Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

As early summer arrived, the sun shone brightly and generously, pouring down unreservedly onto the newly cultivated fields inside and outside Xinghuobao. The second crop of potatoes, planted last autumn and winter and hailed as a "miracle grain from the Western Regions," was now being harvested on a large scale for the first time on this land. The air was filled with the distinctive pungent smell of freshly turned soil, and an increasingly intense, indescribable excitement and anticipation.

Half a month before the harvest, Zhao Tiezhu, like the most astute old farmer, spent almost every day in the fields, observing the seemingly ordinary green leaves and stems. When the plants began to wither naturally and the underground tubers stopped swelling, he couldn't wait to gather the managers of each village and experienced old farmers to announce the start of the harvest.

The order to harvest was like a stone thrown into calm water, but it stirred up a tidal wave of enthusiasm. Almost no mobilization was needed; all the manpower that could be temporarily drawn from building the city, training, and other labor—including laborers from the naturalization camp, some prisoners from the "re-education camp" who had performed well and were allowed to participate in collective labor, and even teenagers who had been given "farm leave" from school—carried all sorts of farm tools and flocked to the designated potato fields.

Chen Xing, along with Murong Mingyue, Wu Xuejiu, and others, arrived at the edge of the largest demonstration field in Dongtun. The terrain here was relatively flat, the soil had been improved, and the management was the most meticulous. Zhao Tiezhu personally led a team of the most experienced farmers to be responsible for the "first harvest" of this field, both to determine the yield and to provide standard procedures for subsequent harvests.

"Lord of the Fortress, watch closely!" Zhao Tiezhu's voice boomed, filled with barely suppressed excitement. He took a deep breath, picked up a specially made, wide, flat, and exceptionally sharp shovel, aimed it at the base of a completely withered potato plant, forcefully shoveled it at an angle, and then carefully pried it open.

The soil was turned over, revealing the tangled roots underneath, and... yellow tubers of varying sizes, covered in fresh soil! Some were as big as an adult's fist, while others were as big as an egg, densely clustered around the roots.

"They're out! They're out!" A hushed gasp erupted from the surrounding crowd. Despite being mentally prepared, the sight of so many large tubers being dug out from under a single plant was still incredibly visually impactful for most of the ancients who had never seen potatoes before.

Zhao Tiezhu carefully brushed away the soil with his hands, picking out each potato and placing it into the wicker basket beside him. His movements were gentle, as if he were handling some fragile treasure. Soon, the first potato plant was harvested, and a thick layer of potatoes filled the bottom of the basket.

"Quick! Weigh it! Weigh it!" someone shouted impatiently.

The clerk from the household registration office, who was prepared in advance, brought over a large, calibrated scale. Zhao Tiezhu poured the basket of potatoes into the scale pan. Under the tense gaze of everyone, the scale tilted high.

"One plant... weighing four catties and seven ounces!" The clerk's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"Four catties and seven ounces!" This number spread quickly, causing an even greater commotion. According to traditional millet and wheat harvests, it was considered good if a single crop could produce a few ounces of grain; this potato plant could produce several catties of edible produce!

"Keep going! Dig up a few more and see!" Although Chen Xing had expected this, he couldn't hide his excitement at this moment.

Zhao Tiezhu and the farmers worked with even greater enthusiasm, digging up ten plants in a row and weighing them one by one. The smallest plant weighed over three jin (approximately 1.5 kg), while the largest weighed over five jin (approximately 2.5 kg). On average, the yield per plant was consistently over four jin (approximately 2 catties). Furthermore, the planting density in this demonstration field, through careful planning, exceeded two thousand plants per mu (approximately 0.067 hectares).

Simple multiplication quickly calculates in people's minds, yielding a dizzying number: the yield per mu... could exceed eight thousand jin! Or even higher!

"My God...is this...is this really food from the gods?" An old farmer with a full head of white hair, who had farmed all his life, tremblingly picked up a muddy potato, tears welling in his cloudy old eyes. "I've lived for seventy years, and I've never seen...never seen land grow so well! One acre of land, could it feed ten people for a year?"

"More than ten mouths! We need to make sure everyone has a full meal every day!" someone nearby excitedly chimed in.

The news spread like wildfire, accompanied by baskets and carts of golden potatoes being unearthed from the soil, quickly sweeping across the entire Xinghuobao controlled area. Every harvest site transformed into a sea of ​​joy and awe. Women and children squatted along the field ridges, deftly sorting the dug potatoes by size, filling larger baskets or piling them directly on spread-out straw mats. The able-bodied men toiled, shovel after shovel, seemingly with inexhaustible strength, each unearthing a cluster of abundant potatoes eliciting heartfelt praise and laughter. Even the previously numb prisoners of the "re-education camps," staring at the mountains of food, had a blank, incomprehensible glint in their eyes—they had never seen such a bountiful harvest in their lives.

In Dongtun, Nanshaoying, and the newly reclaimed areas surrounding the main fort, busy figures and small mountains of potatoes were everywhere. Vehicles and horses shuttled back and forth on the roads, transporting the harvested potatoes to newly built, specially reinforced, and moisture-proof large granaries. The granary managers were extremely busy, directing their staff to stack the potatoes in layers, leaving ventilation gaps in between, and sprinkling dry straw and wood ash to prevent insects and moisture.

Production statistics were being compiled intensively. Several days later, a preliminary summary report was placed on Chen Xing's desk. Although the yields on some newly reclaimed land were slightly lower, the overall average yield of potatoes per mu (a Chinese unit of area, approximately 0.067 hectares) for the second season reached an astonishing 6,500 jin (a Chinese unit of weight, approximately 0.33 hectares)! The total potato harvest, converted into millet, was enough to feed the entire population for more than a year, with a large surplus available for feeding livestock, exchanging goods, and even as a strategic reserve!

"The food crisis is completely over." Wu Xuejiu's hands trembled slightly as he held the report. This usually composed old gentleman was now beaming with excitement. "Lord of the Fortress! With this divine food, the foundation of our Starfire Fortress is as solid as a rock! With the people's hearts at ease, there will be no more worries about famine!"

Chen Wei also remarked with emotion, "Upon hearing this news, the soldiers in the army were all overjoyed. Only with ample food can soldiers train effectively; with provisions at home, there is no fear. This is the foundation of a strong army!"

Murong Mingyue had witnessed firsthand the devastation that could wipe out grassland tribes from a single natural disaster or drought, and she knew all too well the importance of food in uniting people's hearts. At this moment, her gaze toward Chen Xing was filled with admiration and a complex mix of emotions that were difficult to describe. What he brought was not only victory and order, but also this almost miraculous "knowledge" that made the land burst forth with astonishing vitality.

Zhao Tiezhu was overjoyed, telling everyone he met, "I told you long ago, anything the fortress lord brings out must be good! Look! Look at this mountain of potatoes! From now on, the people of Xinghuo Fortress will never have to worry about going hungry again!"

The joy of a bountiful harvest was most directly reflected on the faces and in the hearts of ordinary residents. Many newly surrendered refugees, still harboring anxieties, finally cast aside their last doubts. A place where people could have enough to eat was paradise! They began to truly regard Xinghuo Fort as their home, a place where they could entrust their lives and future. In the streets and alleys, people no longer talked about their past hardships and fears about the future, but rather about "how many potatoes your family received," "how they plan to eat them," and "whether they should apply to plant a couple more acres next year." A sense of security, abundance, and hope, like the warm air of early summer, permeated every corner.

Chen Xing naturally wouldn't let this opportunity pass. He ordered that, in addition to the basic food rations, all residents of the fort be given an extra batch of potatoes as a "harvest bonus" based on the "Merit Order" and family size. Under official supervision, some of these potatoes could be exchanged in the nascent market to further stimulate the economy.

At the same time, he instructed Wu Xuejiu and Li Shu to organize manpower to widely publicize the bumper harvest, linking the "potato as divine food" with concepts such as "the benevolence of the Xinghuo Fortress Lord," "the protection of Xinghuo Fortress's laws," and "Han and Hu working together in agriculture." Through schools, lectures, and even simple folk songs, he aimed to strengthen the people's sense of belonging and identity. He also emphasized that news of the harvest should be selectively disseminated through trade channels and intelligence networks—both to demonstrate strength and attract more refugees, and to serve as an invisible deterrent to potential enemies: a power with such abundant provisions could not be easily shaken.

Mountains of golden potatoes were carefully stored in sturdy granaries. As the granaries gradually filled, the soldiers on guard stood even straighter, their patrol steps more powerful. In the workshops, the sounds of craftsmen hammering iron and making tools seemed to become more cheerful and rhythmic. In the schools, as children recited the poem "Sow a grain of millet in spring, reap ten thousand grains in autumn," what likely came to mind was that real, golden mountain of potatoes.

In chaotic times, what could provide more reassurance and strength than seeing, touching, and possessing such a vast amount of food with one's own eyes? The hearts of the people of Xinghuobao, after the bloody battle of Wild Wolf Slope, experienced another intense surge and calm amidst this unprecedented harvest, becoming more united and fervent than ever before. Their worship and trust in Chen Xing reached a new height.

Standing on the newly built section of the fortress wall, looking down at the constant flow of people and vehicles in the granary area and the figures still finishing up in the fields in the distance, Chen Xing said softly to Murong Mingyue beside him, "Now, we truly have the confidence to deal with any storm. The wall is being built, the grain is plentiful, and the people's hearts are at our disposal."

Murong Mingyue nodded, gazing at the golden fields bathed in the setting sun and the wisps of smoke rising from the fortress, and said softly, "This scene is beautiful. It brings a sense of peace and hope even more than the most fertile summer pastures on the grasslands."

Yes, hope. The golden potatoes, like countless plump seeds, not only filled the granary but also planted a firm belief in a prosperous and peaceful future in everyone's heart. This weighty hope brought by the harvest will become Xinghuo Fortress's strongest spiritual armor and most abundant source of strength as it faces the even more severe challenges to come.