Chapter 365

If I had to cheat to reach this yield, how could a brand-new variety you've never seen before produce more than me?

No way, Du Binqi absolutely didn't believe it—he wanted to simulate a duel to expose the other side's true nature right then and there.

True, this was a very risky move, because his own yield was also achieved through cheating; his actual yield was around twelve hundred jin, similar to the Elf Seedling Team's.

If he messed up the simulation, the yield might even be lower, allowing the Elf Seedling Team to overtake him—but Du Binqi would rather surrender the championship to the Elf Seedling Team than let the Saltfish Team win, absolutely would not let Chunfeng win.

He had spent years of effort, years of hard work, just barely keeping Chunfeng down—now this man sent a team of students to try to crush him?

Du Binqi clearly mistook the Saltfish Team for students of Chunfeng Da De, and given the conflict that had occurred in the Realm of Despair, he was willing to take the risk to crush them.

To the audience, this move was simply unimaginable luck—like buying a rock and finding a gem inside.

Simulated duels occurred once every few decades; this method, requiring over half a month of growth data collection, was hard to cheat on, and even if cheated, it was easy to verify.

If next planting season someone bought the seed but failed to match this yield or the growth data, wouldn't the fraud be exposed?

So even when cheating, Du Binqi kept the margin within a reasonably plausible range.

Adding two hundred jin to a five-hundred-jin seed is cheating; adding two hundred jin to a twelve-hundred-jin seed is just normal fluctuation—surely you can't expect your new grain to yield as much as my cultivated strain?

Under these circumstances, few ever questioned another's yield. The last time such a thing happened, it seemed to be thirty years ago, when a brash youth questioned Chunfeng Da De, lost the simulated duel, had his reputation ruined, and vanished from sight.

So launching such a challenge without absolute certainty carried great risk.

But the audience didn't care about any of that—they were filled with only one thought: there'd be a show to watch!

"The simulated duel will begin in one hour. Audience, please exit orderly to attend to personal needs, and return in one hour. Do not rush or push. That bastard on the left bleacher—if you squeeze one more time, I'll throw you out!"

Lei Ting's words sounded like heavenly music, offering relief to the audience caught between indecision, and they immediately scrambled to leave.

Lei Ting desperately maintained order, floating around the arena, stopping those pushing and shoving, striving to keep discipline; other mages stood ready to prevent trampling accidents.

This was also why no breaks were scheduled—during large-scale celebrations in this era, any mass restroom rush could easily become a disaster, often triggering chaos due to people being unable to find toilets.

Someone might say, "Just follow the signs!" But the problem is, illiteracy rates here reach ninety-five percent—ninety-five out of every hundred people can't read.

So, guidance and crowd control were essential during entry and exit; otherwise, accidents were inevitable. In this era, any large celebration was a test of an organization's managerial capability.

In this regard, the Church of Light and the Goddess of Harvest were both highly organized—at least the Harvest Festival had been held year after year without any major accidents.

While everyone went to the restroom, the organizers began setting up the arena.

The so-called simulated duel was essentially a scaled-up version of the simulation array An Ge had played with at the academy; the arena setup needed to highlight both sides, so there would be a floating platform.

The two sides couldn't be too far apart—they needed to clearly see each other's expressions, enhancing interaction, competitiveness, and drama, and various props and skills could be used in between.

For example, "sudden temperature drop" to test crop frost resistance; "strong wind" to test lodging resistance; "time pause" to give teams with "limited time" extra moments to strategize.

Of course, all within limits that preserved balance—adding fun to test crop traits, resistances, and operators' adaptability. Otherwise, what's the point of just watching farming?

But in this setting, all props and skills were banned except time pause.

As seconds ticked by, the hour passed quickly; the audience returned to their seats, and both competitors took the stage.

Du Binqi brought himself and five students; An Ge came alone—not even the Angel or the Zombie followed, since everyone else farmed as a team.

For instance, Du Binqi handled the overall direction, but many details—pest control, supplemental lighting, fertilization—were delegated to his students; he might even be less skilled at them than they were.

Even An Ge assigned land clearing and fertilizing to the Angel and the Zombie—but these two couldn't operate the simulation array; they'd just get in the way and might suddenly unleash something huge on Du Binqi.

To prevent the Angel from assassinating the opponent on the spot, everyone agreed not to bring her; if the Angel wasn't brought, no one else had any reason to appear.

Kai Lan Dai Er really wanted to step up—mainly to observe An Ge's technique up close—but she was part of the Elf Seedling Team; if she joined, it would become two-on-one.

After stepping onto the stage, An Ge didn't even glance at his opponent—he calmly and skillfully set up his equipment. Those who knew him understood this was his nature: give him a field to farm, and even the gods of light wouldn't get his attention.

But those unfamiliar with him felt slighted—like Du Binqi and his team on the opposite platform.

Xiong Student grumbled: "Master, look at him—he doesn't even greet you! So arrogant! How did Chunfeng teach his students? No manners at all—you're a senior in this field!"

Du Binqi's face turned ashen, but under public scrutiny, he couldn't lash out, so he feigned magnanimity: "He's probably just young and shy—maybe he's even older than us. Slow reactions are normal."

His intent was merely to mock the opponent's sluggishness, but he failed to realize the other might genuinely be older.

The other students echoed the complaints, and the match began amid grumbling—but soon, they couldn't grumble anymore.

An Ge had switched through several simulation arrays at Aobenli, including one placed in the Palace of Rest; during his free time, he'd reach in and fiddle with it.

No one had such convenient access—so much so that even the array's inventor wasn't as proficient with it as An Ge.

Moreover, An Ge's farming techniques were built on thousands of years of foundation, and the crop strains themselves were cultivated by his own hands—he knew every stage of their development.

Second, the climate of Zhuilong Lake limited the yield of Saltwater Demon Rice; yields increased further south, and Zhuilong Lake's temperature was a bit low.

But low temperature had its benefits—it improved taste. Yet the Grain Festival didn't judge by taste, so An Ge simply raised the temperature to the level he'd previously simulated for maximum yield.

Under hundreds of times acceleration, the Saltwater Demon Rice visibly sprouted, grew, flowered, headed, filled, and fruited—before the simulation even ended, halfway through, everyone clearly saw the difference in crop growth; Du Binqi's side gradually fell silent.

After simulation ended, yield was calculated and displayed as bar graphs—the bar representing An Ge's side was clearly much taller than Du Binqi's.

This result stunned the organizers; Lei Ting and the academy staff began verifying it, and only after confirming no error did they announce: "Simulated duel, winner, Saltfish Team, yield per mu..."

Here, Lei Ting couldn't help pausing: "Seventeen hundred and fifty jin!"

"Loser, Master Du Binqi's Team, yield per mu, eleven hundred and seventy jin."

Seeing this result, Du Binqi spoke in a daze: "Impossible, impossible—he cheated, he cheated!"

Nai Ge Li heard this protest and sneered: "Cheated? Pfft—the seedlings haven't even sprouted yet. If he really cheated, the seedlings could triple this yield. But Du Binqi's yield dropped so much—could it be he's the one cheating?"

Thinking this, the Brass Dragon fluttered toward Aobenli and whispered in her ear.

PS: This was yesterday's. Too painful—I need to adjust.