was a *gere* in the Ministry of Agriculture who had cultivated a new crop called the potato—tasty, high-yielding, capable of producing over a thousand *jin* per *mu*!

The potato needed little promotion. Soon, people in the capital and surrounding areas rushed to buy these superior seeds.

Ten *mu* yielded over ten thousand *jin* of potatoes. The Ministry of Agriculture kept only three hundred *jin* as seed stock, distributing the rest to various prefectures to begin cultivation according to Wang Ying’s manual.

Like dandelion seeds, these potatoes scattered far and wide, waiting to take root and sprout come spring.

*

Three years later, in a small village in Yanzhou.

A few five- or six-year-old children played at the edge of the field, while a group of adults harvested the crops.

"Uncle Liu, did your family plant Yingdou this year too?"

"Ah, we planted one *mu* of land, not sure how they'll turn out though."

A plump woman laughed, "One *mu* is plenty to eat. Our family planted one *mu* last year too, harvested nearly twelve *dan*, and we had plenty left even after eating through the winter."

Old Man Liu replied, "Your family's land is fertile. Our plot doesn't yield much with other crops, so we tried planting some Yingdou this time, but the harvest probably won't be great."

As they spoke, three or four men started digging up the Yingdou with rakes. With one rake pull, they unearthed six or seven plump, round Yingdou.

The old man was overjoyed, "Hey, there really are quite a lot! Shuanzi, Huzi, stop playing around and come over to pick up the Yingdou."

"Alright." The children ran over at the call, crouching down to gather the beans. In no time, the willow baskets were full.

Old Man Liu had thought the harvest wouldn't be much, so he had only brought three baskets. Now, before even half the *mu* was harvested, they were already running out. He quickly sent his eldest grandson home to fetch more baskets.

While waiting for the tools, his little granddaughter tugged at his sleeve and asked, "Grandpa, what are Yingdou?"

Old Man Liu rolled a hand-rolled tobacco, sat at the edge of the field, and took a few puffs. "I heard that in the imperial city, there's an office that looks after all the common folks. In that office, there's a gentleman named Ying. Even though he comes from *gere* origins, he's incredibly skilled in farming—they say he's the reincarnation of Shennong!"

"Years ago, when the drought hit and everyone was starving, he prayed to the heavens and brought down this crop, helping common folks survive the hardship. To show their gratitude, people started calling it Yingdou."

The children listened intently, chins in their hands. Soon, the eldest grandson returned with more baskets, and Old Man Liu got busy again with the children.

They worked from morning until evening to harvest the over-one-*mu* field, filling eleven baskets in total, with still plenty piled in the furrows that couldn't be contained.

Old Man Liu's face lit up with joy. The Yingdou really yielded well—now they wouldn't have to worry about going hungry this winter!

*

Ever since Wang Ying developed and distributed potatoes across various regions three years ago, potatoes quickly spread throughout the entire territory of Great Wu due to their high yield and great taste. They had now become a common food on ordinary people's tables.

Potatoes not only resolved the famine but also helped the Wu Dynasty avert a civil war crisis.

Three years earlier, the Prince of Zhennan, who had been planning a rebellion with the support of noble families, fell silent after the drought was resolved in the north. He even quietly sent his eldest son to the capital as a political hostage, begging the Emperor for forgiveness for his past mistakes.

The Prince of Zhennan wasn’t a particularly capable or shrewd man to begin with—otherwise, the noble families wouldn’t have approached him. They had intended to use him as a puppet to control the regime, but he turned out to be rotten mud that couldn't be propped up even against a wall.

Meanwhile, Emperor Wuping warmly welcomed his nephew on the surface, while secretly biding his time and building strength to wipe out the noble families in the south in one fell swoop.

How could he allow potential threats right under his nose?

In the 27th year of Longwu, Emperor Wuping sent 100,000 troops south to suppress bandits—officially to quell rebellion, but in reality, to capture his paternal cousin.

The Prince of Zhennan fled overseas in panic, and the army turned around to thoroughly slaughter the four major families settled in Jinling City.

It was clear that Emperor Wuping harbored deep hatred. From the moment he ascended the throne, he had been constrained by the noble families. For nearly thirty years, he couldn’t touch them—the intricate web of power and his reliance on them forced him to endure, letting the noble families walk all over him.

Now that he had finally resolved this longstanding threat, no matter how future historians would portray him, the next ruler would no longer be controlled!

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Author's Note: Just one more chapter until the main story concludes! If there are any extra stories you’d like to see, feel free to leave a comment below~ P.S. There will be an extra story featuring an alternate universe where ancient Wang Ying travels to the modern world.