Chapter 61: Roasted Sweet Potatoes

Roasted sweet potatoes, also called roasted earth-melons. The skin is charred and the inside tender, the flavor sweet and fragrant — one big earth-melon can even stand in for a whole meal.

Ever since Chongzhen transmigrated, he had basically eaten nothing but delicacies produced by the Imperial Kitchen — who would ever think to bring him earth-melons to eat?

So Chongzhen simply never recalled that earth-melons already existed in the Ming dynasty; he was still thinking about when to send someone to the Americas to find the stuff.

He immediately ordered the imperial carriage to halt. Paying no mind to his image, Chongzhen strode swiftly toward that stall, utterly ignoring the crowds who knelt row by row all along his path, his eyes fixed solely on those earth-melons roasting with their skins just beginning to char.

In Chongzhen's eyes, this thing was not merely an earth-melon — it was the cornerstone that would steady his realm. If this thing was here, then what about corn? Potatoes? Were all these things already present, just never widely promoted? And wasn't there some formidable figure called Xu Guangqi?

While telling the kneeling stall-owner to rise, Chongzhen picked up an earth-melon resting on the rim of the stove. Though it scalded his hand, he could not bear to drop it. He gently broke it open — sure enough, it was exactly the kind of roasted earth-melon he had eaten in his previous life.

Chongzhen did not mind the grime. He merely blew on it lightly, then stuffed the scorched-yellow, oil-beading heart of the earth-melon straight into his mouth. It truly frightened Wang Cheng'en until his heart leapt into his throat.

The soft, glutinous earth-melon heart melted the moment it entered his mouth, a surge of sweetness racing straight down his gullet and into his belly.

Chongzhen, still heedless of the heat, ate two more mouthfuls before setting the earth-melon in his hand down. He then asked the stall-owner, "Old sir, We ask you — where does this thing come from?"

He followed with praise: "Old sir, your skill is excellent. It is roasted sweet, soft, and glutinous — truly delicious.

We ordinarily never get to eat anything like this."

The stall-owner was about fifty years of age. Originally terrified and trembling, upon hearing Chongzhen's words he promptly grinned, revealing a mouth missing several teeth, and said, "In reply to Your Majesty, this thing is called a foreign tuber.

This humble old man's family has old ties with His Excellency Xu Guangqi. It was he who taught this humble old man how to roast and eat them.

For this trip to the capital, it was all thanks to His Excellency Xu's support that I brought quite a lot of foreign tubers from home, intending to try selling them in the capital. I never expected business would be this good."

Chongzhen silently committed the name Xu Guangqi to memory. It seemed this man truly existed — that made things easy.

He would have the Embroidered Uniform Guard find him, and from now on the man could properly labor like an ox and toil like a horse for him. He then said to the stall-owner, "Old sir, how many more of these foreign tubers do you have?

We will take them all. Someone will accompany you shortly to fetch them and deliver them to the palace."

Only after speaking did he realize he had no silver on his person. He simply had Wei Liangqing pay the bill, which so terrified the stall-owner that he adamantly refused to accept it — until Chongzhen feigned anger and said, "We command you to accept it, so accept it.

The common people's livelihood is hard, and you have always paid taxes and levies for the dynasty — how could We covet your goods?"

Seeing that the stall-owner had finally accepted the money, Chongzhen then ordered Wei Liangqing to take men and follow the stall-owner back to fetch the remaining foreign tubers. Only then did he mount his carriage and return to the palace.

Chongzhen put on his show and ran off, but what he left behind around the Dongyue Temple was a legend of the sage Son of Heaven's benevolent rule and love for the people. No one ever mentioned the original name of the memorial archway before Dongyue Temple again.

Because when the Son of Heaven's imperial carriage arrived, the common people all had to cry out "Long live ten thousand years!", it came to be called the Hail-the-Carriage Archway, which later gradually morphed into the Hujia Archway — a place that still exists in the capital to this day.

Once back in the palace, Chongzhen immediately dispatched men to summon all the ministers of the Grand Secretariat to an audience.

By the time the ministers arrived at the Imperial Study, Chongzhen was willfully gnawing on a piece of earth-melon.

Seeing the Grand Secretaries had all assembled, Chongzhen hurriedly swallowed the earth-melon in his mouth, utterly unconcerned with his image, pointed at the earth-melons, and addressed the Grand Secretaries: "Gentlemen, beloved ministers, have a taste as well.

Consider it Our treat for a meal."

No matter how much the ministers inwardly grumbled at Chongzhen's stinginess, they all gave thanks for the imperial grace before beginning to eat in small, delicate bites.

Chongzhen was in no hurry. Only after the ministers had all finished eating did he ask, "Gentlemen, beloved ministers, what do you make of this thing?"

As Chief Grand Secretary, Wen Tiren spoke first: "Reporting to Your Majesty, this minister has seen this item in books before, and knew only that it could be eaten steamed or boiled, serving as both vegetable and grain. I never imagined that roasted, it could be so delicious as well."

The other Grand Secretaries also expressed their agreement one after another, unanimously concluding that the earth-melon could serve as grain and as vegetable — truly a superior seed bestowed by Heaven upon the Great Ming.

Chongzhen, however, sneered inwardly. After returning to the palace, he had not failed to investigate: this thing had entered the Great Ming as far back as the Wanli reign. It was simply that interests were at stake, so no one had made any effort to promote it widely.

Observing the ministers' reactions, Chongzhen then declared, "In that case, We intend to summon Xu Guangqi to the capital by edict to take charge of promoting these new grains — with Shaanxi and Shanxi as the highest priority.

The harvests in the Shaanxi-Shanxi region these recent years have all been poor; presumably the soil's fertility is nearly exhausted. Better to switch to planting these new grains and see.

Furthermore, the court must also make preparations. Should the promotion of the new grains prove ineffective or should the harvest fail again, we must be ready to provide relief.

We cannot stand by and watch the Shaanxi-Shanxi region fill with refugees. Otherwise, We will have no choice but to emulate Cao Mengde's ruse and use the head of some important minister to pacify the common people."

Under this round of naked threats, Chongzhen felt that these Grand Secretaries

In truth, things like the earth-melon — serving as both vegetable and grain — were by no means few in the Great Ming at present. By this time, corn and potatoes had already entered the Great Ming.

It was just that these things had high yields — and with high yields, how could you go on exploiting those mud-legged peasants? Moreover, people accustomed to eating rice could hardly take potatoes and earth-melons as their staple grain, could they?

As for corn, it was fine boiled into gruel, but if you ground it into flour, you could not make noodles from it, nor could you steam filled buns with it. Steamed into plain buns, it tasted sweet and fragrant at first bite, but after a few more bites it felt coarse and gritty, hard to swallow.

Chongzhen, however, did not think these things would become unpalatable if eaten too often. In the Great Ming right now, no one understood better than he did what kind of wretched state the next few years would bring.

Shanxi and Shaanxi would suffer drought year after year; to say the grain harvest was poor would be flattery — at the time, it was basically a total crop failure, to the point that the horrific tragedy of people exchanging and eating their own children occurred among the common folk.

As for the court, those upright gentlemen — "the court brimming with righteous worthies" — stuffed their own pockets full, so why would they care whether the national treasury had money or not?

When Chongzhen inquired about methods to enrich the national treasury, that was what later led to the abolition of the postal relay stations, which caused the courier lad Li to lose his job and, in a fit of rage, rise up in rebellion.

For common people who had gnawed every scrap of tree bark and grass roots bare, and who in the desperation of starvation even traded their children to eat — unpalatable? That did not exist.

Having a single mouthful to eat was enough to save their lives; who would bother about whether it tasted good or not?

In any case, no matter how you put it, the fact that these high-yield crops were never widely promoted in the Great Ming must be called a regret. Otherwise, as long as the common people could all get enough to eat, so what even if it was the Little Ice Age?

For the common people, as long as the Emperor let them eat their fill and dress warmly, they did not care in the least how the Emperor squandered his fortune or fooled around. In legend, didn't the Emperor plow the fields with a golden hoe? Just look — what a spendthrift!

Uhh... what do you think about me starting a new book for the writing contest?

(End of chapter)