I started on a deserted island and encountered Ying Zheng, who insisted I was an immortal.

Wang Ben used his fingers to carefully dig away the surrounding soil, bit by bit, until he finally managed to carefully lift out a huge potato.

"See that?! Just do it!"

Wang Ben held up the mud-covered potato and roared at his soldiers.

Zhang Ying had casually mentioned before that the yield of potatoes per mu was about 5,000 jin.

Although Ying Zheng and Meng Yi were shocked, they did not have a clear understanding of the situation because they had never personally measured and harvested an entire acre of land.

Now, the opportunity has arrived.

Under Meng Yi's personal supervision, several military clerks used ropes to precisely measure out a square acre of land.

Then, one hundred of the strongest soldiers, having removed their cumbersome armor and wearing only their undergarments, rushed into the enclosed area.

They strictly followed Wang Ben's instructions and began digging with their hands, using the most primitive methods.

No one complained, and no one felt that this damaged their dignity as elite soldiers of the Qin Dynasty.

Their movements were as devout as if they were on a pilgrimage.

Ying Zheng, Li Si, Xia Wuqie, and everyone else stood on the edge of the field, watching quietly.

Time passed little by little.

When the last soldier crawled out of the field, a small mountain of potatoes had been piled up in that acre of land.

Meng Yi directed his men to begin weighing the items using the military's standard steelyard.

Wang Ben nervously rubbed his hands together, muttering to himself.

"We absolutely must have 5,000 jin (2,500 kg), we absolutely must have it..."

The weighing process was slow, but no one rushed them.

A clerk held a piece of linen and quickly wrote down every number with a charcoal pencil.

Finally, the last basket of potatoes was weighed.

The clerk's hands began to tremble. He took the piece of hemp paper covered with numbers and scrambled to Meng Yi's side, his voice trembling.

"Your Excellency... you've... you've figured it out..."

"How many?"

Meng Yi snatched the hemp paper away.

Wang Ben also joined in.

Although Ying Zheng stood still, his body was taut like a bow.

When you see the final total number on the hemp paper.

Wang Ben's mouth opened wider and wider, until it was big enough to fit a fist.

Meng Yi's hands trembled violently; the light piece of hemp paper now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He slowly turned around to face Ying Zheng, his Adam's apple bobbing for a long time before he finally uttered a sound like a dream.

"His Majesty……"

"Not five thousand catties..."

"It is...it is 12,347 jin."

Twelve thousand catties!

These five words were like a thunderclap from the heavens, exploding above everyone's heads.

Xia Wuqie's eyes rolled back, his legs went weak, and he fainted on the spot with a "thud".

Ying Zheng froze completely.

He seemed to have all his strength drained away, and his body swayed.

What does 12,000 jin mean?

In Daqin, a family of three needs only the harvest of one mu of millet, about three or four hundred jin, for a year's food rations.

This one acre of potatoes is enough to feed them for thirty years!

Do not!

This stuff can be a staple food; one acre of land can feed a family for a year, with plenty to spare!

Ying Zheng's mind went blank.

In the fields, the soldiers who had just started digging fell into a deathly silence upon hearing the number.

Immediately afterwards, someone, I don't know who, was the first to burst into tears.

"Waaah... my mother... I watched my mother starve to death..."

A man with a face full of scars was holding a freshly dug potato and crying like a child.

"There's hope... our village is saved..."

"Thank God!"

The crying seemed contagious.

One hundred strong men wept uncontrollably.

They had all crawled out of piles of corpses, and wouldn't even flinch when a knife cut into their bodies, but at this moment, they were crying uncontrollably.

Because they had all been hungry.

They had all seen their relatives and fellow villagers collapse by the roadside because of a bite to eat.

Hunger is a sword hanging over the head of every citizen of the Qin Dynasty.

And now, the magical thing they dug out with their own hands, called "potato," tells them that they will never have to go hungry again.

The soldiers were acting like madmen.

They no longer needed orders and spontaneously rushed towards the wider fields.

They frantically dug at the soil with their hands and fingernails.

Even as fingernails flew off and blood gushed out, no one stopped.

Tears streamed down their faces, but smiles adorned their lips as they carefully cradled each potato as if it were their own child.

Clang!

A crisp sound broke the passionate and touching scene.

A young soldier, in his excitement, dropped his short sword, which landed squarely on a freshly dug potato.

The potato was split in half.

The young soldier's face turned pale instantly.

He stared blankly at the two halves of the potato, and then he remembered His Majesty the Emperor's third death order.

"Those who damage auspicious omens shall be executed!"

Fear overwhelmed him instantly.

He trembled as he picked up the short sword from the ground and, without the slightest hesitation, held it to his own neck.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty! I'm sorry, Great Qin!"

He roared and was about to wipe it off forcefully.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

A hand firmly grasped his wrist.

Zhang Ying walked over at some point, frowning as he looked at the soldier who was about to commit suicide.

"It's just a potato, it wasn't intentional, why are you making such a fuss?"

He snatched the short sword and threw it aside.

"Alright, don't waste time. There's still a large area over there waiting to be dug. I'll talk to Lao Ying about this, and I'll make sure you're fine."

The young soldier stared blankly at Zhang Ying, then at the split potato, and burst into tears again.

This scene was witnessed by Ying Zheng, who was not far away.

He looked at the soldier being comforted by Zhang Ying patting his back, and then at Zhang Ying's "it's no big deal" expression, feeling a mix of emotions.

Is this the benevolence of immortals?

What he considered a capital offense punishable by death was, in the master's eyes, nothing more than a trivial matter.

or……

In the man's eyes, this miraculous thing that yields 12,000 catties per mu is nothing special, so damaging one or two of them is no big deal.

This thought made Ying Zheng's heart pound wildly again.

He took a deep breath, spoke loudly, and his voice echoed throughout the field.

"Issue my new decree!"

"Auspicious omens are blessings from Heaven, but human power has its limits. Unless one deliberately damages them, one can be absolved of responsibility!"

All the soldiers stopped what they were doing and looked at their emperor, their faces filled with disbelief.

Ying Zheng ignored them and turned to Meng Yi beside him.

"Meng Qing, if potatoes are like this, then what about corn and rice?"

Li Si, who was slumped on the ground, finally came to his senses.

He looked at Zhang Ying, who was in the fields, gesturing to the soldiers about something, which drew bursts of laughter.

An unprecedented sense of crisis gripped his heart.