Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

"Deputy Commander Liu."

Zhu Qiyu's voice was cold and devoid of any warmth.

He held up one finger and pointed to the whole roasted lamb in the center of the table.

"How much would this sheep be worth in Datong?"

Liu Ju was completely baffled and could only answer truthfully:

"Your Highness, the border is currently facing a shortage of food supplies. Such a fat sheep would cost about two taels of silver."

Zhu Qiyu nodded, flicked a bead off the abacus with his finger, making a soft "snap" sound.

He then pointed to a jar of fine wine beside him: "Where is this jar of wine?"

"This...this is aged Fenjiu liquor, one jar costs five taels of silver."

Beads of sweat began to appear on Liu Ju's forehead; he vaguely sensed that something was amiss.

Zhu Qiyu's fingers flew across the abacus.

As he announced the name of each dish on the table, the abacus beads clattered and clicked.

"Roasted deer tendon, three taels; bear paw, ten taels; these seasonal fresh vegetables are especially rare in the harsh winter of the north, costing at least twenty taels. Add to that the cost of booking this entire Drunken Immortal Restaurant..."

Zhu Qiyu suddenly pushed the abacus aside, raised his eyes, and the sharpness in his eyes was exactly the same as that of the abacus emperor in the capital.

"Liu Ju, this welcome banquet, if you calculate it all, will cost more than 150 taels of silver."

Zhu Qiyu stood up, placed his hands on the table, and stared down at Liu Ju.

"According to the Ming Dynasty's Military Law and the Examination of Revenue, the monthly ration of an ordinary infantryman on the border was a mere seven qian of silver!"

"Your banquet has cost the life savings of over two hundred border guards for a month!"

The generals of Datong were so frightened by this sudden question that they all stood up, their faces turning pale.

They never expected that this Prince Cheng, rumored to be a romantic and carefree man, would actually know so much about the border troops' rations.

They can even calculate the price of a banquet on the spot!

Liu Juqiang suppressed his panic and argued illogically.

"Your Highness misunderstands! The money for this banquet was raised by my brothers and me from our own pockets; it certainly didn't use any military funds!"

"Paying out of your own pocket?"

Zhu Qiyu seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world, and he pointed to the mahogany box filled with gold.

"You, Liu Ju, as a deputy commander-in-chief, receive a mere 150 shi of grain a year, equivalent to less than 100 taels of silver! This box contains 100 taels of gold, equivalent to 1,000 taels of silver!"

"Tell me, where did you, this border general, so pure and clear-headed, come from to collect the gold you'd accumulated over ten years without eating or drinking?!"

Zhu Qiyu's voice echoed in the private room, each word piercing the heart.

"Did they cut off the soldiers' rations? Or did they embezzle the imperial court's military farmland?!"

Liu Ju and the others were speechless after being confronted, their backs soaked with cold sweat.

Their tricks can fool those who spout platitudes about benevolence and morality with the excuse of "border customs."

But when you encounter a ruthless manager who talks about costs, salaries, and silver ingots all the time, it's like being stripped naked and paraded through the streets under the scorching sun.

All lies crumble before meticulous accounting.

"Your Highness...this..."

Liu Ju's legs went weak, and he was momentarily at a loss for what to do.

"Take this box of gold and add it to the official expenses of the imperial inspector in Datong Town!"

Zhu Qiyu coldly gave the order, and the accompanying Imperial Guards immediately stepped forward and took away the box of gold.

Zhu Qiyu glanced at the table full of delicacies and snorted coldly.

"I cannot swallow this food stained with the blood and sweat of my soldiers! Liu Ju, stop with your tricks. I am not here today to listen to your complaints."

Zhu Qiyu grabbed the sandalwood abacus from the table, then took the short black iron shovel from his waist and slammed it to the ground with a clang.

"Lead the way! Go to those abandoned farmlands you reported, eroded by wind and sand, yielding no harvest! Today, I will personally use this iron shovel to measure every inch of Datong's land."

"For every acre less, I will make up with your heads!"

After saying this, Zhu Qiyu turned and left, leaving behind a room full of border generals whose faces were ashen.

Looking at Zhu Qiyu's resolute back and then at the shocking black iron short stick, Liu Ju felt a deep sense of despair.

What exactly happened in the capital?

It's bad enough that the emperor has become a shrewd and calculating devil.

How come even this idle prince from the Tenth Prince's Mansion has turned into a madman carrying an iron shovel and an abacus, working in the fields?!

Left with no other choice, Liu Ju had to bite the bullet and lead his generals to follow in Zhu Qiyu's footsteps.

One hour later.

Thirty miles west of Datong City lies a place called "White Wolf Slope".

This is the place recorded in the Ministry of War's register of fish scales, which once had tens of thousands of acres of fertile land, but is now reported as "saline wasteland".

The cold wind howled, and as far as the eye could see, the land was covered with a layer of white salt and alkali, with large and small stones piled up haphazardly on top, and not a single weed could be seen.

To anyone who looked at it, this was a barren land where no harvest could be found.

Liu Ju pointed to the wasteland and complained to Zhu Qiyu with a face full of grief and indignation.

"Your Highness, look! This is the suffering of Datong! This Bailang Slope was indeed a top-quality irrigated land during the Hongwu era. But in recent years, the wind and sand have been strong, and the ground has become alkaline. Crops cannot be grown here; instead, stones grow."

"The soldiers and their families are starving, and most of them have deserted. We are heartbroken, which is why we reported the truth to the court and applied for a reduction in the quota for these 10,000 mu of farmland."

Several officers echoed this sentiment, wiping away tears from their own eyes and feigning concern for the country and its people.

They were secretly pleased with themselves.

They've been performing these magic tricks at White Wolf Slope for over a decade.

When the imperial envoy came to investigate, seeing the ground covered in white frost and stones, he would most likely sigh twice and then return home.

Who would actually go out into the freezing cold to dig up dirt?

Zhu Qiyu stood in the wind, coldly looking at the "wasteland" in front of him.

He recalled the murderous sound of his elder brother's abacus in the side hall of the Wenhua Hall.

I recalled the solid yellow earth of Xiyuan, as hard as iron, and the cold mockery of Chief Minister Gu.

"Is it because there are loose rocks underneath that you can't dig anymore?"

Gu Yannian's voice seemed to echo in my ears once again.

Zhu Qiyu's lips curled into a mocking sneer.

He ignored Liu Ju's cries and walked straight ahead, stepping into the land covered with salt and gravel.

"Your Highness, be careful! Those pebbles on the ground are sharp and can hurt your feet!" Liu Ju pretended to warn him.

Zhu Qiyu walked to the center of the wasteland and stopped.

He slammed the black iron short stick heavily onto the ground.

He gripped the handle with both hands, took a deep breath, and recalled the strength he had developed in Xiyuan over the past two weeks.

He aimed at a piece of seemingly hard saline soil and dug down hard!

"Snap!"

The iron spatula broke through the thin layer of white salt and alkali on the surface, making a crisp cracking sound.

Zhu Qiyu used both hands to pry open the clod of earth mixed with gravel, turning it over.

All the wing generals present had their pupils suddenly contract and their breaths seemed to stop the moment they saw the turned-up soil.

Beneath the white saline-alkali soil, at a depth of less than three inches, lies a dark, moist, and fertile prime soil!

"This is the rocky land you were talking about, the kind where crops can't grow?!"

Zhu Qiyu suddenly turned around, pointed his iron hoe at Liu Ju, and his voice boomed like thunder in the cold wind.

Liu Ju's legs went weak, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud, covered in sweat and feeling as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

"This...this...this humble general doesn't know...perhaps this piece of land just happens to be..."

Liu Ju tried to make excuses, speaking incoherently.

Zhu Qiyu didn't listen to his nonsense at all.

He picked up the iron spade and frantically shoveled it a dozen times along the spot he had just dug, turning over all the topsoil within a radius of several feet.

Without exception, beneath that layer of disguised salt and gravel lies fertile soil so rich it could be squeezed to extract oil!

Saline-alkali land?

It was clearly a smokescreen by these border generals who deliberately spread a layer of salt and stones on the fertile fields to deceive the imperial court's inspection!

When spring plowing season arrives, all that's needed is to sweep away this disguise.

These thousands of acres of fertile land could produce countless grains, all of which would end up in their own pockets!