The beginning of the story of the Tang Dynasty's Imperial Son-in-Law: A rhinoceros comes knocki

Chapter 117 Such a prodigy

Fang Xuanling took a deep breath, suppressed the shock in his heart, and sat up straight again.

"I have lost my composure," he said.

"Don't lose your composure." Li Shimin waved his hand. "This is the first time I've heard him say such things; he's even more pathetic than you."

Fang Xuanling recalled the situation just now and the shock he felt at that moment, and suddenly felt somewhat ashamed.

After all, he was the prime minister.

"Xuanling." Li Shimin's smile faded, and his expression turned serious. "I'm telling you this not so you can sigh."

The new rice will be ready for harvest in four or five days. You should select two people from the Ministry of Agriculture, who should be knowledgeable about farming, preferably experienced farmers who have worked in the fields for many years.

They were sent to Lantian to learn the entire process, from harvesting, drying, and threshing to seed selection and storage.

Fang Xuanling immediately stood up, bowed, and said, "Your subject understands."

"There's one more thing." Li Shimin picked up his teacup, then put it down again. "Don't tell that young man my identity."

All he knew was that I was surnamed Li and came from a wealthy family with some resources.

I don't want him to change his ways after knowing the truth.

Fang Xuanling nodded. He understood His Majesty's thoughts.

An emperor has too few places where he can hear the truth.

That farm is probably one of the few places where His Majesty can hear the truth.

"As for that young man," Li Shimin paused, "you know it yourself. As the prime minister, you don't need me to teach you who to use and how to use them."

"Your Majesty, I understand." Fang Xuanling bowed. "I will take care of it immediately."

He left the imperial study, stood under the eaves, and closed his eyes for a while.

The autumn morning breeze blew from the direction of Zhongnan Mountain, carrying the fresh scent of grass and trees. He took a deep breath and went over what His Majesty had just said in his mind.

Rice cultivation, chicken raising, pig raising, winemaking, practicing medicine, and those poems, those words.

"If only I could have ten thousand mansions!" "A masterpiece is born of nature, a stroke of genius is often the result of chance."

These things went through his mind one by one.

How can there be such a genius in this world?

He shook his head; even now, he still couldn't quite believe it.

The most important thing is that, as a prime minister, he didn't even know this, and His Majesty had to tell him personally.

To be honest, it was somewhat of a dereliction of duty.

The carriage stopped at the entrance of the government hall. Fang Xuanling opened his eyes and got out of the carriage.

He went into the signing room, spread out the paper, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, wrote two lines, and then put the brush down.

He summoned the clerk: "Go to the Ministry of Agriculture and invite Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng here."

The clerk responded and left.

When Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng arrived at the Political Affairs Hall, it was already afternoon.

The two men were wearing worn-out official robes, with patches in places that couldn't be seen, and they were slightly faded from washing.

They were helping each other dust off their collars before entering the room.

"Your humble servant greets Chancellor Fang." The two bowed in unison.

Fang Xuanling put down his pen and looked at the two old officials whose hair was already a little gray.

"sit."

The two exchanged a glance and didn't dare to sit down.

"To offer a seat is to offer a seat." Fang Xuanling lightly touched the paper with the tip of his pen, without raising his gaze.

Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng then stepped forward—to their left and right were two low beds, covered with blue carpets, nearly half the height of the wide couch in the main seat.

The two of them turned to their sides and knelt down properly on the edge of the bed, their hands on their knees, their backs straight, taking up only 30% of the bed surface.

"There is a farm in Lantian County, and the owner's surname is Wang."

Fang Xuanling got straight to the point: "He planted a new type of rice there, which could yield three shi per mu."

Go and learn the entire method of farming and storage, then come back and write it down as regulations.

Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng raised their heads at the same time, their eyes brightening for a moment before dimming again.

They had spent most of their lives at the Sinong Temple and were used to hearing all sorts of news about "new rice" and "improved varieties," most of which were exaggerated.

"Prime Minister Fang," Zhao Youtian asked cautiously, "is this yield of three shi per mu—really?"

"His Majesty saw it with his own eyes," Fang Xuanling said.

Zhao Youtian opened his mouth slightly, but no words came out. Since His Majesty has said so, it must be true.

Wang Laogeng rubbed his hands on his knees; his knuckles were thick, and his fingernails were still covered in mud that couldn't be washed off.

"When you arrive at the farm, remember not to mention that you are from the Ministry of Agriculture."

Fang Xuanling instructed, "Just say that you are servants of Master Li, and that Master Li deliberately arranged for you to learn how to grow rice."

"Then answer whatever the lord asks. Go to the fields when you're supposed to be working, and don't put on airs like an official, do you hear me?"

Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng exchanged a glance. Although they had doubts, they dared not ask any further questions and bowed in unison: "Yes! Your humble servant understands."

"Go prepare today, no, go prepare now, and set off as soon as you're ready." Fang Xuanling stood up. "Remember, be well prepared. You must arrive by the 15th. If you don't learn it, you're not allowed to come back."

The two left the government hall, went back to pack their belongings, took their horses, and headed towards Lantian.

After making the arrangements, Fang Xuanling straightened his clothes and said to the coachman, "To the Duke of Lu's residence."

The coachman responded and whipped the horse to urge it on.

When the carriage came to a stop in front of the Duke of Lu's mansion, Cheng Yaojin was busy in the vegetable garden in the back garden.

It's time to plant radishes in autumn. He squatted at the edge of the field, holding a hoe in one hand and radish seeds in the other, pressing them into the soil one by one.

"Lord Duke! Minister Fang is here!" The gatekeeper ran up, panting.

Cheng Yaojin didn't stop what he was doing. After pressing out the last radish seed, he patted the dirt off his hands and stood up.

"Xuanling? What are you doing here at this hour instead of on duty at the Hall of State Affairs?"

When he arrived at the front hall, Fang Xuanling was already sitting in the guest seat drinking tea. The tea was freshly brewed, but Fang Xuanling held it in his hand without taking a sip.

"Zhijie," Fang Xuanling said, setting down his teacup in a nonchalant tone, "you seem to have a lot of free time."

Cheng Yaojin chuckled, sat down opposite him, and took a big gulp of tea. "What leisure? I just planted the radishes. What brings you here today?"

Fang Xuanling looked at him but didn't reply.

Cheng Yaojin felt uneasy under Xuanling's gaze. He put down his teacup and leaned forward, saying, "Xuanling, say something. Your eyes are giving me the chills."

"That guy surnamed Wang from Lantian," Fang Xuanling finally spoke.

Cheng Yaojin's smile froze for a moment, then returned to normal: "Oh, that kid. What's wrong?"

"When did you find out?"

"Know what?"

"We knew he could grow new rice! We knew the yield was three bushels per mu! We knew he cured the Empress's illness!"

Fang Xuanling's voice rose a half-tone, his finger tapping the table, "Zhijie, you've kept this from me for so long!"

Cheng Yaojin shrank his neck, picked up the teacup and took another sip, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Xuanling, listen to me—"

"What did you say?" Fang Xuanling stood up and paced back and forth in the hall. "You let your son learn to grow rice and brew wine. He'll reap all the benefits without uttering a single word."

I'm in the government office watching grain prices and calculating taxes every day, racking my brains over the grain situation in Guanzhong, while you, on the other hand, are keeping quiet about the high-yield seeds that can increase production!

Cheng Yaojin was scolded so badly that he huddled in his chair, chuckling to himself, not retaliating, like a piece of meat that could withstand any insults.

"Do you know how much more grain Guanzhong could have harvested if this new rice had been promoted a year earlier? How many times would the border troops have had to urge the grain supply to be delivered?"

How much less suffering will the people endure?

Fang Xuanling grew angrier as he spoke, "And you, hiding it all, even sending your son to my residence to deliver wine—you did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Cheng Yaojin finally couldn't sit still any longer. He stood up, walked up to Fang Xuanling, spread his hands, and still had that same playful smile on his face.

"Xuanling, are you done cursing? If you're done, listen to me for a moment."

Fang Xuanling, panting, glared at him.

"His Majesty already knew about this."

Cheng Yaojin lowered his voice, but still had a smile on his face. "The first time was when Princess Chang Le and Princess Jin Yang went to the farm and reported back to His Majesty."

The second time, His Majesty personally visited incognito, where he drank tea, inspected the fields, and ate a meal at the farm.

He paused, looked into Fang Xuanling's eyes, and spoke in his usual irreverent tone, but the weight of his words was no less.

"His Majesty knows everything. How dare I make decisions on my own without his permission? If I ruin His Majesty's plans, will you take the blame for me?"

""

Fang Xuanling's anger dissipated by most of it, but he still muttered under his breath.

"I know you too well, you old scoundrel! You're probably afraid we'll steal the wine because we know where it came from."

He sat back down in his chair, picked up the now-cold tea, and drank it all in one gulp. A bitter taste washed over his tongue.

His Majesty already knew. His Majesty even went there in person.

But he, the prime minister, knew nothing about it.

Cheng Yaojin sat down opposite him, crossed his legs, and still had that smug smile on his face.

"Xuanling, how could that be? Am I that kind of person? To be honest, I really didn't mean to hide this from you."

His Majesty forbade anyone to speak of it. Few people in the court knew that he was traveling incognito.

If I told you, would you submit a memorial to advise me, or would you pretend you don't know?

Fang Xuanling remained silent.

To offer advice would offend His Majesty; to pretend ignorance would be against one's own conscience.

"So His Majesty didn't want you to know, it's for your own good."

Cheng Yaojin patted his knee and laughed like a fox who had stolen a chicken.

Fang Xuanling raised his eyes and looked at Cheng Yaojin.

This old rascal usually laughs and jokes around, and seems rough and clumsy, but when it comes to crucial moments, he's clear-headed better than anyone else.

"Did His Majesty summon you today to have you send people to learn how to grow rice?" Cheng Yaojin asked.

Fang Xuanling nodded.

"Then hurry up and get on with it." Cheng Yaojin stood up, patted his clothes, and said, "Don't waste your time here."

"The people have been chosen; send them directly to the farm. That kid's a good guy; he won't give anyone a hard time. Oh, by the way..."

He suddenly remembered something, turned around, and asked, "Did His Majesty say what to call us when we arrive at the farm?"

"I did. I only said they were subordinates of Master Li, without mentioning the palace."

"That's right." Cheng Yaojin grinned. "The man you sent should announce Master Li's name when he arrives. That kid is familiar with Master Li and won't ask any questions."

"I've sent the people."

Fang Xuanling said, "Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng from the Ministry of Agriculture are both experienced farmers who have spent their entire lives farming. They will leave today and arrive at the farm in a couple of days."

"That's good." Cheng Yaojin nodded.

Fang Xuanling stood up, straightened his clothes, walked to the door, suddenly stopped, and looked back at Cheng Yaojin.

"Zhijie, next time something like this happens, tell me earlier."

Cheng Yaojin chuckled: "Okay. I'll definitely do it next time."

Fang Xuanling walked out of the Duke of Lu's mansion and boarded his carriage. Only after the curtain was lowered did he let out a long sigh of relief.

He wasn't angry at Cheng Yaojin. He was just scared.

The new rice, which yielded three shi per mu, had been planted in Lantian for more than half a year, and he, the prime minister, only learned about it from His Majesty.

If His Majesty hadn't brought it up, how much longer would he have remained in the dark?

And then there are those poems. "If only I had a thousand mansions, for literature is a gift from heaven."

There was also Du Ruhui.

He leaned against the car wall, closed his eyes, and silently recited those two sentences to himself.

"It's all about timing and fate." The four words His Majesty had just spoken echoed in his ears once more.

At the farm, Wang Zhihai was grooming Huihui under the jujube tree.

He already knew that Master Li would send someone to learn how to grow rice; it was something they had agreed on during their last tea party.

No rush. Everything that needs to be prepared is ready. Just come and let us know. The farm is so big, there's food and lodging provided, so we won't have to worry.

"Banxia," he called out.

Zhou Xia poked her head out from the backyard: "Master."

"Clean up that empty room on the east side of the backyard and prepare the bedding. People might be coming in the next couple of days."

Zhou Xia responded, put down the medicine grinder in her hand, and went to tidy up the room.

Everything that needs to be prepared has been prepared.

Two days later, on July 15th, Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng arrived at the farm.

They arrived in the afternoon. Two old horses walked slowly along the official road, their hooves kicking up dust that covered them.

As he reined in his horse at the gate, Zhao Youtian dismounted, stretched his stiff legs, and then looked up to survey the farm.

The courtyard wall was made of rammed earth and wasn't high; you could see the jujube tree and stone table inside. The gate was half-open, and you could hear geese honking and dogs barking from inside.

Wang Laogeng also dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post at the entrance.

"Is this the place?" Zhao Youtian said.

"There's no plaque on the door, I'll have to ask." Wang Laogeng straightened his collar and stepped forward to knock on the door.

The door opened quickly. A boy, about fifteen or sixteen years old, opened the door. He was wearing a faded coarse cloth short brown shirt, an apron tied around his waist, and flour still stuck to his hands.

"And who are you two?" Zhou Xia asked.

"My surname is Zhao, and this is Brother Wang." Zhao Youtian cupped his hands and said as Fang Xuanling had instructed, "We two are servants of Master Li. We have been sent by Master Li to your estate to learn how to grow new rice."

Zhou Xia quickly stepped aside to open the courtyard gate: "Please come in, both of you. Master has been waiting for a long time."

Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng walked into the courtyard.

A young man was sitting under the jujube tree, dressed in a gray cloth shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and straw sandals on his feet, drinking tea.

Seeing them come in, the young man put down his teacup, stood up, and cupped his hands in greeting.

"You two must be tired from your journey. My name is Wang Zhihuan."

Zhao Youtian and Wang Laogeng quickly returned the greeting.

The young man in front of them was even younger than they had imagined, but he was calm and composed, with clear eyes, showing no trace of the awkwardness of a country bumpkin.

"You're too kind, Master Wang," Zhao Youtian said. "We've come here on Master Li's orders to learn martial arts, and we apologize for troubling you."

"It's no trouble at all," Wang Zhihuan gestured. "The rooms are ready, please rest. We'll have dinner together tonight, and I'll take you to see the fields tomorrow."

Zhou Xia stepped forward, took their luggage, and led them to the backyard.

The east wing was spotless, and the bed was covered with a newly made cotton quilt, which was fluffy and soft after being sun-dried. On the table were a teapot and teacups, with hot tea brewing in the pot.

Wang Zhi even spent a considerable amount of merit points to get these quilts. But there was no other way; for a modern person, sleeping without a quilt at night was truly unbearable. Cotton was a rare commodity in those days.

"Please rest, both of you." Zhou Xia placed her luggage on the bedside table. "There's food being cooked on the stove. I'll come and call you when it's ready."

Zhao Youtian sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch the bedding. It was soft and dry.

"This manor owner is a meticulous person," he said to Wang Laogeng.

Wang Laogeng stood by the window, looking at the jujube tree, stone table, cats and dogs in the yard, and the half-grown boy squatting by the goose pen feeding the geese.

"Yes, he's a meticulous person," he said.

Zhao Youtian stood up, walked to the window, and stood side by side with Wang Laogeng.

In the yard, Tie Dan was scattering chopped hay into the goose pen. The geese flapped their wings and scrambled for it, making a lively cacophony of honking.

From the kitchen, Xiaoman brought out a basin of rice-rinsing water and poured it under the roots of the jujube tree.

Ah Huang followed her around twice, but when he didn't get any food, he crawled back under the stone bench.

Two old agricultural officials stood by the window, watching the daily life unfold in this small courtyard.

"Old Zhao," Wang Laogeng suddenly spoke up.

"Um?"

"Do you really think this new rice can yield three shi (a unit of dry measure) per mu (a unit of land area)?"

Zhao Youtian remained silent for a moment.

"His Majesty saw it with his own eyes," he said. "Even Chancellor Fang believed it. Now that we're here, we'll see for ourselves."

Outside the window, the sun was already beginning to set in the west.

In a few days, it will be time to start harvesting.