Chapter 142

Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhu Di, and Zhu Qi all witnessed the entire process of this potato plant, grown deep within the palace, being pulled up by its roots.

Zhu Youjian, covered in mud from digging, could not help but stand frozen in place.

"Great-Grandfather, are the fruits these clumps of dirt down here?"

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded slightly.

"Yes, yes!"

"How many are down there?"

Zhu Youjian lay on the ground and began counting carefully.

All the Eunuchs and maids in the entire Forbidden City were shocked by the scene before them.

What exactly was this thing that made the Son of Heaven of Great Ming, disregarding his imperial dignity, kneel in the field and dig?

"One, two, three... ten!"

"Great-Grandfather, there are ten in total!"

"Each one weighs at least a jin! No wonder this thing is so easy to grow; with such large roots and stems, it would be hard for it to die even if it wanted to!"

Looking at the potato before him.

Tears from Zhu Youjian's eyes could not help but fall with a "plop, plop."

"The people of Great Ming are saved."

"The people of Great Ming are saved!"

In the final years of Ming.

What is the most urgent matter?

A lack of silver?

Natural disasters?

Plague?

None of these.

The most important thing is that there is truly not much grain left on the market!

Even though Zhu Youjian went to great trouble to raid the families, the grain obtained from the feudal princes and the hundred officials was mostly old grain.

Some of it had already been stored for several years.

Even the households of the dukes and ministers were like this.

How much more so for the common people?

But with this thing before our eyes, once it is promoted.

The grain crisis of Great Ming could be alleviated in an instant.

As long as there is enough grain.

What Li Zicheng.

What Later Jin.

A Great Ming that has recovered its vitality would, it seems, truly be able to pacify them in just a few years.

Every time he thought of this, Zhu Youjian's tears would fall uncontrollably.

In the chat group, Zhu Yuanzhang quietly watched Zhu Youjian kneeling on the ground.

His heart was filled with a mixture of emotions.

The few people in the chat group.

Only Zhu Yuanzhang understood Zhu Youjian's feelings.

Whether it was Zhu Di or Zhu Qi.

When they were born, they were raised on fine silk and rich food; even when Zhu Di was born, the southern half of Jiangnan had long fallen into the hands of the Han people, and the people everywhere had already resumed production.

Throughout the entire Ming dynasty, only Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Youjian truly experienced the chaotic times of a world in great disorder.

This is also why Zhu Yuanzhang always paid special attention to this descendant.

Zhu Yuanzhang knew that Zhu Youjian was truly trying to be a good Emperor.

"The people of Great Ming are blessed."

After a long silence.

Zhu Youjian slowly climbed up from the ground.

Looking at Wang Chengen behind him, he said.

"Chengen."

"Your servant is here."

"You must immediately send people to the provinces of Min and Zhe to gather all of this thing that can be collected, and then send it directly to the three provinces of Shaan-Gan, Zhili, and Zhongyuan."

"Remember, you must not miss the farming season for next year!"

"You must distribute these grain seeds to the people within the shortest possible time!"

Wang Chengen, standing nearby, also witnessed the entire process of Zhu Youjian pulling up this potato plant by its roots.

Knowing this matter was of great consequence.

He dared not delay even the slightest bit and immediately said.

"Your servant accepts the decree; I will send people south at once!"

"Additionally, investigate and prepare samples of this corn and sweet potato as well, preparing to promote them throughout the world."

After giving the orders.

Zhu Youjian looked at the potato in his hand and said with a sigh.

"It must be fast... even faster, so that no more people starve to death."

"Enough of my Great Ming's people have already died!"

Since the Great Explosion at Wanggongchang in the seventh year of Tianqi, the calamities of the Great Ming have hardly ever ceased.

Floods, droughts, locust plagues, and epidemics seemed to perform in a rival show, one side finishing its act as the other took the stage; after years of natural disasters came war.

To this day, north of the Yangtze River, the common people are few indeed.

Wang Chengen knelt on the ground, kowtowed, then immediately rushed to the Eastern Depot to prepare personnel for a southward journey to Min and Zhejiang.

And on the other side.

Inside the Qianqing Palace.

Jiang Huan walked up to the hall.

Looking at Zhu Yuanzhang, he asked in a low voice,

"Your Majesty, exactly how is Lord Su?"

Hearing Jiang Huan's question,

Zhu Yuanzhang fell silent.

A trace of murderous intent suddenly appeared on his face.

If not for Su Qiao,

this grain seed would likely have existed already during the Hongwu era.

Who would have thought that this boy Su Qiao would have stewed the whole pot into ruin?

Thinking of this, Zhu Yuanzhang could not help but recall his own parents who starved to death, and the corpses of the starving he had seen along the way during the many years since he raised his army.

Seeing Old Zhu's grotesque face,

Zhu Youjian, separated by the chat group, could not help but shiver.

Seeing that Zhu Yuanzhang seemed about to order Su Qiao's execution,

Zhu Youjian hurriedly said,

"Great-Grandfather, restrain your anger; this son believes Su Qiao's crimes do not warrant death."

Hearing Zhu Youjian's words, Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes narrowed into a single line.

"What?"

"Great-Grandfather, forgive this son for speaking bluntly."

"Although Su Qiao has been frequently insolent in speech since entering the court,"

"many of Su Qiao's strategies have produced remarkable effects."

"Although in our Zhu family's battle at Xingshan... if not for Su Qiao, Huang Taiji would already have been at the city gates."

Listening to Zhu Youjian's words,

Zhu Yuanzhang's thoughts finally managed to calm down.