The night was as dark as ink.
The cold wind was bone-piercing.
Three days had passed.
The imperial hunting grounds outside Xianyang City had completely transformed.
The Confucian scholars who once debated lofty principles had now become mud-covered figures in the fields.
Blisters on their hands had burst, healed, and burst again.
Blood and mud mixed together, forming dark scabs.
Their faces were tanned like charcoal.
Their lips were cracked and peeling.
They mechanically swung their hoes, turning the cold earth beneath their feet.
No one shouted slogans anymore.
No one spoke of “dying for remonstrance.”
Their eyes were empty and numb.
Only the dull sound of hoes striking the soil remained.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
In the distance, bonfires burned brightly on the high platform.
The imperial guards sat around the fire, eating roasted potatoes and drinking hot soup in large bites.
That domineering aroma, mixed with the fragrance of meat broth, clawed at every scholar’s stomach like an invisible hand.
Gurgle… gurgle…
The sound of hunger echoed everywhere.
A young scholar finally couldn’t hold on anymore—his eyes rolled back and he collapsed straight onto the ground.
The others only glanced at him blankly.
Then continued swinging their hoes.
One fell, and soon two imperial guards came to drag him away like a dead dog.
No one knew where he was taken.
And no one dared ask.
Late at night.
Two figures appeared silently at the edge of the field.
It was Emperor Ying Zheng and Ying Ziye.
Ying Zheng was dressed in plain clothes, wearing an expression of amused curiosity.
Ying Ziye tugged at his sleeve and pointed in one direction with his small finger.
“Father Emperor, look.”
He lowered his voice, like a child who had discovered a new toy.
“The show is about to begin.”
Ying Zheng followed his gaze.
At the corner of the field.
A thin figure was curled up in the shadows, facing away from everyone.
His body trembled slightly.
As if doing something shameful, he kept nervously glancing around.
Ying Ziye made a gesture toward Qinglong nearby.
Qinglong understood and quietly stepped back.
Pa!
More than a dozen torches ignited at once.
Light instantly dispelled the darkness.
And illuminated that hidden corner.
It was Kong Fu!
The leader of the Confucians was now kneeling on the ground.
His face was covered in soot.
In his hand, he tightly clutched half of a blackened object.
A roasted potato!
His mouth was stuffed full, cheeks bulging as he struggled to chew.
The moment the firelight appeared—
He froze completely.
He forgot to swallow.
He forgot to hide the potato.
He stood there like a statue struck by lightning, frozen in that absurd pose.
Ying Ziye walked over with his short little steps.
Behind him was Ying Zheng, smiling faintly with amusement.
All the scholars in the field also stopped what they were doing.
They watched the scene with mixed expressions—shock, disdain, confusion.
Ying Ziye stood before Kong Fu, looking down at him.
“Scholar Kong.”
His voice was not loud, but it reached everyone clearly.
“You said you would rather starve to death than touch this ‘demonic object.’”
Ying Ziye repeated Kong Fu’s words from three days ago.
“If I recall correctly?”
Kong Fu’s body trembled violently.
His hand loosened.
The half-eaten potato fell into the mud.
He tried to explain.
“I… I…”
But as soon as he opened his mouth, mashed potato mixed with saliva spilled from the corner of his lips.
A miserable sight.
Pfft—
A young scholar couldn’t hold back and laughed.
That single laugh pierced Kong Fu like a needle.
His face instantly turned the color of pig liver.
“Scholar Kong, no need to be nervous.”
Ying Ziye bent down and picked up the potato from the ground.
He even wiped off the dirt with his sleeve.
Then he held it out in front of Kong Fu.
“How does it taste?”
Kong Fu’s lips trembled.
Shame, anger, and an indescribable emotion churned in his chest.
He wanted to die.
“Your… Your Majesty…”
His voice was hoarse like a broken gong.
“This thing… is soft, fragrant, and sweet.”
“…Very good.”
“And…”
He raised his head, his old cloudy eyes showing the first trace of confusion.
“One single piece is enough to fill the stomach.”
He stared at Ying Ziye and muttered: “If all the common people in the world had this…”
“Who would ever starve to death?”
Ying Ziye smiled.
He straightened up and looked around.
“Did you hear that?”
“This is the thing you were willing to starve yourselves to oppose!”
“This is the so-called ‘demonic object’ that you claim would ruin Great Qin’s destiny!”
The scholars all lowered their heads.
Their faces burned with shame.
Ying Ziye clapped his small hands.
“Alright, alright.”
“We’ve eaten, we’ve watched the show.”
“It’s time to get serious!”
He walked into the center of the field.
From his chest, he took out a small jade bottle that no one had ever seen before.
He opened it and gently dripped a few drops of crystal-clear liquid onto the soil.
Then he joined his hands, closed his eyes, and began chanting softly.
“Heaven and earth spirits, aid Great Qin!”
“May the winds and rains be favorable, and the harvest abundant!”
After finishing, he opened his eyes.
The next moment—
A miracle occurred.
Everyone saw it.
The freshly sprouted potato seedlings began to grow at an unimaginable, explosive speed!
The vines stretched outward.
The leaves turned from tender green to deep green.
Then, gradually, they withered into yellow.
It was as if spring and autumn had been compressed into a single instant.
“This… this is…”
“A… a miracle!”
Everyone was terrified by this scene that defied all natural logic.
They fell to their knees and frantically kowtowed toward the land.
Ying Ziye waved his little hand.
“Dig!”
A nearby scholar, kicked by an imperial guard, snapped back to awareness.
Trembling, he picked up a hoe.
He closed his eyes, too afraid to look.
With all his strength, he struck down hard!
Thud!
A dull impact.
He felt the hoe hit something hard.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
He saw it.
In the overturned soil beneath the hoe—
A cluster!
A full cluster of golden, round objects had been unearthed!
Each one was as large as a strong man’s fist!
“Ah…”
He cried out and collapsed backward onto the ground.
The hoe slipped from his hands.
“Dig! All of you, dig!”
Ying Ziye’s voice rang out again.
The scholars went insane and rushed into the field.
They threw away their hoes and began digging with their bare hands!
“I found some! I found some too!”
“Oh my god! So many! This one cluster has seven or eight!”
“A divine object! This is truly a divine object!”
Cries of shock rose one after another.
Very soon.
The one-acre experimental field was completely dug up.
And beside the field, a small mountain had formed.
A mountain made entirely of huge potatoes!
Ying Zheng looked at the potato mountain, his breathing becoming rapid.
He suddenly turned and shouted at Li Si:
“Li Si!”
“Weigh it!”
Li Si scrambled forward on his hands and knees.
He brought out the largest scale from the Qin imperial granary.
Several imperial guards carried sacks of potatoes, placing them onto the scale one by one.
The beam of the scale rose high into the air.
Li Si’s hands trembled as he added weights onto the counterbalance.
One piece.
Two pieces.
Ten pieces!
And still—the beam did not move.
Sweat covered Li Si’s forehead.
All the weights he brought had been used up!
“Go! Use the soldiers’ armor as weights!” Ying Ziye roared.
Soon.
Pieces of heavy iron armor were placed onto the scale.
Finally—
The high-raised beam slowly began to descend.
It leveled out.
It was balanced!
Li Si stared at the beam, then at the weights and armor.
He swallowed hard.
Then turned toward Ying Zheng.
With a thud, he dropped to his knees.
His voice was trembling, almost breaking:
“Your… Your Majesty!”
“One mu of land!”
“It yields…”
He raised his head and shouted with all his strength:
“Three thousand jin!!!”
“THREE THOUSAND JIN!!!”
BOOM!
Three thousand jin!
The number struck like heavenly thunder, crashing into everyone’s skulls!
The entire world fell silent.
All the scholars stared blankly at the mountain of potatoes.
Their minds went completely empty.
The best farmland of Great Qin, in the best year, could produce at most three hundred jin per mu!
But this thing—this single mu—produced three thousand!
Ten times!
A full ten times!
Clatter.
Someone’s hoe slipped from their hand and fell.
Then another. Then another.
Clang. Clang. Clang…
The sound spread in waves.
Finally—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Three thousand scholars collapsed to their knees as if all strength had been drained from them.
They bowed toward the potato mountain, toward the eight-year-old child, and toward the emperor standing beside him.
Prostrating completely.
This time, there was no resistance left at all.
Kong Fu knelt before the mountain of potatoes.
He looked at those “divine objects” emitting the fragrance of earth.
Suddenly, he laughed.
“Heh… hehehe…”
“Hahahahahahaha…”
As he laughed, tears streamed down his face.
He grabbed a potato with his dry hands and held it tightly against his chest.
“Three thousand jin…”
“One mu… three thousand jin…”
He cried and laughed, like a madman.
“If this exists… who in the world would ever starve?”
“If this exists… where would there be rebels and refugees?”
“I… I studied Confucian classics my whole life…”
Spurt!
He suddenly raised his head and slammed it violently against the ground.
“I am the sinner of Great Qin!”
“I… am the true traitor of the nation!”
Ying Zheng ignored the crazed Kong Fu.
He strode over to Ying Ziye and lifted him high into the air!
“Pass down my decree!”
Ying Zheng’s voice rang like a great bell through the night sky.
“Ninth Prince Ying Ziye is intelligent and perceptive, and has brought forth a national treasure!”
“He is hereby titled: ‘Auspicious Blessing of Great Qin!’”
“This divine crop shall be named ‘Auspicious Grain’ and become the foundation of Great Qin for ten thousand generations!”
Amid the tsunami-like cries of “Long live the Emperor!”
No one noticed—
In the corner of the crowd.
A few figures dressed as servants exchanged glances, their eyes flickering.
Then they lowered their heads, quietly retreating amid the chaos.
Soon, they disappeared into the endless night.
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