BDSMST -Chapter 190 The Arrival of Potatoes and Corn

In the back courtyard of Jingxin Garden, a special experimental field had been prepared. The plot was surrounded by tall fences, patrolled day and night by members of the village militia. The level of security was more exaggerated than even guarding the treasury.

Jiang Suisui, her belly growing heavier by the day, personally stationed herself at the edge of the field. Before her lay the neatly tilled, soft soil, and on it rested the “divine items” brought back from overseas—potatoes and corn.

Steward Wang and several of the village’s most experienced old farmers stood nearby, pointing and examining the items with expressions of curiosity and confusion.

“Madam… these lumpy, dirt-covered things… can they really be eaten?” one elderly farmer asked, picking up a potato, turning it over in his hands, then sniffing it. “Smells earthy, and it doesn’t look like it could fill a stomach.”

“And this one,” another farmer said, holding a corn cob, “looks like a club. The kernels are golden, but it’s so hard—I’m afraid it would break my teeth.” He pressed a kernel against his fingernail; it barely dented.

They had spent their lives tending wheat, rice, sorghum, and millet—every crop imaginable—but had never seen anything so strange. Bai Ling’er’s tales sounded miraculous, yet in their hearts, they remained skeptical.

Jiang Suisui did not answer their doubts directly. Instead, she had someone fetch a small clay stove and a ceramic pot.

“Hearing about it isn’t as good as seeing it, seeing isn’t as good as tasting it,” she said with a smile. “Today, we’ll try them ourselves.”

She first washed several potatoes, revealing their yellow skin. Without peeling them, she tossed them whole into the pot, added water, covered it, and placed it on the stove to boil.

While waiting, she turned to the corn. She instructed Gu Xuan to fetch a clean stone slab. Then, kernel by kernel, she stripped the corn onto the slab and used a small stone to grind them slowly.

Gu Xuan was fascinated by this new task and eagerly volunteered to do the grinding. Though his strength was small and progress slow, he worked with enthusiasm. Under the stone’s pressure, the golden kernels became a coarse yellow powder, releasing a faint, natural fragrance of grains.

Soon, the ceramic pot began to bubble and simmer, sending a peculiar aroma—earthy yet plant-fresh—into the air. It was not overpowering, but plain and comforting.

After a while, Jiang Suisui lifted the lid. Most of the water had boiled away, and the potato skins had slightly cracked, steaming and fragrant.

She poked one with chopsticks—it pierced effortlessly. She lifted a cooked potato onto a plate, let it cool slightly, and handed it to the elderly farmer who had first expressed doubt.

“Uncle Zhang, try this.”

Zhang hesitated, holding the hot potato carefully, moving it back and forth between hands. He gently peeled a thin layer of skin to reveal a golden, sandy-textured interior. Blowing on it, he cautiously bit a small piece.

He froze at the first taste.

It was a texture he had never experienced: dense yet soft, with a subtle sweetness. No seasoning was needed; the pure, natural flavor melted in his mouth. Warmth spread down his throat, filling his stomach with comforting heat.

“This… this…” Uncle Zhang’s eyes widened, words failing him. He quickly devoured several more bites. In no time, a fist-sized potato was gone. He smacked his lips, still yearning for more as he looked at the remaining ones in the pot.

The other elderly farmers, seeing his reaction, eagerly helped themselves to the remaining potatoes without needing instruction. Soon, the courtyard was filled only with indistinct exclamations of delight.

“Delicious! Truly delicious!”

“Soft and sandy… even better than the finest taro!”

“Just one in the stomach and I already feel half full. This stuff really fills you up!”

Watching them devour the food, Jiang Suisui laughed. She collected the cornmeal that Gu Xuan had ground, added a bit of water, and kneaded it into a yellow dough. Then, spoonful by spoonful, she spread it onto a heated stone slab, shaping it into small corn cakes.

The cakes cooked quickly, turning golden on both sides and releasing an even richer toasted aroma.

“Here, little hero, you try first,” Jiang Suisui said, handing the first cake to Gu Xuan.

Gu Xuan could hardly wait. He took a big bite. The corn cake was slightly coarser than the potatoes, but chewier and more fragrant, carrying a taste like sunlight itself.

“Delicious! Even better than wheat flour cakes!” he exclaimed, his mouth full of golden crumbs.

The elderly farmers tasted it as well and couldn’t stop praising it.

By the end of the tasting, no one doubted these “divine items” anymore. Their skepticism had transformed into fervor and awe. They looked at the potatoes and corn yet to be planted as if they were mountains of gold.

“Madam, how… how do we plant these?” Uncle Zhang asked eagerly, rubbing his hands.

Jiang Suisui pointed to a pile of potatoes and began explaining: “These are the simplest. See these small dimples on their surface? Those are ‘eyes.’ We just need to cut the potatoes into chunks, making sure each piece has one or two eyes. Then dust the cut surfaces with wood ash to prevent rot and bury them directly in the soil.”

“No need for seedlings? No need for transplanting?” The old farmers couldn’t believe their ears.

“No need,” Jiang Suisui replied firmly. “They’ll sprout and grow vines on their own. We only need to mound soil around them a few times as the vines grow, and then wait for the autumn harvest.”

She then pointed to the corn: “It’s the same. Dig a small hole in the ground, drop a seed in, cover it with soil, and water it. It will grow into a tall stalk with several cobs.”

Her words completely upended the farmers’ lifelong farming experience. Could there really be crops this easy to grow?

“Madam,” Uncle Zhang said, looking at Jiang Suisui with deep respect and trust, “we’ll follow your instructions completely. If you tell us to go east, we won’t go west.”

“Good,” Jiang Suisui said without hesitation, immediately assigning tasks. “Uncle Zhang, you lead the team for cutting and planting the potatoes. Remember, every piece must be dusted with wood ash. Uncle Li, you handle the corn seeds. I’ve drawn a diagram for the depth and spacing—follow it exactly.”

She handed them the prepared planting diagrams.

“Today, we’ll plant one acre of potatoes and one acre of corn,” Jiang Suisui said solemnly, looking at everyone. “This is more than just two acres. This is the future hope of the people of Daxia. From tilling to planting, not a single step can go wrong.”

“Yes, Madam!” the elderly farmers replied in unison, their voices loud and full of determination.

Under the sunlight, a group of the most experienced farmers, guided by Jiang Suisui, carefully planted the first batch of potatoes and corn in Woniu Village.

Gu Yan stood a short distance away, quietly watching his wife. Though her large belly made movement difficult, her face shone with a radiant glow—a light of creating history and changing the future. He knew that from this moment onward, the fate of the country would be profoundly transformed, all because of this small courtyard.