Chapter 365: The Saplings Haven't Even Sprouted, and You Dare Say I Cheated?

"I had to cheat to reach this yield, and you—a brand-new variety that's never existed before—can produce even more than me?"

He refused to believe it. Dubinchi absolutely refused to believe it. He wanted a simulated showdown, to expose the other's true colors on the spot.

Admittedly, this was a very risky move, because his own yield was also the result of cheating—the real yield was around 1,200 jin, about the same as the Elf Sapling Team's.

If mishandled, the simulated showdown's yield might end up even lower, and then the elves would overtake him. But Dubinchi would rather hand the championship to the elves than let the Salted Fish Team win—absolutely could not let Chunfeng win.

After spending so many years of effort, so many years of hard work, he had only just barely managed to keep one step ahead of Chunfeng. And now Chunfeng sends a team of students over and expects to trample him down?

Dubinchi clearly regarded the Salted Fish Team as students of Chunfeng Da De, and combined with the conflict that had occurred in the Sunken Lands, he was willing to take the risk just to trample these people down.

And to the audience, this move was simply a once-in-a-lifetime treat, as delightful as wiping a stone and finding a gem inside.

A simulated showdown only happens once in decades. This kind of simulation, which requires collecting over half a month's worth of growth data, is very hard to cheat at—and even if you did cheat, it would be easy to verify.

If next planting season someone bought the seed but couldn't reach that yield, or it didn't match the growth data, wouldn't the cheat be exposed?

So even when Dubinchi cheated, he kept the margin within a reasonable range.

Adding 200 jin on top of a 500-jin seed—that's cheating. Adding 200 jin on top of a 1,200-jin seed—that's reasonable fluctuation. Surely you can't grow a new grain and match my cultivated yield, right?

Because of this, very few people questioned others' yields. The last time something like this happened was apparently thirty years ago, when some greenhorn questioned Chunfeng Da De, held a simulated showdown, and was proven wrong—his reputation suffered, and he eventually vanished without a trace.

So without absolute certainty, raising such a challenge carried enormous risk.

But the audience didn't care about any of that. Their hearts and minds were filled with one single thought: there's a good show to watch!

"The simulated showdown will take place in one hour. Ladies and gentlemen, please exit in an orderly fashion and attend to your personal needs. We'll see you again in one hour. Please exit in an orderly manner—don't push and shove! You bastard in the left stands—push me one more time and I'll throw you out!"

Lei Ting's words were like heavenly music, offering salvation to those audience members caught in a dilemma, and at once they couldn't help but start pushing and shoving.

Lei Ting did his utmost to control the scene, drifting around the venue, stopping those who were pushing and shoving, striving to maintain order. The other magicians also stood ready to prevent stampede accidents.

This was also why no breaks were scheduled in the middle. In this era, with large festivals drawing dense crowds, any collective trip to the latrine could easily turn into a major disaster—and would often cause chaos because people couldn't find the latrine.

Someone might say, just follow the signs, wouldn't that work? But the problem is, the illiteracy rate in this world is as high as ninety-five percent—ninety-five out of every hundred people can't read.

So entering and exiting both required guidance and order-keeping, otherwise accidents were very likely. In this era, any large festival was a major test of an organization's capabilities.

From this perspective, both the Church of Light and the Goddess of Harvest were very well-organized—at the very least, the Harvest Festival had been held year after year without any particularly major accidents.

Taking advantage of the break while everyone was at the latrine, the organizers began setting up the venue.

The so-called simulated showdown was actually just an enlarged version of the simulation array Ange had played with at the academy. The venue's setup was meant to highlight the two competing sides, so there would be a suspended platform.

The two sides couldn't be too far apart either—they had to be able to see each other's expressions, adding interactivity and drama to the competition. Props and skills could also be used in between.

For example, "Sudden Temperature Drop" tested the crop's frost resistance; "Windy Day" tested lodging resistance; "Time Stop" gave teams with "not enough time" more time to discuss strategy.

Of course, these were all used to add interest and test the crops' various traits and resistances, as well as the operators' response capabilities, without affecting balance. Otherwise, just farming—what would be the point of watching?

But at this kind of occasion, all props and skills were banned, leaving only Time Stop.

As time ticked by second by second, the hour passed quickly. The audience returned to their seats, and the competitors from both sides took the stage.

Dubinchi's side had him and five students. Ange's side had only Ange alone—not even the little angel or the little zombie came along—because everyone else farmed as a team.

Take Dubinchi, for example: he was in charge of the overall direction, but many of the detailed tasks were left to the students—pest control, supplemental lighting, top-dressing, and so on. If he did them himself, he might not even be as skilled as the students.

Even Ange left tasks like tilling and fertilizing to the little angel and little zombie. It's just that these two little ones didn't know how to operate the simulation array—if they came up they'd just be in the way, and might even suddenly pull off some big move on Dubinchi.

To avoid the little angel sniping the opponent on the spot, everyone unanimously decided not to bring it. If the little angel wasn't coming, there was even less reason for anyone else to take the stage.

Kailandeil did want to go up, mainly hoping to get a close-up view of Ange's operations. Unfortunately, she was on the Elf Sapling Team—if she took the stage, it would become a two-versus-one.

After Ange stepped onto the stage, he didn't even look at his opponent, just busily and skillfully set things up on his own. Anyone who knew him would recognize this as Ange's character: give him a field to farm, and even if all the gods of Light came, he wouldn't pay them any attention.

But those who didn't know him felt looked down upon—such as Dubinchi's group on the opposite platform.

The bear student cursed and complained: "Teacher, look at him—doesn't even greet you when he sees you. So arrogant. Who knows how Chunfeng teaches his students—no manners at all. You're a senior in the industry, after all."

Dubinchi's face turned ashen, but with so many eyes watching he couldn't blow up. He could only pretend to be magnanimous and said: "Maybe he's just shy. He might even be older than us—a slow reaction is perfectly normal."

His intention was only to mock the other for being slow-witted, but he didn't realize the other might actually be older than him.

The other students also cursed and complained in agreement. The match began amid all this cursing and complaining, but before long, they couldn't curse anymore.

Ange had swapped several simulation arrays with Aobenli, including the one placed in the Palace of Rest. Whenever Ange had nothing to do, he'd reach in and fiddle with it.

No one had conditions as convenient as his, so much so that even the inventor himself wasn't as proficient at fiddling with this array as Ange was.

Moreover, Ange's planting technique was built on a foundation of over a thousand years, and the crop seed was personally cultivated by him—he was familiar with every stage of its changes.

Secondly, the climate of Fallen Longhu limited the yield of Saltwater Magic Rice. The further south the rice went, the higher the yield—Fallen Longhu's temperature was a bit low.

But being low had its benefits—the taste would be better. However, the Seed Grand Competition didn't judge by taste, so Ange simply raised the temperature a bit, adjusting it to the temperature he'd simulated before that produced the highest yield.

Under several hundred-fold acceleration, the Saltwater Magic Rice visibly sprouted and grew, flowered, headed, filled, and bore fruit. Before it even finished, halfway through the match, everyone could clearly see the difference in the crops' growth between the two sides. Dubinchi's side gradually lost the mood to talk.

The simulation completed, the yields were calculated, and a bar chart was displayed. The bar representing Ange's side was significantly taller than Dubinchi's side by a large margin.

This result left the organizers stunned as well. Lei Ting and the academy people began verifying, and after confirming there was no error, they announced the result: "Simulated showdown—winner, Salted Fish Team, per-mu yield…"

At this point, Lei Ting couldn't help but pause: "One thousand seven hundred and fifty jin!"

"Loser, Master Dubinchi's team, per-mu yield, one thousand one hundred and seventy jin."

Seeing this result, Dubinchi said in a daze: "Impossible, impossible—he cheated, he cheated!"

These unwilling words were overheard by Lord Nai Ge Li Si, who scoffed: "Cheated? Pfft. The saplings haven't even sprouted yet. If he really wanted to cheat, the saplings could triple this yield. On the other hand, Dubinchi's yield dropped so much—could it be that he's the one cheating?"

Thinking of this, the bronze dragon fluttered toward Aobenli and started whispering in her ear.

PS: This is from yesterday. It was so painful—I need to adjust.