Chapter 343

Xie Zhiyan smiled, his eyes brighter than the fading stars on the horizon. "Rest assured, Junior Preceptor. The sweet potatoes in those dozens of acres have all survived and are growing exceptionally well.

Elder Lord Wang Shouchen said they will be ready for harvest in less than two months."

Calculating the time, they could be stored in the granary by the end of October. The capital usually saw snow around mid-November, so it was a great fortune to be able to harvest them before the heavy snow. This was all thanks to the Junior Preceptor soaking them in spiritual water.

Therefore, upon learning of the assassination attempt on the Junior Preceptor, he, his imperial father, and his cousin Shen Kang, who had gone to handle errands, were severely reprimanded by his imperial grandmother.

It was said that the divine tablet enshrined in his grandmother's rear hall had long been secretly replaced with a jade statue of the Junior Preceptor, just like his mother's.

He had seen it, and could only say that the jade artisan's carving skills were extraordinary. The statue's demeanor perfectly captured the Junior Preceptor's current appearance—a faint smile on her lips, yet inspiring an unavoidable sense of awe.

Yue Fuguang did not know what Xie Zhiyan was thinking. She nodded, toying with the jade pendant hanging at her waist. "Send someone to harvest the sugar beets on my estate in a few days. The profit share from the sugar production will be divided as we previously agreed."

Thinking of the severe drought in the eighth year of Yuankang, Yue Fuguang did not plan to promote the large-scale cultivation of sugar beets right now, so she added, "Do not expand the planting for the next two years.

We will wait until my master's prophecy regarding the natural disaster has passed."

Xie Zhiyan nodded solemnly. "Everything will be done according to the Junior Preceptor's wishes."

To prepare for the natural disaster two years from now, the Ministry of Works, the Ministry of Revenue, and the Court of Imperial Agriculture were arguably the three busiest government offices.

One was responsible for water conservancy projects, with people all over the country feverishly digging canals and wells to store more water for the future.

One was responsible for financial support, and the other for planning grain cultivation for the next two years.

He looked at the tens of thousands of acres of fertile fields in the distance, deeply curious about exactly how much grain a single acre could produce.

Everyone, from the emperor to the civil and military officials, from the rich to the poor, shared Xie Zhiyan's thoughts. Their hearts felt as though they were being scratched by a cat, anxiously counting every drop of the water clock.

As the sun rose, the Grand Prayer Official waved a vermilion command flag, and the burnt-offering furnace suddenly billowed with the fresh fragrance of pine and cypress.

The Emperor, wearing the twelve-symbol dark and crimson sacrificial robes and a green jade disc at his waist, walked slowly up the dragon-patterned steps to the tune of the "Chapter of Universal Harmony" from the Central Harmony Shao Music.

With every step he took, the ritual official chanted loudly, "Tread the hardships of sowing and reaping, remember the heavy burden of the people's heaven." When he reached the top, the first light of dawn from the east illuminated the bronze grain-patterned tripod before the altar.

At exactly the hour of Si, the first offering was made.

Wang Shouchen, Chief Minister of the Court of Imperial Agriculture, slowly stepped forward holding a modified military shovel. The Emperor took the tool and mimed the action of hoeing and digging the field.

Planted in the large earthen vessel before him were the potatoes transported from Xuanwei Prefecture and the sweet potatoes that Shen Jian had personally dug up from the imperial estate yesterday.

Emperor Mingxi tossed one dug-up potato and one sweet potato into the tripod.

Yun Tianxing, Director of the Directorate of Astronomy, handed freshly brewed sweet wine to Emperor Mingxi. He took the wine goblet and poured the liquid into the octagonal earthen vessel. As the wine seeped into the soil, the observing village elders began to sing the "Song of Harvest" in unison: "In the eighth month we build the threshing floor, in the ninth month we gather the crops..."

The steam from the grand sacrifice of the three beasts mixed with the unique sweet aroma of the sweet potatoes, rising into blue smoke.

Yue Fuguang looked up and watched the Emperor take a gilded wine vessel, sprinkling the fine liquor over the fertile soil in the four directions of east, south, west, and north.

The final offering was the sacrificial text co-written by the Ministry of Rites and the great talents of the Hanlin Academy.

Standing amidst the curling incense smoke, the Emperor unrolled the sacrificial text with its green jade rollers, his voice echoing across the fields: "In the autumn of the fifth year of Yuankang, the year of Bingwu, on the Renzi day of the eighth month, I, the succeeding Son of Heaven and subject, dare to declare to... Possessing the four virtues, joining with heaven and earth, harmonizing with the sun and moon, changing with the four seasons, beautiful in clothing, moderate in food and drink, the dawn is lush, the swan's traces are vast, relying on those above and below, the fields and crops are blessed to be enjoyed, the grand offering of joyful arts, spiritual cattle and spiritual sheep, two households and two males... The high gods are solemn, the four seas are bright and vast, the ghosts and gods are clear, the ghosts and gods are familiar..."

This rhythmic, undulating voice was incredibly hypnotic; Yue Fuguang felt sleepy just listening to it.

She glanced at Xie Zhiyan, whose gaze was equally somewhat vacant, knowing that while the guy's body was here, his soul had flown off to who knows where.

There were quite a few officials and commoners whose minds were wandering just like the two of them. Everyone was curious about the yield in the fields; who had the patience to listen to the Emperor's lengthy nonsense!

When Emperor Mingxi threw the sacrificial text into the furnace to burn, a flock of wild geese suddenly swept across the horizon. The drowsy crowd slowly woke up in the atmosphere created by the firelight.

"Your Majesty, look at the sky!" Yun Tianxing shouted excitedly, pointing upwards. "The flock of geese looks like the character for Abundance! Your Majesty, this is a sign sent down by heaven and earth!"

The sovereign and his subjects looked up at the sky. Yue Fuguang had good eyesight and saw clouds with colorful edges floating in the bright blue sky. The multicolored display looked very auspicious.

Beneath ​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍the colorful clouds, a flock of geese, visibly numbering around a hundred, flew across the sky. The formation passed right over everyone's heads, and looking up from below, it indeed looked very much like the character for harvest.

As the civil and military officials and the common people shouted "Long live the King," their voices shaking the forests and fields, Yue Fuguang was thinking that if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have thought they were actors hired by the Emperor for dramatic effect.

She remembered that when she went to school as a child, the textbooks clearly stated that geese would sometimes fly in the shape of a horizontal line, and sometimes in a V-shape.

How could they form the character for Abundance?

She stared at the departing flock of geese, and the more she looked, the more something felt off. Although they were high and far away, Yue Fuguang was not the same as before; her eyesight was excellent.

Soon, she spotted two show-offs, one in front and one in back, within the flock that had now shifted into a V-shape. Her mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Those two clowns, who else could they be but her Taxue and Wuhen!

These two had really become spirits, putting on a show for her here! Even if she lacked confidence in herself, did she lack confidence in the system's products and the spiritual rain?

Even without this auspicious sign, a bountiful harvest was inevitable.

Xie Zhiyan noticed the change in Yue Fuguang's expression and swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Do not ask what shouldn't be asked; that was his mother's warning to him.

After everyone's excitement subsided, the main event of the day finally arrived: harvesting the grain!

Yue Fuguang followed Emperor Mingxi to the intersection of the sweet potato and corn fields.

She and the Crown Prince now each held a military shovel in their hands. After the Emperor dug the first spadeful, they followed suit and dug forcefully.

The civil and military officials standing behind the three of them, as well as the common people further away, all watched their movements eagerly.

Wang Shouchen and a few others watched as Yue Fuguang thrust the sharp shovel into the soil without even looking. Their hearts leaped into their throats, as if the shovel was not digging into the ground, but stabbing right into their lungs.

Whether it was the hundreds of officials and guards present, the tens of thousands of commoners further away, or the hundreds of thousands stretching for over a dozen miles.

At this moment, it was as if a pause button had been pressed. They maintained a surprisingly unanimous silence, as if terrified that even the slightest noise would scare away the grain buried in the soil.

The silence of these hundreds of thousands of people was all in anticipation of one result.

The soil quality of the imperial estate was good, and the farmers on the estate had cared for it meticulously. The soil was loose, so without much effort from the three of them, a large sweet potato plant was unearthed.

Gasp!

Gasp!

Everyone's burning gazes focused on the root of that half-yellow seedling. Below it hung eight or nine large and small, long and short, shuttle-shaped red tubers. Judging by their color, anyone who saw them would feel that the name red potato was well-deserved.