The beginning of the story of the Tang Dynasty's Imperial Son-in-Law: A rhinoceros comes knocki

Chapter 101 Growing Well

Dazhuang's face flushed instantly, and he hurriedly scratched his head to explain, "I didn't mean the manor owner was lying, it was just my dad saying that in private!"

Wang Zhihuan chuckled upon hearing this, then gently bent a rice stalk and handed it to Dazhuang: "Look for yourself, count how many ears this stalk has."

Dazhuang leaned closer for a closer look and blurted out, "Nine ears of grain!"

"How many ears of ordinary millet does a single stalk produce?"

"At most one or two ears, most only have one ear."

How long are the rice ears?

Dazhuang raised his hand to measure the size: "A little over five inches."

"Where are the ears of corn?"

"Less than two inches."

"Based on this comparison, how much more grain do you think can be harvested per acre?"

Da Zhuang stared wide-eyed, head down, counting on his fingers as he meticulously calculated. His eyes widened with disbelief as he spoke: "That—"

"Can my family grow this rice next year?"

"sure."

Wang Zhihuan straightened up, patted the dust off his hands, and said, "We'll use the leftover rice seeds from this autumn harvest to spread them throughout the village."

Next year and the year after, any tenant farmer in the village who wants to plant can come and get seeds for free.

"That's great! Thank you, Master!" Da Zhuang grinned, revealing a set of uneven teeth, his eyes full of simple joy.

Old Zhang was grinning from ear to ear. He picked up his pipe and tapped the sole of his shoe, saying smugly, "I told you long ago that the breeds and methods chosen by the master are absolutely correct!"

Your father stubbornly insisted that these short-stalked rice plants wouldn't produce much grain, and now you see for yourself!

"My dad's old-fashioned; he doesn't understand these new methods," Da Zhuang said, scratching his head sheepishly.

"Your dad's brain is more stubborn than this hard soil up north!" Old Zhang joked, and the field was immediately filled with laughter.

Wang Zhi walked slowly along the paddy field ridges, inspecting the entire paddy field.

Except for the improved fields in the north where the rice plants are growing best, the rice paddies in other areas are also growing well, with strong plants and full ears of grain, and no diseases or withering.

Judging from how well they're growing, it won't be long before the autumn harvest begins.

He mentally recalculated the harvest again, still using the most conservative estimate.

After this autumn harvest, the village can expand its paddy fields by 200 mu, with a yield of 3 shi per mu, for a total harvest of 600 shi of grain.

After reserving enough rice seeds, the planting area can be expanded to at least 2,000 mu next year.

Two thousand acres of bountiful rice paddies, with grains piled up one stone at a time—just thinking about it stirs the heart.

He paused slightly, gazing into the distance.

My thoughts drifted further away involuntarily.

If this high-yield rice variety were planted in the vast Lantian County, the entire Guanzhong Plain, and even all the thousands of paddy fields across the country, how much more grain could be produced?

The locust plague of the second year of the Zhenguan era is still vivid in my memory.

The forty-seven counties in Guanzhong suffered a complete crop failure, with widespread famine and countless dead from starvation.

Emperor Taizong Li Shimin ascended the city tower and looked at the people kneeling and wailing in the fields. He was heartbroken and swallowed locusts in public, vowing to bear the disaster for the people.

At that time, the Tang Dynasty had just been stabilized, and the country was impoverished. A small plot of land yielded meager harvests, and after paying taxes, people could barely make ends meet. Once a disaster struck, people would be displaced and suffer greatly.

But now, one mu of Champa rice yields the equivalent of three mu of ordinary fertile land.

The same land can support two to three times more people.

If all the fertile fields in Guanzhong were planted with improved seeds, how many people could be saved from hunger and cold?

Those border towns abandoned due to food shortages can be garrisoned again to defend the land; those people displaced by famine can return to their hometowns to farm and settle down.

Such grand ambitions have long exceeded the bounds of a local landowner's duty.

He shouldn't have thought about it so much, but he just couldn't help thinking about it.

If this matter succeeds, it will benefit all people and bring peace to the nation, enough to earn a place in history and be praised by future generations.

Wang Zhihuan took a deep breath, suppressed the surging emotions in his heart, gathered his scattered thoughts, and returned to the field in front of him.

He bent down and squeezed the rice stalks; they felt firm and thick to the touch.

This rice variety has thick stems and deep roots, making it naturally resistant to wind and lodging, which is perfectly suited to the climate of Guanzhong, which is characterized by frequent autumn rains and strong winds.

If rice is caught in wind and rain during the grain-filling stage, large areas are prone to lodging, and once lodged, the harvest is almost completely lost.

The improved varieties he had were well-established and strong enough to withstand wind and rain.

Upon closer inspection, the rice leaves were a deep, glossy green, without any yellowing, disease spots, or withered tips.

This rice variety naturally possesses resistance to rice blast, and with the addition of high-quality seeds selected and optimized through a systematic process, it exhibits even stronger resistance and greater tolerance to harsh environments.

Since the beginning of summer this year, Guanzhong has experienced continuous rain. The millet in the neighboring fields has long been infected with rust disease, turning yellow and withered, but this rice field is lush and green, and completely undamaged.

"Old Zhang," Wang Zhihuan straightened up and instructed, "Water is needed during the grouting period, but it cannot accumulate. Pay close attention to the water level in the fields these days. Keep the water level in the ditches at ankle depth. Do not let the water accumulate too deep, lest the crops collapse after the rain."

"Ah! I've got it, Master!"

Old Zhang nodded repeatedly, and then exclaimed sincerely, "This rice is much easier to take care of than millet! Millet is delicate; it's afraid of drought, waterlogging, insects, and diseases. This rice, on the other hand, is very hardy and hardly needs any care."

"It's not that it's fearless, it's just that it has stronger resistance."

Wang Zhihuan slowly explained, "Just like people, some people catch a cold if they get caught in the rain, while others are unaffected by wind and rain and remain healthy. This rice variety is the latter."

Old Zhang clicked his tongue and nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite, but in his heart he was filled with sincere admiration.

"There's one more thing."

Wang Zhihuan pointed to the drainage ditch by the field, "Dig all the ditches half a foot deeper. The autumn flood season is coming soon, and there will be frequent heavy rains. If the ditches are too shallow and drainage is not timely, the fields will definitely be flooded and the crops will be damaged."

"I'll take some men to dig it up today!"

"You don't need to do all the work by yourself." Wang Zhihuan raised his hand to stop him. "Gather more tenants from the village to work together. Their wages will be settled as usual, not a penny less."

Old Zhang quickly waved his hand and declined, saying, "Master, you're being too polite! The paddy fields are the estate's fertile land, and the ditches are the foundation for protecting them. It's all our own business, how can we ask for extra wages!"

"I chose the rice variety, I decided on the land improvement, and I also gave the orders for the repair of the ditches."

Wang Zhihuan's expression was calm, but his tone left no room for refusal: "You will be rewarded for your efforts, and you will be paid every penny you are owed."

""

Seeing his determined expression, Old Zhang knew he couldn't persuade him otherwise, so he had no choice but to obediently agree.

Zhou Xia stood quietly by the edge of the field, her gaze distant and her expression blank, lost in thought.

Wang Zhi glanced at him sideways: "What are you thinking about, lost in thought?"

Zhou Xia slowly came back to his senses and replied softly, "This disciple was thinking about the principles that Master taught me in the past."

His eyes were clear and his tone was sincere: "My former master often said that a doctor should have a kind and benevolent heart."

Even if there's only a glimmer of hope for a patient, we must do everything we can to save them. I always keep this in mind.

During the time I followed my master to practice medicine, I have cured more than ten villagers.

I used to think that if I could save a few hundred patients in my lifetime, I would have lived a life that was not in vain and would not have betrayed my original intention of practicing medicine.

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