Chapter 41: Benefits for a Thousand Generations

Zhou Xingfu opened his suitcase and took out three heavy bags.

Before deciding to come to the Qin Dynasty and having the opportunity to meet the First Emperor of Qin, he had pondered over what gift would be most appropriate.

Looking across history, countless common people in every dynasty died of famine. They toiled busily all their lives, all for the sake of a full meal. Yet, so many never even managed to eat a single full stomach before they died.

Since ancient times, the entire Chinese nation has regarded "food as the people's heaven," showing just how vital grain is.

Amidst the curious gazes of the onlookers, he first picked up the grey cloth bag on the far left and slowly opened it.

He knew that what he was about to offer were treasures capable of changing the course of the entire Chinese civilization.

"Your Majesty, please look at this," Zhou Xingfu untied the first bag and poured a handful of plump rice grains into his palm. "These are premium rice seeds cultivated by future generations."

Under the candlelight, each grain of rice was full and round, a full circle larger than the rice seeds currently possessed by the Qin Dynasty.

Ying Zheng leaned forward slightly, the jade beads hanging from his dark imperial crown swaying gently.

"These seeds are drought-resistant and disease-resistant, and the yield per mu can reach..." Zhou Xingfu paused, his voice rising unconsciously, "more than ten dan."

"Ten dan?!" Even a figure like Li Si could not help but gasp upon hearing this yield per mu.

Meng Yi and Feng Jie widened their eyes abruptly, their breathing stalling for a moment.

The fingers hidden in Zhao Gao's sleeves tightened unconsciously.

Ten dan—what an astonishingly high yield!

Zhao Gao hurriedly stepped forward to receive the rice grains from Zhou Xingfu's hand.

Ying Zheng slowly stood up, the jade beads on his crown colliding with a crisp sound. He took the rice seeds from Zhao Gao and gently rubbed them between his fingertips. "Is this true?"

Zhou Xingfu nodded emphatically. "If anything, that is an understatement. This rice is best suited for planting in the water-rich regions of Jiangnan. With proper irrigation methods, two harvests can be reaped in a single year."

A dead silence fell within the hall, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing rising and falling.

Ying Zheng's fingertips trembled slightly. What did this mean?

It meant that the granaries of Qin would be overflowing, that there would never again be starving peasants rising in rebellion, and that his empire would be as secure as an iron fortress!

"Continue," Ying Zheng's voice was frighteningly low.

Before they had fully digested this, Zhou Xingfu untied the second yellow cloth bag.

This time, what poured out was a pile of peculiar tubers with light yellow skins and irregular shapes.

"This is called 'potato.' It is cold-resistant and barren-tolerant, and can be planted in the arid lands of the north."

He held a potato in the palm of his hand. "The yield per mu is about thirty dan."

"Th-thirty dan?!" Meng Yi gasped involuntarily, his voice cracking out of tune.

Li Si cast aside his usual composure and hurried forward, carefully taking a potato from Zhou Xingfu's hand to examine it closely.

Even Zhao Gao, who rarely showed true emotion, could not help but gasp and unconsciously take half a step forward.

Ying Zheng's gaze was like a torch, staring intently at those unassuming tubers. "Can this thing truly yield such a harvest?"

"Absolutely true," Zhou Xingfu affirmed. "Not only does it have a high yield, but it is also rich in nutrients and can serve as a staple food. During the cold winter, if buried in a root cellar, it can be stored for half a year without spoiling."

When the last red cloth bag was untied, Zhou Xingfu was already familiar with the process.

He took out a handful of dark red root tubers. "This is 'sweet potato.' It is drought-resistant and insect-resistant, and can be planted on hillsides and dry land alike."

Zhao Gao received them, gently placing the sweet potatoes on the imperial desk.

Zhou Xingfu continued, "The yield starts at twenty dan per mu. Moreover, the vines can be used as fodder, and the tubers are sweet and delicious, edible both raw and cooked."

Li Si's beard trembled violently, and this normally steadfast chancellor was momentarily left speechless.

Feng Jie was emotionally stirred, his voice choking, "Your Majesty! This is truly Heaven blessing our Great Qin!"

Ying Zheng slowly sat back down on the dragon throne, his expression hidden beneath the hanging beads of his crown. But everyone could see that the chest of this emperor through the ages was rising and falling violently. After a long moment, his low voice echoed through the hall, "Can all of these be grown successfully in Great Qin?"

Zhou Xingfu bowed deeply. "Reporting to Your Majesty, as long as the correct planting methods are mastered, a bountiful harvest is guaranteed. I have compiled the methods of planting, fertilization, and storage into manuals."

Ying Zheng suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the grand hall. "Good! Good! Good!"

He uttered the word "good" three times in succession, then turned his gaze to Li Si. "Li Si!"

"This old subject is here!" Li Si fell to his knees.

"Starting today, set aside fertile land in Lishan specifically for the trial cultivation of these three things!"

A terrifying light flashed in Ying Zheng's eyes. "If there is the slightest mistake..."

"This old subject will offer his head!" Li Si knocked his head heavily against the floor.

Watching this scene, Zhou Xingfu felt a myriad of emotions swirling within him.

He knew that what he was offering was not merely a bag of seeds, but the key to changing the destiny of the entire Chinese nation.

From this day forward, perhaps the people of Qin would never again need to worry about famine.

In all the dynasties to come, perhaps the tragic sight of people exchanging their children to eat would never happen again.

Ying Zheng rose from his throne, walked slowly toward Zhou Xingfu, and bowed slightly. "Minister Zhou, on behalf of all the living souls under heaven, I thank you."

This gesture carried the weight of a thousand jun.

This address of "Minister Zhou" bore a ruler's rare respect, and even more, it felt like an acknowledgment transcending a thousand years.

This scene moved Jiang Ye and the others profoundly.

When Ying Zheng straightened up, Jiang Yijun stepped forward and said, "This commoner, Jiang Yijun, also has a gift to present to Your Majesty."

Ying Zheng's gentle gaze shifted to Jiang Yijun. "Oh? What is it?"

Jiang Yijun opened his suitcase, took out several chunks of dark, heavy ore and a few pieces of processed refined coal, and neatly arranged them on the imperial desk.

He began to explain, "Your Majesty, this is 'coal,' a fuel far more efficient than firewood."

Ying Zheng picked up a piece of raw coal and weighed it in his hand. "I have indeed seen this substance before, but it is rarely used among the common people."

"That is precisely what I wished to address," Jiang Yijun said with a sincere tone. "In our era, this material has been popularized in thousands of households, used for heating and cooking. There is an ancient saying: 'Firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea.' Firewood is placed first because starting fires for cooking and keeping warm against the cold are inseparable from it."

When preparing this item, Jiang Yijun had specifically checked historical records, knowing that the Qin Dynasty already made minor use of surface-mined coal for high-temperature forging. However, due to technological and social limitations, it had never become a mainstream fuel, let alone something popularized among the common folk.

For ordinary commoners to keep warm, they had to rely on firewood.

Yet firewood was not something you could simply go and chop on any random mountain slope. The mountains near cities or villages were all owned properties; if you dared to go up a mountain to chop wood, imprisonment awaited you.

Consequently, a distinct profession emerged in ancient times: the woodcutter. These individuals were impoverished peasants who traveled dozens of li away to uninhabited, deep mountains to chop wood and then sell it in the markets.

From this, one could see how difficult and vital firewood truly was.