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

Chapter 118 The Harvest Begins

July 20th, the ninth year of Zhenguan.

It was still quite dark outside, and Wang Zhihuan woke up.

He woke up on his own, as if something inside him had woken him up at the appointed time.

This is perhaps what is meant by "habit becomes second nature".

He lay on the bamboo mat, staring at the roof beams above him, motionless.

As usual, Grey curled up on the pillow, its tail tip resting on his wrist, gently brushing it back and forth.

Ah Huang lay on the foot of the bed, his chin resting on his feet, snoring louder than thunder.

These two are like Wang Zhihuan's two henchmen. No matter how useless they are, at least one thing is certain: whenever Wang Zhihuan is in a bad mood, seeing them will naturally soothe his mood.

Today is the day to begin harvesting, a day he has been waiting for for a long time.

He lay in the darkness for a moment, then gently removed the gray tail from his wrist and rolled out of bed.

The lights were already on in the kitchen.

Xiaoman squatted in front of the stove adding firewood. The firelight made her cheeks rosy, and a fine layer of sweat beaded on her forehead.

Ever since Xiaoman came, no matter how early Wang Zhihuan gets up, she's always in the kitchen as soon as she wakes up.

Tie Dan squatted by the well, sharpening his sickle. The sharpening sound was particularly clear in the early morning, each stroke like a rhythmic beat for the well.

Dalang stood under the jujube tree, holding the "Three Character Classic" in his hands, but his eyes kept glancing outside the courtyard, and he didn't turn a single page for a long time.

Wang Zhi walked to the well and scooped up a ladle of water to wash his face. The well water was icy cold, making him shiver, and he felt completely refreshed.

"Tiedan, is your sickle sharpened?"

"Don't worry, just watch." Tie Dan raised a weapon, examined the blade against the morning light, then tested it on his thumb. The sharp edge grazed his fingertip, sending a chill through him. "Master, isn't that fast enough?"

"Speed ​​isn't enough; the blade has to be tough. If the rice stalk is tough, the knife will dull after a few cuts if it's too soft. Once it's dull, it becomes a saw that can't cut anything and breaks easily. The ears of rice will fall to the ground and you won't be able to pick them up."

Tie Dan responded and lowered his head to continue grinding, increasing the pressure on his hands.

Wang Zhihuan walked to the backyard and pushed open the door of the winery. The copper pots were polished to a gleaming shine, reflecting one's image. The earthenware jars were stacked neatly in a row.

He squatted down and touched the mud seal on the mouth of the jar—it was dry, hard, and sealed tightly.

This batch of wine was distilled last month, and it will be ready to sell after aging for another two months.

He stood up, dusted off his hands, and turned to walk out of the distillery.

The sky was beginning to lighten. A thin layer of morning mist covered the rice paddies, like a veil, enveloping the heavy ears of rice.

The rice stalks drooped, their tips glistening with dew, shimmering with a faint golden hue in the dim light. As far as the eye could see, the fields were covered in them.

As the saying goes, "The year's plan starts in the morning," and most of this year's harvest will be made today.

Chang'an, the Imperial Palace.

Li Shimin got up half an hour earlier than usual today.

When Zhao De came in to help him wash and dress, he had already dressed in his everyday clothes and was fastening his belt.

His fingers moved swiftly and deftly, unlike a pampered emperor, but more like a soldier who had been doing things himself for years.

"Your Majesty looks very well today," Zhao De said with a smile.

Li Shimin ignored him, fastened his belt, looked at himself in the bronze mirror, and suddenly asked, "Do I look like a—"

A wealthy and powerful man?

Zhao De was stunned for a moment and didn't dare to reply.

Li Shimin chuckled to himself and turned to walk out.

"Prepare the carriage. First to the Duke of Lu's residence, then to the Duke of Liang's residence. Today is the harvest season in Lantian, and I want to witness with my own eyes the birth of a triple miracle."

Zhao De responded and jogged off to deliver the message.

Cheng Yaojin was already waiting at the entrance of the Duke of Lu's mansion.

Today he was wearing a slightly worn blue brocade robe, looking like a wealthy country bumpkin, but the jade belt around his waist and the black boots on his feet revealed that the leather of the boots was too shiny, and it was clear that they were not something an ordinary family could afford.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing slightly.

"Get in the carriage." Li Shimin lifted the curtain. "Then we'll go fetch Xuanling."

Fang Xuanling got into the car at his own doorstep.

Today he was dressed even more simply than Cheng Yaojin, in a faded round-necked robe and an ordinary turban, looking like an old scholar who had retired to the countryside.

But his eyes were incredibly sharp, and when they swept over, no one dared to meet his gaze.

"Your Majesty." He bowed slightly after getting into the carriage.

"I won't call you Your Majesty today," Li Shimin waved his hand. "When we get to the farm, if you ask, just say I'm the current emperor's cousin, surnamed Li. You can call me Master Li."

Cheng Yaojin grinned and said, "Your subject obeys the decree."

Fang Xuanling glanced at him but didn't reply.

The carriage rumbled out of Chang'an and headed towards Lantian along the official road.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the rice paddies on both sides of the official road were faintly visible in the mist, as if covered with a thin veil.

Cheng Yaojin lifted the carriage curtain and glanced outside, then suddenly exclaimed, "Eh!"

"Your Majesty—Master Li, look."

Li Shimin followed his gaze.

The rice paddies by the roadside were sparse, with short ears and small grains; some ears were almost empty.

It was completely different from the rice paddies he had seen at the farm last time.

"That's why I wanted to go see it. To be honest, I was actually quite confident, but I always had an indescribable feeling until the final result came out."

Li Shimin lowered the carriage curtain and said, "I was thinking, if that kind of rice could be grown in Guanzhong, I would wake up laughing in the middle of the night."

Fang Xuanling sat upright to one side, without saying a word.

He was clutching a field register that had just been transferred from the Ministry of Agriculture that morning, which was filled with densely packed figures on the yield per mu in various counties of Guanzhong.

The highest yield was 1.2 shi per mu. The lowest yield was less than 8 dou.

One stone and two dou. One hundred and forty-four jin.

The rice in that farm, conservatively estimated, is three shi (a unit of dry measure). That's 360 jin (a unit of weight).

It's three times less.

He mentally calculated the number over and over again, and each time he did, his heart beat a fraction faster.

His face remained impassive, but the knuckles of his fingers, gripping Tian Ce tightly, turned slightly white.

The carriage sped along the official road. The closer they got to Lantian, the tighter Fang Xuanling gripped the land register.

His Majesty was not the only one who was nervous and excited.

Cheng Chumo was the first to arrive at the farm.

He rode his chestnut horse, followed by a carriage with Cheng Chuliang and the three Yuchi brothers inside.

Yu Chi Baohuan pressed his face against the car window, craning his neck to look out, his face full of excitement, repeatedly shouting, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

"Brother Wang!" Cheng Chumo dismounted and strode into the courtyard, his voice so loud it startled the sparrows in the jujube tree. "Today is the harvest season, and I've brought the men. Do as they please!"

Wang Zhihuan was drinking porridge under the jujube tree when he saw him come in, so he put down his bowl and stood up.

"You've come at the perfect time." He pointed towards the backyard. "I won't stand on ceremony with you today. The sickle is by the well; have Chu Liang take them to get it."

Cheng Chuliang had already jumped off the carriage and led the three Yuchi brothers to the backyard.

Yuchi Baohuan was running in the lead and almost tripped over the threshold, but Yuchi Baoqi grabbed her by the back of her collar and lifted her up.

"Be careful." Yu Chi Baoqi's voice wasn't loud, but it was deep, like a final word.

Yuchi Baohuan chuckled, steadied himself, and continued running.

Wang Zhihuan looked at the group of big kids, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

Indeed, men, regardless of age, sometimes find happiness to be that simple.

"Chumo, there are a lot of people today, we need to slaughter a pig. And there has to be plenty of alcohol too."

Cheng Chumo's eyes lit up: "Slaughtering a pig? And wine too?"

"We still have more than a dozen jars of pine syrup stored in the cellar last month, and it's time to open them. Today is a big day, a good day, so we should let everyone eat meat to their heart's content and drink wine to their heart's content."

Wang Zhi patted him on the shoulder, "You go get the wine, I'll go to the kitchen and get the preparations done."

Cheng Chumo rolled up his sleeves and ran towards the distillery, his footsteps thumping like drumbeats.

He had just left when the sound of a horse-drawn carriage came from the courtyard gate again.

Two cars arrived this time.

The carriage with the blue cloth curtain in front came to a stop first, and Chang Le got out of the carriage first, then turned around and led Si Zi down.

Today, Sizi was still wearing a pale yellow dress, with two small buns tied with light green ribbons on her head. She was tightly gripping the jujube wood rattle drum in her hand, her knuckles turning white from the grip.

"Pretty guy!" she called out as soon as she saw Wang Zhihuan, running over with her short legs, her face upturned, her eyes sparkling, "Sizi's here to see the rice harvest!"

"Okay." Wang Zhihuan squatted down to look her in the eye. "Sizi, you have to be good today. There are grasshoppers, frogs, and mud in the field. Don't run around, don't step on the rice, don't..." "Sizi knows!" Sizi interrupted him, nodding seriously, her little pigtails swaying back and forth. "Didn't our handsome brother say Sizi is the best and cutest?"

Chang Le followed behind, and Chao Wang Zhi Huan bowed slightly.

She wore a moon-white ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) today, with only a plain silver hairpin in her hair. There were no extra decorations on her body, but standing in the morning light, she looked like someone who had stepped out of a painting.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the thin dew dampened the hem of her skirt. With each step she took, she carried the crisp dampness into the air.

"Young Master Wang, I apologize for disturbing you today."

"I won't bother you." Wang Zhihuan stepped aside. "I'm usually too lonely. Today there are many people, so it'll be lively."

Just then, the carriage behind them came to a stop.

The carriage curtain was lifted, and Chengyang was the first to jump down, followed by Li Zhi. After getting off, Li Zhi did not rush into the courtyard, but turned around to help the people behind him.

Li Chengqian was the first to come down.

Today he was wearing a dark blue round-necked robe with a plain leather belt around his waist, and his overall demeanor clearly indicated that he was no ordinary person.

But he wore a gentle smile and cupped his hands in greeting to Wang Zhihuan.

"Master Wang, my surname is Li, and my given name is Qian. I heard that the harvest is starting today, so I came to bother you."

Wang Zhi returned the greeting. His surname was Li. His given name was Qian.

He silently repeated the name to himself without giving it much thought. All of Master Li's relatives naturally shared the surname Li.

Following behind was a young man with fair skin and delicate features, who was half a head shorter than Li Chengqian.

As soon as he entered the courtyard, he looked around at the jujube trees, the stone table, the winery, and the goose pen. His gaze swept around the area and finally landed in the direction of the kitchen, where he took a deep breath.

"It smells so good," he said.

Then, as if remembering something, he turned around, cupped his hands in greeting to Wang Zhihuan, and smiled, his tone revealing the refined manners unique to scholars: "My name is Li Qing, the fourth child in my family. Master Wang, you may call me Qingque. I have come today because of your reputation, and I apologize for disturbing you."

Wang Zhi glanced at him. Li Qing. Qingque. That's an interesting name, sounds like an elegant nickname. Wait, right?

He didn't think much of it and simply cupped his hands in greeting: "Young Master Li, you're too kind. Haven't you all had breakfast yet? There's some porridge in the kitchen, have something to eat first, we'll have a big meal today."

Li Qing's eyes lit up, and he moved his feet, but then stopped abruptly and turned to look at Li Chengqian.

Li Chengqian smiled slightly: "Thank you, Master Wang. We've already eaten on the way, so we're not hungry."

Despite saying that, Li Qing's gaze kept drifting towards the kitchen, several times over.

Chengyang had already run to the goose pen and was squatting there watching the geese graze, completely absorbed in the sight.

For some reason, whether it was Chengyang or Li Zhi, squatting down to watch the geese had become an indispensable part of their daily routine.

Li Zhi followed behind Chengyang, quiet and still, not saying a word, just watching.

He observes everything very carefully, as if he is memorizing something.

Sizi was different; she squatted under the jujube tree, teasing Ah Huang with a rattle-drum. Ah Huang finally met its nemesis once again.

The thumping and clattering sounds made its ears twitch incessantly, and it looked helpless, but it didn't try to escape. It just rested its chin on its paws and endured the noise with its eyes half-open and half-closed.

Chang Le stood by the stone table, looking at her younger sister with a smile on her lips.

Just as things were getting lively, the sound of horses' hooves came again from the official road. This time it was three horses, their hooves steady and unhurried, with a leisurely rhythm.

Cheng Chumo peeked out from the winery, quickly wiped his hands, and hurried over to meet them.

Wang Zhi walked to the courtyard gate and saw three horses stopped in front of the hitching post.

Leading the group was a burly, dark-skinned old general, dressed in a worn brocade robe with a jade belt around his waist. His imposing presence clearly indicated that he was a figure from the imperial court.

That gaze swept over like a knife, carrying the murderous aura honed on the battlefield, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth, softening the murderous intent somewhat.

Following behind was a slender, refined old man, wearing a faded round-necked robe, with a composed demeanor and sharp eyes.

He didn't speak, he just stood there, and the air seemed to grow heavier.

The last person to dismount was a middle-aged man in his forties.

He wore a dark-colored casual suit and a plain leather belt. He had a square face and an imposing presence that commanded respect without anger.

His dismounting was very graceful, like someone who was used to riding horses, landing silently as he did so.

Wang Zhihuan's gaze lingered on the middle-aged man for a moment.

This is an acquaintance, Mr. Li.

Cheng Chumo had already gone to greet him, first bowing to the dark-faced old general: "Father, you've arrived."

Then he turned to the refined old man, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "Prime Minister Fang."

Finally, he bowed to the middle-aged man, called him "Master Li" once, and said nothing more.

Wang Zhihuan's heart stirred slightly.

Cheng Chumo treated this "Master Li" with even more respect than he did his own father and the current prime minister.

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