DLERB -Chapter 52 A Potato That Shattered the Emperor’s Understanding

Qin Shi Huang stepped forward.

His hand was tightly held by a small one.

Very small.

Very soft.

With a faint warmth.

Qin Shi Huang did not let go.

His towering figure walked at the front, followed by the heavily armored imperial guards. Behind them were Li Si, Wang Jian, and the officials of Xianyang.

Zhao Gao lingered among the attendants beside the imperial carriage like a silent ghost, stumbling along.

His face had already lost all color.

The procession did not enter the city. Instead, it turned toward the fields outside the city.

On both sides of the imperial road, the common people had not dispersed. They simply followed from afar, as if guarding some precious treasure.

Qin Shi Huang’s gaze swept across their faces.

No fear.

No flattery.

Only a complex expression mixed with reverence and stubbornness.

When did his Xianyang change like this?

The procession reached a field.

A bare wooden post stood there.

Traces of rope abrasion still remained on it.

Li Si quickened his steps and came to the emperor’s side, bowing deeply.

“Your Majesty.”

He pointed at the wooden post, his voice carrying an indescribable reverence.

“This place is where the former scholar Chunyu Gong, after seeing a divine object and comprehending the Great Dao, passed away smiling.”

Qin Shi Huang paused slightly.

Chunyu Yue.

That most rigid and law-obsessed old Confucian scholar.

Dead?

Passed away smiling?

In Qin Shi Huang’s mind flashed the accusations from Zhao Gao’s secret report—“framing Confucian scholars, shaking the foundations of the state.”

But Li Si’s expression did not look like he was describing a crime.

Rather, it seemed like he was speaking of a… sacred miracle.

He did not ask further and continued walking.

At that moment—

“Thud!”

A figure rushed out from among the watching crowd and knelt heavily in front of the procession.

An old woman.

Her hair was white, her face covered in wrinkles, and she clutched tightly in her arms a green plant wrapped in cloth.

“Stop her!”

The imperial guard captain shouted sharply, and several soldiers stepped forward at once.

“Stand down.”

Qin Shi Huang’s voice rang out, devoid of emotion.

The soldiers froze in place.

The old woman raised her head, her clouded eyes full of tears.

She looked at the emperor high above, her body trembling violently—but not from fear.

She lifted the plant in her arms as if it were the lives of her entire family.

“Your Majesty!”

she cried hoarsely.

“This commoner… this commoner asks for nothing!”

“I only want to say one thing to you!”

She wept as she repeatedly knocked her forehead against the ground.

“The young prince… the young prince is a living Bodhisattva!”

“He saved my entire family! He saved the lives of my three grandchildren!”

She sobbed uncontrollably.

“In past years… at this time of year, we could only gnaw tree bark, drink thin broth… my three grandchildren were starving, nothing but skin and bones…”

“This year… just because of this!”

She raised the plant high.

“My children… they can all eat their fill! They can all eat their fill, Your Majesty!!”

Her cries struck like a hammer.

“Old Wang’s wife is right!”

“Your Majesty! The young prince is a deity descended to earth!”

“Whoever dares touch this divine crop, we’ll fight them to the death!”

From the crowd, voices rose one after another, merging into a raw, primal force.

Zhao Gao swayed again.

He wanted to speak.

Wanted to say these were all unruly commoners, all paid actors.

But the moment he lifted his head, he met Qin Shi Huang’s gaze.

There was no emotion in that gaze at all.

Zhao Gao swallowed all his words back down.

Qin Shi Huang stepped forward.

Under everyone’s disbelieving eyes, he bent down and personally helped the old woman up.

“Rise.”

His voice remained deep.

“I understand.”

He released her hand, turned around, and continued walking.

From beginning to end, the young prince Ying Ziye simply held his hand quietly.

Finally.

A completely different landscape appeared ahead.

The surrounding land was still barren and yellowish with early spring’s desolation.

But directly in front was an endless stretch of lush green so dense it seemed almost unreal.

That green field, under the morning light, seemed to glow.

Filled with the breath of life.

“Father Emperor, look!”

Ying Ziye let go of his hand and pointed proudly at the field.

“This is my field!”

Qin Shi Huang stood on the edge of the field.

He looked at this “field of hope” and said nothing for a long time.

Li Si bowed deeply toward Qin Shi Huang.

Then he took off his official boots, rolled up his imperial trousers, and stepped barefoot into the damp soil.

The officials accompanying the imperial entourage were completely stunned.

The Great Qin Chancellor was actually personally digging in the fields?

Li Si walked to the center of the farmland and casually selected the most vigorously growing plant.

He did not use any tools.

He bent down and, with his own hands—the very hands that had drafted countless Qin laws—dug directly into the soil around the roots.

With a forceful pull—

“Whoosh—”

As the soil splattered outward, a cluster—no, a huge cluster!

More than a dozen yellowish-brown tubers, each larger than an adult’s fist, were pulled out intact.

They hung from the roots of the green plant like a nest of newborn piglets.

“Hiss—”

Gasps echoed in waves among the officials.

A court agriculture officer who had followed Qin Shi Huang back staggered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief at what he was seeing.

He nearly lost his footing.

“One… one plant… can produce this much?”

Li Si held the heavy “divine object” and walked back to the field edge, kneeling before Qin Shi Huang.

“Your Majesty, please look.”

Qin Shi Huang extended his hand.

He did not take the tubers.

Instead, he lifted the entire plant—roots, soil, everything.

Heavy.

A weight of harvest beyond imagination.

For the first time, Qin Shi Huang’s breathing became slightly rapid.

“Fake!”

A shrill, night-owl-like scream shattered the stunned silence.

Zhao Gao rushed forward in a crawl, pointing at the potatoes in Li Si’s hands like a madman.

“Your Majesty! This is all fake!”

“They must have buried them in advance! It’s an illusion! They’re deceiving you!”

He collapsed to his knees and clutched Qin Shi Huang’s leg tightly.

“Please issue an order, Your Majesty! Dig three chi deep into this land! The truth will surely be exposed!”

All eyes turned toward Zhao Gao.

Those gazes were as if looking at a grotesque, dying madman.

Ying Ziye walked over.

He tilted his small head, looking at the hysterical Zhao Gao with wide, innocent eyes.

Then he asked clearly,

“Then Uncle Zhao Gao.”

“Why don’t you pick one yourself and dig it up?”

Zhao Gao’s screams stopped abruptly.

He froze completely.

Ying Ziye pointed at the vast field again.

“There are so many here. Pick any one you like.”

“If you can’t dig it out, I… I’ll admit to Father Emperor that I was lying. How about that?”

Zhao Gao’s face instantly turned the color of liver.

To dig or not to dig?

If he dug and it was real, he would personally be confirming this “miracle.”

If he didn’t, it would prove guilt—fear, deception, and weakness.

A dead end.

Qin Shi Huang looked down at Zhao Gao, who was clinging to his leg in a frenzy.

He said nothing.

He simply lifted his foot.

And with a light flick—

Zhao Gao’s body was kicked aside like a torn sack.

Then—

Under everyone’s horrified gaze, the Emperor of Great Qin, the supreme ruler of the world, stepped down into the field.

His black cloud boots embroidered with dragon patterns sank into the moist soil.

The hem of his imperial robe was stained with specks of mud.

He did not care.

Like a king inspecting his own domain, he walked into the center of the field.

He stopped.

Casually pointed at a seemingly ordinary potato plant near his feet.

And gave a single command to a personal guard.

“Dig.”

The guard did not hesitate.

He drew a bronze short sword, knelt, and carefully began digging.

Everyone held their breath.

Moments later, the guard stopped. His body trembled violently with shock as he looked up.

“Your Majesty…”

“I… I’ve dug it up…”

The same plant.

The same massive cluster.

The same heavy, more-than-a-dozen tubers.

Ironclad proof.

Qin Shi Huang squatted down.

He personally picked up one potato still covered in damp soil.

Then he stood.

Holding it, he turned.

His gaze fell on the small, solitary figure in the distance.

On his face—deep and unreadable—anger, shock, and disbelief intertwined, eventually condensing into an extreme complexity.

He stared into Ying Ziye’s eyes.

For a long time.

So long that it felt like time itself had stopped.

Then Qin Shi Huang spoke slowly.

His voice was not loud, but it suppressed all surrounding noise.

“This thing… was really obtained from your dream?”

Ying Ziye nodded firmly.

Qin Shi Huang fell silent.

His grip tightened slightly around the potato in his hand.

“…Then what else did the immortals say?”