Chapter Thirty-Three: An Unexpected Encounter with the Old Man

Lin Miaomiao had already reached an agreement with Li Zheng and finalized the plans for the dessert shop’s renovation and operations. An Qi was soon sent to the nearby village to recruit some young women for division of labor, while Lin Miaomiao found a vacant plot nearby to establish a processing plant. The village women were hired to help, and thus, Lin Miaomiao’s very first processing factory in ancient times was completed. People in this era were honest and simple, so Lin Miaomiao divided the production steps, safeguarding her recipe to the greatest extent.

She suddenly realized that Li Zheng’s business was thriving, with shops spread across various regions. Lin Miaomiao now cared for nothing but producing delicious pastries, and began to research more varieties. However, some required an oven. In modern times, Lin Miaomiao had watched a blogger build a simple oven, but living in a big city, she hadn’t learned how to make one herself. Out of curiosity, she had followed the blogger’s video for a general idea, so now she described the process, while the villagers assisted.

When Lin Miaomiao felt she truly couldn’t make an oven, she finally succeeded on her last attempt, nearly moved to tears by her own perseverance. As her ancient-style oven was finished, it felt as though music played in her heart. Yet the villager beside her glanced over and said, “Boss, why didn’t you just say you wanted a clay cellar?”

Lin Miaomiao was speechless.

She saw the villager’s disdainful expression, sensing he was inwardly mocking her: “Such a simple thing, and you made it so convoluted?” It reminded Lin Miaomiao of her days in the lab—she could experiment however she liked, and her teachers encouraged creativity. She used to think her assignments were simple, but now, faced with starting from scratch, she realized her confidence back then was misplaced.

And so, Lin Miaomiao’s first food processing factory opened for business, and she now possessed an oven. She adopted the demeanor of a master, standing on the production line, supervising everything: anyone entering without washing their hands or wearing clean clothes was not allowed in.

Lin Miaomiao negotiated directly with the village chief, who was overjoyed to learn she wanted to open a factory and hire local villagers. The people here were poor; the land wasn’t a fertile plain, and grain yields were low. Their poverty was compounded by frequent incursions from nomads, making life even harder. Ambitious people would leave for better prospects, but most lacked the courage, leaving the village impoverished.

Lin Miaomiao looked at these women and required everyone to come to work clean, offering each fifty coins per month. She hired thirty women at once, with the village chief helping to coordinate, seeking out pitiful women whose husbands were soldiers or had died.

With Li Zheng’s investment, Lin Miaomiao had ample funds, so she built a decent two-story house for these workers to live in. Her conditions were generous, and those not selected did not complain or throw tantrums. The villagers were mostly honest and grateful to Lin Miaomiao, who now watched Li Zheng’s order numbers rise.

She couldn’t help but be astonished—these orders were enormous! She had no idea Li Zheng’s business was so large, with huge demand for goods. After all, Li Zheng had to hand over more than half his earnings to the national treasury—this was a secret, known to only a few in the royal family.

Lin Miaomiao sighed and started again. Recently, Li Yanhe had been working at the county office in Changyan County, which no longer surprised Lin Miaomiao. Every morning, Li Yanhe left on horseback, returning punctually each evening. Whenever Lin Miaomiao saw his weary expression, she knew what it meant.

An Qi walked with Lin Miaomiao along the country path as she pondered whether to open a clothing shop. In prosperous times antiques are prized, but in chaotic eras gold is valued—food, clothing, housing, and transport all gain popularity as people grow wealthier. Lin Miaomiao had never studied fashion design, but she had learned to draw! Back then, her mother, persuaded by a cram school teacher, decided to enroll her in an art class to cultivate talent.

At the time, Lin Miaomiao was very young, always wanting to play outside, with no desire to attend art classes. To resist her mother’s plans, she clung to her grandparents, crying, even refusing to live at home, preferring her grandparents’ house. Yet Lin Miaomiao concluded that one should never try to outwit one’s mother—she would never win.

That art class battle ended in defeat. Lin Miaomiao, resigned, shouldered her backpack, took her paper and pencils, and went meekly to class. She admired the stars on stage, always thinking their clothes looked wonderful, especially the beauties in ancient costumes. Lin Miaomiao once dreamed of becoming a fashion designer; upon graduating high school, she wanted to apply for fashion design.

But her mother firmly opposed it, so Lin Miaomiao didn’t apply. Determined to rebel, she switched her major to Food and Health. Her friend, sharing similar tastes and interests, had promised to study fashion design together, but due to Lin Miaomiao’s mother’s opposition, Lin Miaomiao had to give up. Later, seeing her friend’s struggles, Lin Miaomiao realized her mother’s wisdom, but her drawing skills remained solid.

A professional would probably dismiss her drawings as worthless, but Lin Miaomiao was content. Holding the candied hawthorn An Qi had just bought for her in one hand, and some dried fruit in the other, she munched while gazing at the bare land.

Suddenly, Lin Miaomiao turned to An Qi and asked foolishly, “Brother Hei Qi, may I ask, aren’t there four seasons in a year? After the autumn harvest, can’t one plant winter wheat?”

An Qi glanced at Lin Miaomiao, replying blankly, “Why plant winter wheat?”

Lin Miaomiao scratched her head and said, “I remember someone telling me you could plant winter wheat. If the snowfall is heavy this winter, the wheat harvest next year will be better.”

An Qi was silent.

Lin Miaomiao, seeing An Qi’s silence, felt genuinely foolish—she didn’t even know how to farm.

She was the classic example of someone whose hands can’t carry or lift, “lazy limbs, ignorant of the grains.” Lin Miaomiao never admitted it, but it was true. Staring at the land, she sighed, wondering why she never studied agriculture. If she had, she wouldn’t be so clueless now.

An Qi watched Lin Miaomiao sitting at the edge of the field, her expression shifting as she pondered, when suddenly an old man stood before her. Lin Miaomiao brushed the dirt off her backside and stood up, saying to the old man, “Grandpa, could you please stand aside a bit? You’re blocking my thought process.”

“What is a thought process?” the old man asked, looking at Lin Miaomiao. She scratched her head, suddenly realizing she could ask him for advice—her confusion might be resolved. Lin Miaomiao’s gaze sparkled as she looked at the gray-haired elder. His clothes were plain, not luxurious, but free of patches.

Lin Miaomiao looked up, smiling, and said, “Grandpa, please don’t take offense at my words just now.”

The old man snorted, “I won’t bother arguing with a youngster.”

Lin Miaomiao nodded, thinking to herself, “That’s great, I’m relieved you don’t mind.”

“Grandpa, can you plant winter wheat here? That is, can we grow wheat twice a year—after the autumn harvest, sowing wheat seeds?”

The old man looked at Lin Miaomiao as if she were foolish, making her anxious under his disdainful gaze.

“Grandpa, could you not look at me like that? I know I’m lazy and ignorant, but what I’m saying makes sense! Wheat can be planted in two seasons—winter and spring! I may not know how to farm, but I know that much!”

The old man frowned, deep in thought. And so, a strange scene unfolded at the edge of the field: two people, one old and one young, sitting together, lost in contemplation, drawing circles in the dirt with sticks.

Lin Miaomiao was trying to recall what her teacher had said in class, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember. She wanted to scold herself for idle thoughts—now she was stuck, frustrated for half the day.

The old man beside her, however, was experienced in farming; he was actually the Emperor Yongchang in disguise. He hadn’t expected to gain new insights from this visit, but now the number of troubled souls had doubled.