Chapter 33: Potatoes

After a long while, the flames gradually died down. Sun Shengyuan dug out a pile of potatoes that looked like charred wood from the embers. Fang Yuan, seeing this, could hardly believe such a thing was edible. However, when he saw Sun Shengyuan waiting with an expression of excitement for him to cut one open, he drew his weapon and sliced through a potato that looked like a lump of coal.

The potato, small to begin with, now had only a thumb-sized portion of edible flesh inside. Yet, even this tiny morsel emitted an enticing aroma. Fang Yuan couldn't help but pick it up and take a whiff. "My Lord, it smells so good. It really does look edible."

Fang Han felt a sense of relief. Regardless of how the process went, the result was at least something. Though small, it was enough; he would slowly teach them how to prepare it properly in the future. The soldiers, seeing Fang Yuan holding the charred potatoes and smelling the fragrance, were eager to try. Fang Han glanced at them and said, "Go ahead, see if it’s fit to eat."

The soldiers swarmed forward, and in a moment, the charred potatoes were snatched up. They carefully placed them into their mouths, and instantly, a sweet, savory flavor swept across their throats. The texture was soft and glutinous, with a hint of delicate tenderness. But the good times were short-lived; soon, someone was clutching his throat, choking out, "Water, water!"

Seeing his subordinate in such a state, Fang Yuan assumed he had been poisoned. He immediately drew his weapon and pointed it at Sun Shengyuan. "You bold knave! How dare you attempt to harm my Lord!"

Sun Shengyuan laughed, "My Lord, do not panic. He is merely choking. A drink of water will suffice. It was the same for me the first time I ate them."

With that, Sun Shengyuan brought water to the soldier. The man gulped it down and let out a sudden, loud hiccup. "My Lord, I’m—hic—fine now—hic."

Watching this comical scene, Fang Han felt a bit helpless and said, "As long as you are all right."

Having learned their lesson, the remaining soldiers ate the roasted potatoes with great caution. Fang Yuan peeled one and offered it to Fang Han, but Fang Han pushed it away. Instead, he picked out one he was most satisfied with, carefully peeled it, and began to eat. That was the only way to truly enjoy a roasted potato.

As the potato touched his tongue, a long-lost taste of home flooded his senses. It made him feel as if he had returned to his childhood, innocently stealing and roasting potatoes in the fields. Unfortunately, time waits for no one, and he was now merely a traveler in a different world.

After finishing the potatoes, everyone agreed that this crop could replace their dry rations. After all, the dry rations were parched, and this was equally dry; in that regard, there was no difference. However, the yield of potatoes was far higher than that of millet. From the same plot of land, one could harvest a pile of potatoes, whereas one could only harvest a single bowl of rice. In terms of yield, the potato was the undisputed champion.

"My Lord, if we plant potatoes on all our fields, we will never lack food again!" Fang Yuan shouted excitedly. The other soldiers were equally thrilled.

Fang Han chuckled, "The idea is good, but this is coarse grain; eat too much and you'll get sick of it." He had experienced those bitter years in his childhood when he ate potatoes every single day, and later, just hearing the word "potato" would make him shudder. If he forced the soldiers to eat this daily, they would be more likely to revolt against him than to follow him in revolting against others.

However, while they couldn't eat it every day, it could certainly be a staple. Especially over these next two years, food production needed to focus on expanding planting areas, and supply could not be increased overnight. Therefore, they would inevitably be eating plenty of potatoes.

"Dig up all these potatoes and take them with you. Mind you, scour the earth three feet deep; don't leave a single one behind," Fang Han ordered.

Sun Shengyuan had been studying potato cultivation for the past two years and had mastered the timing for a successful harvest. It was currently the start of winter, meaning the planting season was just over a month away. He had originally intended to wait a little longer before coming down the mountain to offer his services, but he hadn't expected Fang Han’s soldiers to arrive first, saving him the trip.

Soon, all the potatoes were unearthed—over two hundred in total. Once they began planting, these two hundred could become over a thousand plants. By next year, they would multiply into tens of thousands. Within two years, every commoner in the Southern Frontier would have potatoes to grow and potatoes to eat.

Passing the foot of the mountain, Sun Shengyuan grew visibly nervous. Fang Han, noticing his state, knew they were approaching the grave of the old man, Sun. He voluntarily stepped out of the carriage to walk with him. Finally, Sun Shengyuan stopped before an inconspicuous stone monument. Fang Han stood before the grave and bowed deeply, thanking him for his work in cultivating hybrid rice. Suddenly, remembering the hybrid rice, he asked in a low voice, "Did you bring the rice seeds?"

Sun Shengyuan nodded. "After my brother passed, I continued to cultivate them. I kept some each time and distributed others to the villagers for planting."

Hearing that the villagers were planting them, Fang Han thought of the fish in the rice paddies. If the technique for rice-paddy fish belonged to Sun Shengyuan, then the rice growing there was likely his hybrid strain. This trip up the mountain had been highly productive.

After descending, Fang Han brought Sun Shengyuan to the Protectorate Mansion. Liu San was thrilled to see a new elderly man; he finally had someone of his own age to talk to. Although Old Wu was his good friend, he had been busy blacksmithing ever since they entered the mansion, and recently, he had been stumped by a difficult problem he couldn't figure out how to forge. As for the apprentices, they were novices who couldn't even control the fire, let alone forge. Liu San, having no major tasks lately, had grown quite idle. How could he not be happy to have a peer?

"Master, what does he do?" Liu San asked.

"He farms," Fang Han replied.

Liu San was shocked. "Farming?" He had always been the one in charge of agricultural affairs. Now that someone new had arrived, was this not an attempt to snatch his job?

"What, are you unwilling?" Fang Han asked.

"Master, I have always managed the farming. Now that there is someone new, I... I... what am I to do?"

Fang Han rolled his eyes at him. "You are a steward; isn't taking care of the mansion enough for you? Rest assured, this man is a recluse. He possesses unparalleled, advanced farming techniques and is here to assist you."

Liu San could hardly believe it. Truly advanced farming techniques? Were their current methods not advanced enough?

"Master, is... is this true?"

"Why would I lie to you? Get up, I have things to do." With that, Fang Han left without looking back.

Liu San circled Sun Shengyuan, exclaiming that he was a genius. "Old brother, let's go, let's go to my place. Let me tell you, the Southern Frontier now has six thousand mu of farmland—six thousand mu!"

Liu San dragged Sun Shengyuan off to his quarters, while Fang Han headed to Lin Qingwei’s room. Sun Shengyuan had been a farmer for generations and was an expert in cultivation. Perhaps he had a way to treat the wilting medicinal herbs.