I started on a deserted island and encountered Ying Zheng, who insisted I was an immortal.

Nanjun, ferry crossing.

On the river, banners obscured the sun.

Prime Minister Li Si stood at the bow of a multi-storied ship, his face solemn.

An army of 300,000 men blockaded the entire Xiangshan waterway, and for miles along the coast, not a trace of cooking fires could be seen.

Li Si personally oversaw the operation, forcibly requisitioning all merchant ships and fishing boats in Nanjun and incorporating them into the search and rescue fleet.

On the riverbank, an army of 100,000 stood ready, waiting for ships to be deployed before they began their search.

Countless Qin soldiers, wielding spears and halberds, drove away all the commoners who tried to approach, keeping them at least a hundred paces away.

"Anyone within a hundred paces will be killed without mercy!"

The cold command echoed in the river breeze.

This search and rescue operation is a top secret of the Qin Dynasty.

Apart from Li Si, Zhao Gao, the head of the Imperial Carriage Office, and the Xuanwu Guards who accompanied them, no one knew that the person who had disappeared on the ship was the supreme First Emperor of the empire.

In the twenty-eighth year of Qin Shi Huang's reign, His Majesty was in the prime of his life, and his power extended throughout the four seas.

A single imperial edict was enough to subdue the entire world.

But now, the sky has fallen.

Zhao Gao stood in the shadow of another boat, gazing at the vast river.

His face did not show the same anxiety as Li Si's.

How fierce the storm, how insignificant human power!

The chances of Your Majesty, Minister Meng, and General Wang surviving are extremely slim.

Zhao Gao stuck out his tongue and licked his slightly chapped lips.

He knew better than anyone that the massive war machine of the Qin Dynasty could function without Meng Yi, without Wang Ben, and even temporarily without Li Si.

The only thing that cannot be done without an emperor.

A country cannot live without a ruler for a day.

The image of the eldest son, Fusu, appeared in Zhao Gao's mind.

He was resolute, benevolent, and farsighted, yet he was close to those pedantic Confucian scholars and repeatedly contradicted His Majesty's national policies.

If Fusu ascends the throne, Zhao Gao, a eunuch who gained favor only because he shared the same surname as His Majesty, Zhao, will likely not have a good end.

He then thought of another person.

Hu Hai.

His Majesty's eighteenth son, and also a student of Zhao Gao.

Naïve, mischievous, yet also the most obedient.

Zhao Gao lowered his eyes, and in a corner where no one was watching, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly.

Perhaps, this towering wave is not a natural disaster.

It was fate.

……

Zhang Ying found it somewhat amusing how these three people seemed so naive and unsophisticated.

It's just a few big lobsters and crabs.

He was so excited that he jumped around on the water's edge like a monkey and almost fell into the sea.

His so-called "living reservoir" was nothing more than a ditch dug and two bamboo fences built using the tides and terrain.

The technical content is approximately zero.

Ying Zheng and Meng Yi were alright; they just squatted by the water, pointing at the creatures in the water like elementary school students visiting an aquarium.

Wang Ben, that simpleton, had already taken off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and insisted on going into the water to catch the biggest lobster.

"Sir! If this dish were cooked with dogwood and Sichuan peppercorns, it would be an unparalleled delicacy!"

As Wang Ben spoke, he drooled.

Zhang Ying ignored him.

The plain porridge I had for breakfast wasn't very filling.

He turned and walked to a patch of sandy soil next to the depression, where some vines grew sparsely.

Zhang Ying casually dug up a patch of soft sand and pulled out a string of [something].

The thing was spindle-shaped, with a reddish-brown skin covered in fresh soil.

He took it to the beach, rinsed it casually, and then took a bite with a "crunch".

Crisp, sweet, and with a unique plant fragrance.

It's very juicy.

"Mmm, delicious."

Wang Ben was outwitting a large crab when his keen nose caught a sweet scent.

He turned his head and saw Zhang Ying happily gnawing on an unknown tuber.

My stomach was instantly whetted.

He gave up the crab, waded ashore, and approached Zhang Ying, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Sir, what are you eating?"

"Sweet potato," Zhang Ying replied indistinctly after taking another big bite.

"sweet potato?"

Wang Ben, Meng Yi, and Ying Zheng all repeated the unfamiliar term at the same time.

"You guys haven't even seen a sweet potato before, have you?" Zhang Ying looked at them with an expression as if they were aliens.

His naive and unsophisticated manner amused him.

Potatoes, rice, refined salt, and now sweet potatoes have been added to the diet.

Everything made the three of them look like they had discovered a new continent.

Ying Zheng and Meng Yi had already decided that their rescue was only a matter of time.

What they cared more about was what kind of earth-shattering changes everything on this island could bring to the Qin Dynasty.

The potatoes and rice they had previously harvested gave them a glimpse of a future where the Qin granaries were overflowing and the iron cavalry would crush the Xiongnu.

That sheet of linen paper showed them the prosperous era of Qin, where literature flourished and government orders were effectively implemented.

With each additional "divine object," their blueprint became clearer, and their anticipation for the future grew even stronger.

Zhang Ying was used to the three burning gazes. He walked to the sandy ground and casually dug a hole.

He pulled several more sweet potatoes of different sizes out of the soil, weighed them in his hand, and tossed them over casually.

Here, have a taste.

Wang Ben caught one of them, which was still covered in fresh soil.

He didn't even look at it, just wiped it haphazardly on his coarse cloth clothes a couple of times, opened his mouth wide and took a bite.

"Click."

A crisp sound.

Wang Ben stopped moving.

A burst of sweet juice exploded in his mouth; it was a pure sweetness that came from the plant itself.

He froze, his chewing movements slowing down.

Zhang Ying shook her head when she saw his silly look.

"This is called a sweet potato, and it keeps well."

He began his presentation in the professional tone of an agricultural professor.

"This is what it tastes like when eaten raw—crisp and sweet."

"If you roast it, it will become soft and sticky, and sweeter. Let me tell you, a two- or three-pound roasted sweet potato will keep you full all day."

"And this stuff can be dried and made into sweet potato fries, which can be stored for a long time without any problem."

Zhang Ying gestured with her chin towards her wooden hut.

"I still have about 200 kilograms of dried sweet potatoes in my house. I eat them as snacks or as emergency food."

He added, "This plant is a treasure trove. The leaves can be stir-fried and eaten, boosting immunity and protecting eyesight. The stems can be used in salads, and the roots can be used as medicine to clear heat and detoxify."

Ying Zheng and Meng Yi listened to every single word.

Although they don't understand terms like "immunity" and "vision," that doesn't stop them from appreciating the value of sweet potatoes.

Ying Zheng also picked one up and took a bite, just like Wang Ben did.

The taste is indeed quite good.

He savored the sweetness in his mouth and asked the question that concerned him most.

"Sir, what is the yield of this crop per acre?"

Zhang Ying was about to dig another one when she heard the question, and replied without looking up.

"Oh, this one? The plot I planted here can yield about 5,000 catties per mu."

"If the land is fertile and managed well, it's not a problem to harvest seven or eight thousand catties per mu."

"The key is that it's not picky about where it's planted and is easy to raise."

Seven or eight thousand catties.

One mu (approximately 0.16 acres) of land.

Wang Ben swayed, and the sweet potato in his mouth suddenly felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He rushed towards the sweet potato field.

He knelt on the ground and frantically dug at the sand with his bare hands.

The dirt seeped into his fingernails, and the rough sand and gravel chafed his palms, drawing blood, but he was completely oblivious.

Soon, he dug a huge sweet potato out of the ground.

He held the sweet potato, covered in mud and his own blood, in his hands as if it were a priceless treasure.

Then, he cried.

A valiant general who had fought his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, a Qin general who had spent his life on the battlefield, was now holding a sweet potato and wailing.

The crying was not tinged with any resentment, but rather filled with boundless ecstasy and trembling.

"A divine object..."

"This is... a divine object that will save the people of my Great Qin!"