EES - Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Actually, accompanying Song Ling on an outing was a rare respite for Ji Wanshuang.

Or rather, it wasn't just the Ji Wanshuang persona getting a break; the Emperor Avatar counted too.

An Lin reflected carefully and realized it had been quite a while since her last palace stroll. For months, she'd been holed up within the palace walls, reviewing memorials and drilling in martial arts. Living there was twice as harsh as a prison sentence. Thus, she hoped to use this outing to scout out a few more promising talents.

Well... it certainly wasn't out of curiosity about how Song Ling would handle Liu Guanglin, nor any desire to sit in the front row and watch the drama unfold.

I am not that bored.

She mentally underscored that statement. When the appointed hour arrived the next day, she deftly changed into plain traveling clothes while maintaining Ji Wanshuang's identity, then departed Resting-Crane Hall alongside Song Ling.

Along the route, Song Ling's demeanor was oddly furtive and uneasy, though An Lin couldn't quite place why.

She had every right to exit the palace, and the guards along the route knew her face by now. Yet her nervous, skulking posture made her look deeply suspicious, prompting them to intercept and question her repeatedly.

"Just relax," An Lin said, offering a look of mild exasperation. "There's no need to carry yourself like a thief."

"Miss Ji," Song Ling murmured, "does His Majesty know we're out together? If he doesn't, will he be displeased that I brought you out without authorization?" Her anxiety deepened. They were out alone, with no attendants. Emperors typically possessed a fierce appetite for control, and Emperor Xuanming was notoriously omniscient.

What if they suddenly went dark? Would His Majesty assume the Empress was staging some melodramatic 'beloved fleeing the palace' plot: she runs, he pursues, and she'll never escape even with wings on her back? As a professional screenwriter, Song Ling's imagination promptly spiraled out of control.

"You're reading too much into it," An Lin replied evenly. "He already knows."

Besides, they weren't entirely alone. Shadow Guards trailed discreetly in the periphery, an arrangement An Lin suspected Wang Xiuwen had orchestrated after anticipating her preferences.

That eased Song Ling's nerves, just slightly.

Though most government offices observed their scheduled rest days today, the Bureau of Agriculture did not.

Consequently, when Song Ling slipped out of the palace gates before first light, she didn't head straight for the tavern where Liu Guanglin had reserved a table. It wouldn't be open yet. Instead, she led Ji Wanshuang directly to the Bureau of Agriculture.

The Bureau's official farmlands lay in the outskirts of Qiong'an. It was a considerable walk from the palace. Given the vast acreage, the area supported numerous farming laborers, along with various agricultural officers who had settled nearby to cut down on travel time. Over time, a modest village had naturally grown up around the fields.

Beyond the village, the plains unfolded in sweeping plots of cultivated land, enclosed by wooden palings nearly shoulder-high. An Lin surveyed the layout and gave a quiet nod of approval.

This was merely the Qiong'an district's share. As anyone knew, climatic differences across the realm meant the Bureau's seed-breeding plots were distributed widely. Every prefecture, commandery, and county maintained its own official fields. Confiscated estates typically became either military farms or state-run plots: for instance, the two hundred odd mu of unregistered land seized from the wealthy Cai family in Linfang had been temporarily converted into local official farmland.

Before leaving, An Lin had equipped the Ji Wanshuang avatar with an official pass granting unrestricted access to all ministries. Entering the Bureau of Agriculture posed no obstacle whatsoever.

Inside, the grounds were neatly partitioned into distinct plots. Waterlogged paddies bordered the irrigation channels, while drier terraces grew upland rice. Sesame, soybeans, and a variety of leafy greens filled the remaining sections. Many crops bore names unfamiliar even to An Lin, requiring identification via the small wooden markers staked beside each plot.

In short, while yield volume might not rival the largest private estates, the diversity of cultivars here was unmatched.

Junior agricultural officers, clad in simple farmer's attire and wide-brimmed bamboo hats, moved through the rows weeding and inspecting the crops' progress.

After exchanging a few words with Ji Wanshuang, Song Ling turned to her duties. Adjusting her sun hat, she approached a dark-complexioned middle-aged officer, requested his ledger, reviewed the latest entries, and began discussing adjustments with animated gestures.

An Lin drifted closer and caught Song Ling's voice. "Crops are like people: they can't survive on a monotonous diet. Our fertilizer sources mustn't rely on just one type either, Director. Did you present His Majesty's review on our previous proposal to systematically collect human waste for compost? If the court approves the public latrine initiative, alongside the campaign to incentivize household pig farming for stable manure, nitrogen supply should stabilize."

"I've already submitted a memorial on the matter," the officer (addressed as the Director of Agriculture) replied. He showed no condescension toward Song Ling for being a woman or having gained her post through imperial favor. Instead, he asked earnestly, "Regarding your earlier proposal on the nitrogen-phosphorus-potassium triad: I grasp the nitrogen component. What exactly constitutes the phosphorus and potassium fractions?"

"Wood ash, bone meal, decaying shellfish, fish scales, crab carapaces, even human and livestock hair and nails all serve as excellent phosphorus and potassium sources," Song Ling replied without hesitation, clearly well-prepared. "Xuan lies in the southern maritime zone. Coastal communities depend heavily on fishing. We could establish centralized collection hubs to gather discarded shells and offal, process them into fertilizer, and distribute them inland."

"So bone meal functions as the phosphorus and potassium component," the Director mused. "This N-P-K classification is certainly clearer than traditional categories like compost cakes, crop residues, or bone ash. However, as you noted, excessive application of any fertilizer causes damage. Is there a measurable threshold for safe application rates?"

Song Ling's confident explanation faltered.

"That... that would require extensive field trials to determine. I can't simply conjure precise ratios out of thin air..." she admitted quietly.

The Director chuckled, weathered creases spreading across his dark complexion. He carried none of the polished demeanor of a court bureaucrat; he looked exactly like a seasoned peasant who had spent his life bent over the soil. "No rush. Trial and error is how knowledge grows. You've already done the community a tremendous service, Official Song."

An Lin's eyes flickered over the Director's simulated statistics.

Relative to her Gold-Tier Ministers, his numbers were decidedly average, and several metrics ran notably low.

Yet witnessing his respectful curiosity toward Song Ling, and the earnest dedication he applied to mastering these techniques, who could deny he was an exceptional agricultural officer?

An Lin's expression softened. While the two women conferred, she wandered over to a plot's edge, crouched, and pinched a handful of soil between her fingers. It felt cool, damp, and crumbly. She glanced at the marker staked beside it: "Sesame".

Beyond that single plot, the surrounding official lands spanned roughly a hundred mu dedicated entirely to sesame. Even now, laborers were scattering seed by hand; late spring and early summer marked the optimal planting window. Soybeans occupied a smaller parcel, approximately fifty mu.

"May I inspect the Bureau's oil-pressing equipment?" An Lin asked after a brief survey.

The Director turned, surprise flashing across his face. "...Pardon me. And you are?"

"Inspecting Bureau operations on His Majesty's behalf." An Lin didn't hesitate to invoke the throne, presenting her pass. The Director verified the seal, offered no objection, and simply turned to Song Ling. "Official Song, please escort this visitor to the oil mill."

"Yes, sir!"

Song Ling immediately took the lead, guiding An Lin toward the oil mill.

Upon reaching the mill, the rich aroma of sesame oil hung heavy in the air. Stepping inside, An Lin quickly identified the current pressing apparatus: a rudimentary lever system powered by a heavy stone roller. It was a basic mechanical press, and its notoriously low extraction yield explained why sesame cultivation vastly outpaced soybeans.

Traditional cold-pressing yielded barely ten percent oil from soybeans, whereas sesame reliably delivered forty to fifty percent.

The leftover cake retained far too much trapped oil, compounded by the fact that the press itself was wooden, its grain permanently saturated with grease.

To boost output, the machinery needed modernization.

New schematics instantly populated An Lin's mind. After a moment's consideration, she turned back to Song Ling and offered a bright, expectant smile.

"Song Ling, don't you agree this oil press desperately needs an upgrade?"

"...Pardon?"

A primal shiver ran down Song Ling's spine.

By the time her duties concluded, Song Ling's steps were unsteady as she exited alongside An Lin.

Having been thoroughly drained of her remaining agronomic knowledge by the relentless questioning of both the Empress and the Director, she felt utterly hollowed out, moving like a sleepwalker. It wasn't until she'd put considerable distance between herself and the Bureau that she remembered her original objective.

Ambush him in a burlap sack. Right. And that poem thief!

At the thought of her wronged idol, the exhausted Song Ling rallied her strength. Flanked by the martially formidable Empress (who radiated an overwhelming sense of safety) she hurried toward the tavern where Liu Guanglin had secured a reservation.

It was already late afternoon. Fearing she'd miss the appointment, Song Ling had practically jogged the entire distance, pushing herself to keep pace.

Fortunately, upon her arrival, Liu Guanglin was still seated.

Unlike Song Ling, who had never met Liu Guanglin in person, An Lin recognized him from the Palace Examination. Her gaze swept the tavern's second floor and landed on him: he was dining with a strikingly beautiful young woman.

"Your target's upstairs," she said, gesturing casually.

Song Ling followed her gaze. Spotting Liu Guanglin on the second floor, she froze for a heartbeat before boiling with indignation. "Unbelievable! Why does a cad like him get to dine with such a lovely lady?"

...Was that really her primary concern?

An Lin offered no comment on Song Ling's misplaced priorities. Instead, she narrowed her eyes slightly, peering past the window frame toward the young woman seated across from Liu Guanglin. The simulator's interface resolved clearly above the woman's head.

[Wen Yiqiu (One of the Twin Beauties of Zhaozhou)

Governance: 30 | Military: 5 | Learning: 74 | Martial Strength: 10 | Politics: 40 | Management: 66 | Ambition: 50 | Loyalty: 20 | Mood: 87 | Prestige: 520]

Oh? A scholar with notably high academic aptitude?

Beside her, Song Ling continued to glare daggers at Liu Guanglin's smug grin, grinding her teeth as she wondered aloud which poor soul could possibly develop feelings for such a brazen rogue.

An Lin broke the silence calmly. "That young lady seems familiar... Have you heard of Wen Yiqiu?"

The moment the name left An Lin's lips, Song Ling went completely rigid.

Her pupils dilated in sheer shock.

"He... he doesn't just plagiarize poetry... Does he also covet other men's wives?!"

Get instant access to all chapters now.

Previous Table of Contents Next