Chapter 22: Eat Potatoes! Plant Potatoes!

The two teams that ultimately won had captains Bu La and Zhang Quan, respectively.

This was unexpected for him; the members of Bu La's team were all soldiers from a previous courtyard and from nearby courtyards, who also knew each other.

It was clear that for that pork meal, those big fellows were fighting desperately.

Ultimately, Jiang Anguo altered the game rules: at twelve o'clock, the team with the most remaining members would be the final winner; otherwise the competition might not finish by the afternoon.

The victors were Zhang Quan's team; when Jiang Anguo announced the win, they jumped up in joy.

But Bu La's team was clearly unwilling to accept it.

"Congratulations to our winners; as for the losers, don't be discouraged, I won't starve you. See the potatoes over there? That's your lunch," Jiang Anguo shouted.

"Another good news: although there's no training this afternoon, everyone must go with me to plant potatoes," Jiang Anguo said.

"Battalion Commander, why do we have to plant potatoes?" Zhang Quan asked.

"Why? Look at you all—aside from eating, what else can you do? Sitting and eating while the mountain empties. With so much land, why not grow something yourselves? You know what Cao Cao did? He implemented state farming, so we'll do the same." State farming wasn't originally proposed by Cao Cao; he just refined it.

Jiang Anguo wasn't really sustaining these people with those potatoes; in fact, the food was so cheap that they could be supported entirely by the system.

In reality, state farming can boost team cooperation and also train the body; these people couldn't handle high intensity at first, but after eating their fill and working the fields, this training method turned out to be pretty good.

"Alright, it's already noon, we can start the meal. After lunch, rest for two hours, then work together in the afternoon; I have other tasks tonight."

"Sir, there are still tasks?"

"Sir, maybe just forget it."

Jiang Anguo glared, "Fine, whoever says fine, step up. I'll make sure you don't even eat the potatoes. Fine, that's it—starve to death."

With Jiang Anguo's words, those who had just jumped up fell silent.

This team currently lacks cohesion; moreover, there are too many veterans, and they're battlefield veterans, so it's unclear whether they are deserters or stragglers.

Deserters and stragglers are different.

Jiang Anguo had Zhang Quan command the team, dividing them into four rows of twenty each, which would speed up serving the food; as for the potatoes over there, each person could receive three potatoes, weighing about a pound.

When the potatoes were boiled, salt was added, so they still had some flavor.

How enviable—look at yourself eating potatoes, then look at others: Red-braised Pork with potatoes, fifty jin of pork and a hundred jin of potatoes together.

Even if everyone gets a bowl filled to the brim, there's still plenty; anyway, today we can eat our fill.

The wounded aren't much better; they're all eating potatoes. Those who are lying down get porridge; they can't move to eat meat, so porridge is better.

As long as they're full, that's enough. Right now they can't even finish basic training; most are limping, or have arm injuries that need treatment first.

The afternoon will be much simpler: everyone works together. These lazy folks have been idling; we must get them moving.

As for slackers, sorry, they won't get anything to eat at night. Dinner is simple: big steamed buns, which Jiang Anguo thinks are huge—about half the size of a head.

Anyone caught slacking is dragged out and gets no dinner; you can slack once, but when you're hungry you won't slack again.

Likewise, Jiang Anguo will supervise; the captains of each squad must also act as supervisors and monitor each other.

Jiang Anguo used only a minor measure to subdue those who wanted to slack; they were truly terrified by hunger—sometimes hunger kept them from sleeping. Now that they finally can eat their fill, they naturally work desperately.

Now large tracts of land lie empty; if none are empty, they'll cut trees to plant potatoes.

He used points to exchange for many logging and farming tools.

In any case, any place suitable for planting was put to use by him.

Jiang Anguo and Xiao Si were the most relaxed; "Xiao Si, you'll supervise—take this whip, and anyone who slacks gets a lash."

Everyone still feared the young Xiao Si; he was a third‑rank official at the Prime Minister's gate, and Xiao Si was the Battalion Commander's subordinate, so people naturally were scared.

Up to now, another 225 people have joined Jiang Anguo's team, providing him with 225 points.

It's truly wonderful.

His points today total 1,003; during this lunch break he spent 40 points, having previously had five hundred points, he used some to exchange for Li Qing and Lei Ao, leaving a little over 280 points.

It seems he'll need to spend another 40 points tonight; this is the daily ration. To train elite soldiers, being well‑fed is crucial; otherwise shoulders can't bear weight, legs go weak after a few steps, and that's deadly.

This is for the battlefield, so one must be willing to invest.

In fact, 40 points can exchange for 2,000 jin of food, which can't possibly be finished; even at noon there were many potatoes left.

There's no need to worry about waste; these soldiers eat so cleanly they'd lick the bowl dry.

Today is already much better; although anxious, they know how to line up for food.

After finally working for three hours, Jiang Anguo had everyone gather their hoes together.

"Everyone has worked hard today; after dinner, anyone who can read and write should report to me, I need to register you," Jiang Anguo said.

"Sir, will we be able to eat our fill tonight?"

"Yes, sir, I can already smell the aroma."

"With your appetites, you could bankrupt me; I'm not even talking about being full—each person gets two plain white buns, go fetch them yourselves."

After the food was distributed, Meng Fanle collapsed, lying limp on the ground.

Jiang Anguo walked over, patted Meng Fanle's shoulder, "These three days, Meng Fanle, push through a bit more; after Li Qing and Lei Ao finish treating the seriously wounded, I'll have them clean your wound right away."

The exhausted Meng Fanle's eyes suddenly brightened, "Really, Battalion Commander."

"You're already calling me Battalion Commander; I can't lie to you. I'll send Xiao Zui two buns shortly—no need for me to teach you that. Don't look down on them; we're all hard‑luck people." Jiang Anguo's final words were meant for Meng Fanle and also for himself.

"Understood, sir." Meng Fanle replied, though he hadn't actually heard what was said at the end.

Jiang Anguo also took a bun, which had a faint sweet taste; he was still hungry.

Leaning against a big tree, a veterinarian came over, holding a bowl, "Sir, have some water."

Jiang Anguo took the veterinarian's bowl and gulped, "Veterinarian, go get two buns as well."

"Sir, I've already eaten; I'm old now and can't eat much." The veterinarian didn't mind and sat directly opposite Jiang Anguo.

The veterinarian hadn't eaten so full in a long time; he could barely remember the last time he ate this much.

Probably back when his mother was still alive!