In addition to the head of Chen Guda himself, what was sent to the capital included the precious treasures of the Luonan and the noble figures from their state. Nominally, this was for “friendly exchanges” in Jianzhou, but to any discerning eye, it was clear that they were merely there as hostages.
At this sight, the officials in the court held their breath for a moment, especially those from the northern regions – where the population was large, aristocratic families were numerous, and various forces were intricately intertwined. Since ascending the throne, the emperor had yet to take action against this area. They had originally believed that the Sovereign harbored some apprehension, fearing that a true conflict might destabilize the foundation of the state. But upon witnessing General of Huairen’s formidable feat, cold sweat broke out on their backs.
This young emperor was utterly unafraid of trouble; she had both capability and resolve. During the late emperor’s reign, if Luonan had merely submitted a memorial requesting official recognition, it would have already been considered a great occasion for celebration. Now, despite their clear intention to surrender, the Sovereign still found a pretext to execute their nation’s ruler as easily as slaughtering a chicken or a pig, displaying his severed head as a warning to all.
The Emperor chuckled and said approvingly, “General of Huairen truly understands my intent.”
The recent campaign against Luonan was won with almost effortless ease. As everyone knew, the Emperor hadn’t even mobilized the rear camp’s troops; only the Chongchang division was deployed, and yet they completely turned the enemy’s world upside down.
In truth, Luonan was no insignificant petty state. Along the southern coast, it was actually considered a fairly major power. As the officials mentally assessed Luonan’s national strength, they realized that the Emperor’s actions were no longer about “killing a chicken to warn the monkeys” – this was “killing a monkey to warn the monkeys.”
If she could defeat Luonan in just a few months, she could naturally defeat any other country in just a few months as well.
The envoy from the Wuliu tribe discreetly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, feeling fortunate that his tribal leader had acted with relative prudence. Regardless of their covert actions, on the surface, they had never openly broken ties with the Great Zhou. He decided that when his turn came to step forward, he would heap on plenty of words of praise and flattery – just to keep the young emperor from perceiving any lack of reverence and sending troops to attack them.
After Xiao Xichi’s envoy withdrew, the protocol officer once again announced the next name. Another envoy from the southern region stepped forward into the hall to report a local auspicious omen:
“…An ancient stele was unearthed from the Kaijin River. Upon it were carved seal-script characters, forming the phrase: ‘Radiance shines with brilliant clarity (zhaoming); the gods bestow blessings and auspiciousness.'”
“Zhaoming” was the reign title personally chosen by the Sovereign. Its unexpected appearance on an ancient inscription would, to anyone unaware of how local officials curry favor with the ruler, likely be interpreted as a sign of the Great Zhou’s flourishing destiny.
The envoy spoke with such earnest sincerity that if Wen Yanran hadn’t long known that the Great Zhou’s fortunes were nearing their end, she might have actually felt her resolve waver.
After concluding his speech, the envoy respectfully bowed once more and withdrew. Song Wenshu shot him a few extra glances, recalling that the river the man had just mentioned was also one of the predetermined routes for the canal. Bringing it up at this moment inevitably drew attention to the Emperor’s large-scale conscription of labor from the eastern regions.
Regarding the Emperor’s plan to construct the canal, while no one in the court openly voiced opposition, it wasn’t as though everyone genuinely approved of it. Many seasoned and prudent ministers believed that now that the chaos across the realm had gradually subsided, it was precisely the time to reduce corvée labor and taxes, allowing the people to recuperate for a few years. The Sovereign’s ambition was commendable, but there was no need to rush things excessively. They feared that the recent military victories might have fostered a tendency in the emperor to crave grandeur and achievements – wouldn’t that jeopardize the excellent situation that had been achieved?
Among the most critical points was, naturally, that large-scale conscription of able-bodied young men would inevitably lead to a decline in grain production. Moreover, the mouths of so many laborers needed to be fed, which would also require a massive consumption of grain. If this came to pass, even the regions that had already stabilized would once again fall into turmoil.
Song Wenshu’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, though his expression betrayed nothing. After all, the emperor had agreed to first construct a section to assess the situation. If things truly turned out poorly, it wouldn’t be too late for him to submit a remonstration.
After several more envoys had come and gone, it was finally the turn of the envoy from Qing Province.
Qing Province was located in the southern part of the Great Zhou and was the base of the rear camp. Stepping forward, the envoy respectfully reported, “This year, following Your Majesty’s command, the officers and soldiers of the rear camp opened up wasteland and dug irrigation canals in the southern region. As a result, a bountiful harvest was achieved throughout the area, with each mu yielding two dan and three dou of rice…”
Before he could even finish speaking, the complexions of many in attendance changed simultaneously. Even a seasoned, composed minister like Song Wenshu nearly plucked out his own beard in shock.
Here, the unit “shi” carried dual meanings as both a unit of weight and a unit of capacity. Calculated according to current standards, one shi was approximately equivalent to 45 to 47 kg. Under normal circumstances, the yield of rice in the southern regions was around one shi and eight dou per mu.
That is to say, this year, grain production in the southern lands had increased by roughly 30 percent.
From the imperial dais, Wen Yanran’s gaze sharpened slightly – land reclamation was one thing, but why did they claim it was done on her orders? Had she ever actually instructed the rear camp to do such a thing?
The beaded curtain before the throne effectively concealed the Sovereign’s expression, preventing the ministers from catching the fleeting look of bewilderment that crossed her face.
Fortunately, aside from presenting the data, the envoy from Qing Province also lavished praise with an abundance of flattering words, allowing Wen Yanran to gradually piece together why the rear camp had claimed to be acting on her command.
Back then, when Wen Xun and the others followed her orders to deal with the oncomelania snails, they didn’t just stop at eliminating these tiny creatures. To ensure complete eradication, they directly set fire to the weeds in the marshes to generate high heat. At the same time, to prevent any chance of resurgence, they dug drainage ditches to empty the stagnant water from the wetlands. As a result, land that had previously been left idle could naturally be used for planting crops.
When harvest time came this year, they noticed something else: the crops grew even better in the areas where the weeds had been burned.
The Great Zhou had long begun using plant ash, but previously, it was mostly used for washing clothes rather than for farming. After privately researching the matter for some time, Wen Yanran finally realized where the crux of the issue lay – the common farm manure used nowadays was mostly composted from human and animal waste. When feces fermented, it turned weakly acidic, while plant ash was alkaline. If the two were mixed together, their fertilizing effects would actually neutralize each other. In the southern region, however, due to the need to prevent the spread of schistosome eggs, all such human waste had been disposed of, which inadvertently highlighted the effectiveness of plant ash on its own.
Wen Yanran: “…”
Something this significant had happened down south, and yet the system hadn’t even bothered to notify her.
Wen Yanran thought gloomily that while she could no longer halt the increase in grain production down south, the newly reclaimed lands were currently official fields. She planned to grant some of these fields to commoners and implement the policy of “taxes merged into one, based on land area” on these lands. This would inevitably create conflict with the local powerful families. Combined with the canal project, she had no doubt that she could stir up resentment against herself in the southern regions.
Wen Yanran mulled over her future work arrangements in her mind. Although the current situation could still be remedied, it most likely meant she would have to continue working overtime again…
The thoughts of the ministers in the hall were, naturally, completely different from those of the Emperor. An increase in grain production was an excellent thing. Having already witnessed the horrors of people being driven to destitution during the eastern rebellion, they naturally hoped the realm would continue to enjoy peace and stability.
Wang Qishi, seated behind Song Wenshu, privately mused that Her Majesty was truly blessed by heaven’s mandate; otherwise, how could her luck be so remarkably good?
After the favorable reports from the south had been presented one after another, it was finally the east’s turn.
In the aftermath of great battles, bandits often emerged. However, before they could cause any significant harm, Shi Zhuhe and his men had already successfully persuaded a large portion of them to surrender. The remaining diehard elements were mercilessly eradicated by their forces.
Shi Zhuhe was a man of humility. When submitting memorials to the throne, he habitually attributed much of the credit to the deputy generals at his side. He had frequently done the same while leading troops to suppress rebellions in the past. However, the current Sovereign possessed piercingly sharp judgment and would always, afterwards, bestow upon him rewards commensurate with his true contributions.
One by one, the envoys from the eastern region stepped forward. Finally, it was Cheng Province’s turn.
The envoy came forward into the hall, first bowed respectfully, and then reported, “This year, with the rebellion pacified, production has been revived. The yield of millet in the fields has reached nearly three shi per mu…”
Before he could finish, gasps of astonishment arose all around the hall. Clearly, many ministers were so shocked they could hardly contain their emotions.
In previous years, even in a good harvest season, the eastern lands could only yield about two shi of millet per mu.
“The reason for such an increase in yield is entirely due to Your Majesty’s decree: the government purchased the forage grass from the east at its original price and refrained from sending anyone to levy it.”
Upon hearing this, Wen Yanran’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and her mind became perfectly clear – now that the clue had been laid out for her, she naturally understood. Common forage grasses, such as purple alfalfa, are legumes, and the roots of leguminous plants have rhizobia that can fix nitrogen.
The fertilizers needed for crops can be roughly divided into three categories: nitrogen fertilizer, potash fertilizer, and phosphate fertilizer. The plant ash mentioned earlier was a source of potash, while leguminous plants provide nitrogen fertilizer, also known as green manure.
Wen Yanran took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. She sat quietly on the imperial dais, calmly composing herself.
Forage grass grows quickly. Planting a season of leguminous crops as fertilizer before growing food crops can effectively increase grain yields. Under normal circumstances, this could boost production by 20 to 30 percent. The current increase of 50 percent was also partly due to the previous instability in the eastern region, which had prevented the people from farming on schedule.
Nevertheless, regardless of the reasons, with grain production increasing so significantly in both regions, the Great Zhou would not face a major famine anytime soon.
In a corner of the hall, Ren Feihong gazed at the Sovereign, admiration welling up within her.
Her official rank was low, so she was not originally qualified to be present in the hall. However, since many officials in the court knew she was a favored figure in the emperor’s eyes, a seat had been specially arranged for Ren Feihong in Qianyuan Hall that day.
Ren Feihong’s position was not close to the Emperor. Looking towards the imperial dais, she felt that the Sovereign still appeared utterly unruffled – indeed, this too had evidently been part of the Emperor’s plan all along.
Before returning to the capital, she had heard the people in the eastern region mention that this year’s grain crops were growing well. At the time, she couldn’t help but feel skeptical, yet she dared not be certain – after all, no matter how intelligent the Sovereign was, how could she possibly understand agricultural matters so thoroughly? It was only today that she finally confirmed it.
Ren Feihong’s reasoning was sound and well-founded – if the situation in the east was merely a coincidence, then how could one explain the events in the south? Both regions had acted on the orders of the Sovereign, and both had achieved increased grain production as a result. Such an outcome could hardly be attributed to luck alone.
Moreover, back then, when she had inquired about the issue of grain consumption for the surrendered troops being relocated inland, the Emperor’s response had been, “It is of no concern.” If the Sovereign had not already made thorough arrangements and been certain that grain production in both regions would increase, how could she have been so indifferent to the food consumption required for the canal construction project?
Previously, when Dian Wue and his associates had chosen Cheng Province as the starting point for their rebellion, they had their reasons. Cheng Province was rich in fertile land. Even if only this single region increased its production, after accounting for normal consumption, it could still yield a considerable surplus of grain. After the court ministers had carefully calculated the accounts, they rose in unison to praise the Sovereign for her wisdom and martial prowess.
Wen Yanran: “…?”
What did any of this have to do with her? How exactly was she wise and mighty?
Wen Yanran leaned expressionlessly against the imperial dais, finding bitter amusement in the thought that at least she didn’t have to stand to receive the court’s congratulations today. Otherwise, she might have treated the ministers to an impromptu performance of “falling flat on one’s face out of utter despondency.”
The ministers, observing that the Emperor remained composed and solemn at this moment, showing no excessive excitement over the good news, simply felt that the Sovereign was truly steady and measured.
None of them even considered the possibility that Wen Yanran might be unhappy. After all, increased grain production and a prosperous populace were such excellent developments that even Emperor Li would have certainly rejoiced.
Wen Yanran gazed at the ministers below the steps, restraining the urge to press her temples. She reflected that this unfortunate situation had arisen because she still hadn’t been meticulous enough in reviewing memorials.
After all, she was the emperor, and there were simply too many matters demanding her attention each day. More often than not, she would casually utter a remark and then leave it to those below to handle as they saw fit. The matter of the forage grass in the eastern region had been no different. Wen Yanran had only intended to stabilize the area first, making it easier for her to consolidate power. Thus, she had implemented a few lenient policies – never anticipating that they would trigger such a chain reaction.
Although Wen Yanran had suffered a double blow from the situations in the south and east, thankfully, nothing unexpected occurred in the west and north. When the court audience finally concluded, the festivities moved on to the eagerly anticipated banquet phase – a segment most attendees were more than happy to partake in.
The imperial cuisine, while still a far cry from modern culinary standards, had noticeably improved compared to its earliest iterations. Everyone present seemed quite delighted – except for the Sovereign herself, who barely touched a few dishes, appearing somewhat listless.
Wen Jingmei noticed this and, surmising that the Emperor was likely exhausted, offered a gentle admonition. “Your Majesty, even as you devote yourself to matters of state, you must also take care of your own well-being.”
Hearing this, Wen Yanran set aside her tangled thoughts and offered a smile. “I appreciate your concern.” She then instructed the attendant beside her to pour her a cup of grape juice. “The State Preceptor does not drink alcohol either. Pour him some fruit juice as well.” Raising her goblet, she made a symbolic toast in his direction.
As the Emperor shared a toast with someone, the lively exchange of cups naturally intensified among those below.
Although Ren Feihong held a minor official position, her influence was far from insignificant. Hearing other ministers praise the Sovereign for being blessed by Heaven’s mandate, attributing the bountiful harvests in the Great Zhou to this fact, she shook her head and said, “It is more than that. The abundant grain harvests in the southeastern regions were all the result of the Emperor’s deliberate intent.”
Upon hearing this, the others suddenly understood – she was a close official of the Sovereign and had been sent to the east to suppress the rebellion, likely also participating in the subsequent restoration of production. If even she claimed it was by the emperor’s design, what room was left for doubt?
Those with even better sources of information added that they had indeed heard rumors of the Emperor once cultivating grains in the Western Yong Palace.
Although the ministers had no idea how the Emperor had come to understand agricultural matters or how she had orchestrated these arrangements, they had also been similarly baffled by her mastery of military affairs and mathematics in the past. It was hardly surprising anymore. They supposed there were simply some people in the world who possessed innate knowledge – and moreover, knew it with extraordinary comprehensiveness.
