Chapter 23: The Miraculous Grain-Producing Artifact—Stunned into Silence

“???”
Chu Feng stared in bewilderment at Lu Su, whose face was flushed red with embarrassment; clearly, he had misunderstood something.
“Zijing, you don’t actually think these seedlings are potatoes, do you?”
“Aren’t they?”
“Of course not,” Chu Feng replied.
After speaking, he glanced into the distance and sighed, “Why hasn’t my father arrived yet? Never mind, I won’t wait for him.”
Without delay, he took up the plow, and under the curious gazes of Lu Su and Liu Ye, he pulled up the seedlings and began digging around the plot.
The moment the earth was turned, everyone looked over.
One after another, a nest of potatoes was revealed—yellow-skinned, round, each one sizable, about as large as an adult’s fist.
Perhaps it was thanks to Chu Feng’s meticulous care.
Having finished digging up the plot, Chu Feng smiled. There were eight potatoes in total, not an overwhelming amount, but certainly not few; the seeds provided by the system had proven reliable.
“Get the scales!” Chu Feng called out in delight.
Soon, all eight potatoes were gathered and weighed—five Han pounds, the scales still tipped high.
Seeing this, Lu Su straightened his back, stroked his beard, and smiled at Liu Ye, as if to say, “Old friend, I wasn’t lying, was I?”
As for Liu Ye, he was stunned.
Just this small plot yielded five pounds of grain?
And it was a crop they had never seen before!
“Excellent, excellent—five pounds from one plot. If I recall correctly, there are twelve hundred plots in an acre, which would mean about six thousand pounds!”
Chu Feng deliberately calculated aloud for Liu Ye’s benefit, though the result surprised even himself; the yield was truly unexpected.
“Six thousand pounds equals fifty bushels. If there are two harvests a year, that’s twelve thousand pounds per acre, a hundred bushels.” Chu Feng shook his head in astonishment as he spoke.
Lu Su: “!!!”
Liu Ye: “!!!”
The two were so shocked they swallowed hard, exchanging glances. Before this, Liu Ye had doubted such a yield was possible, but Chu Feng not only slapped his doubts down—he shattered them completely!
A hundred bushels per acre per year—what did that even mean?
Ordinarily, a large acre would yield only three bushels.
The reason for the Han dynasty’s decline, why the people starved and suffered, was nothing but natural disasters and misfortune—common folk were perpetually hungry. But if this crop existed, how many would still die of hunger in the realm?
It was simply heaven’s blessing!
Chu Feng pretended not to notice their expressions, raising his hand and ordering, “Put the plow to the field, open the plots, dig up the potatoes.”
Immediately, several skilled workers set up the curved-beam plow Chu Feng had developed earlier, and the oxen, guided by the farmers, began to turn the soil from one side, careful to keep a distance so as not to damage the potatoes.
Watching as the soil was not pushed away in a straight line, Liu Ye and Lu Su’s eyes tightened; currently, only the straight plow was commonly used, and its efficiency paled in comparison to the curved-beam plow.
“Master, master, this plow...”

“You mean the curved-beam plow? I developed it recently when I had some spare time; the principle is quite simple!” Chu Feng spoke lightly,
yet in Lu Su and Liu Ye’s eyes, it was nothing short of miraculous.
Just from the curved-beam plow, they could see how much it would benefit agriculture.
“Zijing, why do you look at me that way? Truly, it’s not difficult to make. Give me some time, and I’ll develop a few more interesting tools,”
“In fact, there’s even something that can teach people to read in just ten days or half a month.” Chu Feng chuckled.
His words left them both speechless.
A few more inventions? There were more? And what could possibly teach someone to read in days?
Lu Su gazed at Chu Feng’s back, feeling as if it radiated light. The more he looked, the taller he seemed; his master truly lived up to the saying: able to govern the realm off horseback, able to wield the sword on horseback—he was indeed a wise ruler.
As for Liu Ye, his gaze was more confused. This young man had brought him too many surprises, but what frustrated him most was,
the fellow simply wouldn’t ask him to serve.
Was he really that unqualified? It was maddening!
With many hands, the work went quickly. By dusk, most of the potatoes from several acres had been dug up and weighed—twenty-five thousand pounds,
after deducting a small amount for soil, about as Chu Feng had estimated.
The seed ratio was roughly 1:24; with the next planting and harvest, he would have seeds enough for nearly three hundred thousand urban households. Soon, he feared no shortage of grain.
By the time they returned to the manor, night had fallen.
Chu Feng, exhausted from the day, had little energy left and promptly fell into sleep.
......
In the blink of an eye, morning came.
Chu Feng arranged for Lu Su to accompany Liu Ye, and set out early himself,
so that Lu Su and Liu Ye wandered the grounds together, observing and marveling at everything they saw—such as the thriving wheat and millet in the fields.
Upon inquiry, they learned it was the result of Chu Feng’s insistence on the method of thinning seedlings.
There were also villagers applying unknown substances to the crops, which, they discovered, was Chu Feng’s invention—compost fertilizer.
Moreover, the intersecting water networks between fields caught their eyes; it was Liu Ye’s first time seeing them, and even Lu Su carefully studied them!
With no rain for a long time, these deep, crisscrossing water channels were enough to keep the crops resilient for a while longer—yields might be reduced, but the harvest would not fail.
The villagers’ evaluation of Chu Feng was impressively unanimous, their praise endless, which further won Liu Ye’s admiration.
“Zijing, what do you think he means by all this? He agreed to let you seek me out, but now he barely acknowledges me.” Liu Ye paused, unable to hold back his question.
“Haha, Ziyang, you…”
Lu Su stroked his beard and laughed; Liu Ye had finally reached his limit.
“The Han may survive in name only, but today, though Chu Feng has no foothold, with his deeds, one day he’ll soar to the heavens—he is a wise master.”
Liu Ye’s praise was exceedingly high.
“So, you’re willing to serve him?” Lu Su asked, a bit expectantly.
“Master Chu is brilliant, both civil and martial, a wise ruler worthy of support. But he does not value me, so perhaps our fate is not meant to be,”
Liu Ye sighed, finally voicing what he had kept inside.

“Come, Zijing, accompany me to bid farewell to Master Chu. Though it’s a pity, all I’ve seen and learned these two days was worthwhile.”
“Alas!” Lu Su sighed.
He too could not understand why Chu Feng neglected Liu Ye. If so, why agree to seek him out? Was it merely to embarrass him?
It left Lu Su in a difficult position.
Thus, the two began their return.
Meanwhile,
In the reception hall, Yuan Shu arrived with Liang Gang.
Chu Feng hurried in, calling, “Father, you’ve finally come! I waited all day yesterday and never saw you. You really made me search.”
“Ah!” Yuan Shu chuckled awkwardly.
“Father, you don’t know—yesterday the potatoes had a bumper harvest, six thousand pounds per acre.” Chu Feng said proudly.
“How much? Six thousand pounds per acre?”
Yuan Shu was stunned. Good heavens!
“Father, let these potatoes multiply for a few more years and we’ll never lack grain again.” Chu Feng boasted, then nervously added:
“Father, I heard from Uncle Li that you’re heading north with Yuan Shu?”
“Yes, the situation is critical; the campaign begins mid-month,” Yuan Shu said gravely.
“Father, remember: stick close to Yuan Shu. Wherever he goes, you go. Whatever you do, never stay behind in an isolated city.” Chu Feng warned sincerely.
“Uh! Why?”
Yuan Shu felt uneasy.
“No, nothing—just be careful. When this war ends, it’ll be time to rid ourselves of Yuan Shu and raise the banner of righteousness.”
Chu Feng blurted out, with no context.
After all, history had begun to deviate, and this northern expedition had started two months early; he didn’t know how it would end, but Yuan Shu was incompetent and would likely lose.
This campaign would probably only hasten Yuan Shu’s downfall.
Yuan Shu was bewildered. “End the war and then get rid of Yuan Shu?” Did that mean Yuan Shu would lose? Or would they catch him off guard and finish him after victory?
Something felt off to Yuan Shu.
“Don’t worry, as your father, I’m in charge of supervising the grain supply, not fighting on the front lines.” Yuan Shu reassured him, but the campaign had been prepared for so long—it had to be fought.
“Tsk, tsk, that’s a good job. Father, if you ask me, you should embezzle thirty to fifty thousand bushels of grain as startup capital for our rebellion.”
Chu Feng grinned, already scheming.
“Well…we’ll see about that!” Yuan Shu’s mouth twitched. Goodness, you’re certainly bold.
“By the way, Father, before you leave, try to get me some iron ore. There’s too little iron in Shouchun.” Chu Feng muttered.
Ah! Such a filial son!
He was always thinking of growing stronger—and then getting rid of his own father. He really should have thrown the boy against the wall years ago.