The eighth day of the fourth month—an auspicious day for moving, breaking ground, and opening for business.
North of the city, at the border of the imperial estate.
The fifty-acre experimental plot lay quietly under the spring sunlight.
The field ridges were crooked and uneven, overgrown with weeds, and in the distance, a few dilapidated thatched huts swayed precariously in the wind—altogether a scene of utter desolation.
Yet Lin Shuying’s eyes sparkled as she looked at it.
“Miss, this land…” A-Gua followed behind her, his face etched with worry, “can anything even grow here?”
“Yes.” Lin Shuying crouched down, scooped up a handful of soil, and rubbed it between her fingers.
The soil was sandy—not ideal, but far from the worst.
The key was that this plot faced the sun, had a gentle slope, and should have good drainage—which was absolutely crucial for watermelons.
Watermelons feared waterlogging; if their roots soaked for more than twelve hours, they would rot. So a well-drained slope was the best choice.
She stood up, brushed the dirt off her hands, and turned to look at the other side.
That was the estate her eldest brother Lin Moqian had just purchased.
To call it an estate was perhaps an understatement—it was more like a small manor.
The three-courtyard house was built against a hill, with white walls and black tiles, upturned eaves and corners—a classic Jiangnan garden-style residence.
Behind the house were over a dozen acres of good farmland, and further back was a fruit orchard, currently blooming with pink-and-white apricot blossoms.
Best of all, a small creek flowed past the east side of the house, its water so clear you could see the bottom.
Her brother had already arranged for a waterwheel to be built by the creek, so irrigation water could be drawn directly.
“How is it?” Lin Moqian walked over with a smile. “Satisfied?”
Lin Shuying nodded emphatically: “More than satisfied! Thank you, Brother!”
“Family—no need for thanks.” Lin Moqian waved his hand. “I’ve already had the house cleaned and furnished—all new furniture, and the greenhouse and ice cellar are built to your specifications. I also picked twenty hired laborers for you—all honest, steady farming folk—along with an old forester named Chen, who’s farmed for forty years and has plenty of experience.”
He paused, looking at the barren experimental plot: “But these fifty acres… are you really going to handle them yourself?”
“Yes.” Lin Shuying nodded. “The land His Majesty granted me—I have to tend it personally. But don’t worry, Brother—I have a plan.”
She pulled a small notebook from her sleeve and opened it for Lin Moqian to see.
The notebook contained a detailed layout plan.
Which plot would grow watermelons, which would grow muskmelons, and which would be reserved as a test plot—all clearly marked.
Beside it was a timeline: prepare the soil and fertilize in April, sow seeds in early May, transplant seedlings in June, fertilize and train the vines in July, and harvest the first batch of melons in August…
Lin Moqian marveled as he read: “Where did you learn all this?”
“I read it in books and worked it out myself.” Afraid her brother might press further, Lin Shuying quickly changed the subject. “Oh, and Brother, I also need some things: bean cakes, bone meal, and plant ash for base fertilizer. And fine sand to mix into the soil to improve its structure. Also, we’ll need to set up bamboo trellises—watermelons need to climb…”
She rattled off over a dozen items in one breath, and Lin Moqian quickly called over the steward to jot them all down.
“Three days,” Lin Moqian told the steward, “have everything the Second Miss needs ready within three days.”
“Yes, Eldest Young Master.”
— —
After making these arrangements, Lin Moqian showed Lin Shuying around the house.
The front courtyard contained the main reception hall, a study, and the greenhouse.
The middle courtyard was the living quarters, with three rooms on each of the east and west wings. Lin Shuying would take the east wing, while A Li, A-Gua, and Nurse Lin would stay in the west wing.
The rear courtyard contained the kitchen, storerooms, and servants’ quarters.
In the greenhouse, the “treasures” Lin Shuying had cultivated at the Lin residence had already been moved over: Jade Dew strawberry seedlings, a few young plants grown from “cucumber” seeds she’d acquired from a Western Region merchant, and tomato seedlings she’d secretly optimized using her Wood Spirit Root.
This crop didn’t yet exist in Great Liang—she had obtained the seeds from a foreign merchant, who called them “ruby gems.”
“Miss,” A Li ran out of the house, beaming with excitement, “your room is all ready—come see!”
Lin Shuying followed her into the east wing.
The room wasn’t large, but it was arranged with great comfort.
By the window stood a rosewood desk, neatly laid out with the four treasures of the study and that stack of agricultural books.
Opposite it stood a carved canopy bed, draped with pale green gauze curtains.
The most unusual touch was that instead of the usual landscape or flower-and-bird paintings, the wall bore a Chart of Farming Seasons.
Lin Shuying had drawn it herself—marking which crops to grow and what farm work to do during each of the year’s twenty-four solar terms, complete with simple sketches beside the entries.
Lin Moqian’s mouth twitched as he looked around: “Shuying, this room of yours…”
“What about it?” Lin Shuying looked perfectly at ease. “I think it’s great.”
“It’s great, alright—it just doesn’t look much like a lady’s chamber.” Lin Moqian sighed helplessly. “Ah, well—as long as you’re happy.”
After touring the house, Lin Shuying went to meet the staff assigned to her.
The twenty hired laborers stood in two rows—all sturdy men in their twenties and thirties, with sun-darkened skin and calloused hands, clearly accustomed to years of farm work.
Leading them was Forester Chen, a man in his fifties with a stooped back but sharp, shrewd eyes.
“Uncle Chen,” Lin Shuying said politely, “from now on, I’ll be relying on you to look after these fields.”
Forester Chen quickly bowed: “You flatter me, Second Miss. I will give it my all.”
“Then let me tell you my plans.” Lin Shuying wasted no time, pointing directly at the experimental plot. “I want to grow watermelons on this land. But not just any watermelons—I want watermelons that are big, sweet, and have few seeds.”
The laborers exchanged bewildered looks, and one bold soul couldn’t help but speak up: “Second Miss, what watermelon has few seeds? The things are full of them.”
“Exactly why we need to grow ones with fewer seeds.” Lin Shuying smiled. “I’ve already found good seeds, and with special cultivation methods, it should work.”
She then laid out the specific plan: first, deep-plow the land thoroughly and clear out weeds and stones.
Then apply two hundred catties of bean cake, fifty catties of bone meal, and one hundred catties of plant ash per acre as base fertilizer.
For land preparation, they would build raised ridges—four feet wide, with furrows one foot deep for good drainage…
She spoke with such authority that the laborers, initially skeptical, gradually turned astonished.
Could this Second Miss actually know a thing or two about farming?
After finishing her instructions, dusk had already fallen.
Lin Moqian had to return to the city, but before leaving, he reminded her: “Shuying, even though His Majesty has permitted you to farm, you’re still a young lady—don’t overwork yourself. If there’s something to be done, just let Uncle Chen and the others handle it. You only need to give directions.”
“I know, Brother.”
After seeing Lin Moqian off, Lin Shuying returned to the house.
Nurse Lin had already prepared dinner: four dishes and a soup—simple home-style cooking, but made with fresh vegetables from the estate, and especially fragrant.
During the meal, A-Gua said excitedly: “Miss, I just went to the village and heard that people tried growing watermelons on this land before—but the harvest was poor, the melons were small and not sweet. The villagers all say the land is no good.”
“The land is dead; people are alive.” Lin Shuying picked up a piece of greens with her chopsticks. “If the land isn’t good, improve it. If the melons aren’t sweet, improve them. There are always more solutions than problems.”
A Li asked curiously: “Miss, are you really confident you can grow good melons?”
Lin Shuying thought for a moment, then said seriously: “Thirty percent is fate; seventy percent is hard work.”
Actually, she was ninety percent confident.
With her past-life knowledge plus the Wood Spirit Root, it would be a wonder if she didn’t grow good melons.
But she couldn’t sound too overconfident—always leave some room.
After dinner, Lin Shuying didn’t hurry to rest but went to the study instead.
Brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were already laid out on the desk.
She picked up the brush and began writing a detailed planting plan.
As she wrote, she suddenly remembered something and took out the packet of “Honey Treasure Watermelon” seeds Xiao Shengrui had given her from the drawer.
The seeds were glossy black and plump—clearly carefully selected.
She picked one up and held it in her palm. The seed was brimming with vitality, with a germination rate likely above ninety percent.
The genetic traits were stable, sweetness high, seeds few…
It was a fine variety—but it could be even better.
She planned to start with a batch of seedlings tomorrow to test things out.
Just as she was tidying up, a “tap-tap” came from outside the window.
Lin Shuying paused, walked to the window, and pushed it open—and sure enough, Xiao Shengrui was there again.
The young man wasn’t wearing night clothes tonight, but a moon-white casual robe, the jade pendant at his waist gleaming softly in the moonlight.
He carried a small bamboo basket in his hand and passed it through the window.
“A housewarming gift.”
Lin Shuying took the basket and lifted the cloth covering it—inside were several exquisite pastries, along with a small jar of… wine?
“This is…”
“Green plum wine, brewed by my mother,” Xiao Shengrui said with a smile. “She said since you’re moving to a new place, a practical gift was in order. The pastries are from the imperial kitchen, and the wine will ward off the chill—spring nights are still cold.”
A warmth spread through Lin Shuying’s heart: “Thank you, Your Highness. And please thank the Empress for me as well.”
“Mm.” Xiao Shengrui acknowledged but didn’t leave—instead, he looked at her. “Are you really going to live here?”
“Really.”
“Not going back?”
“I’ll go back to see my parents, of course—but I’ll spend most of my time here.”
Xiao Shengrui was silent for a moment, then suddenly said: “Can I come often?”
Lin Shuying was taken aback.
“What I mean is,” Xiao Shengrui added, “the Listening Wind Pavilion often gets agricultural news, as well as new and interesting seeds and cultivation methods from all over. If you’re willing, I can bring them to you.”
Lin Shuying smiled: “Of course I’m willing. Come anytime, Your Highness—the estate’s gates will always be open for you.”
Xiao Shengrui nodded, and it seemed a faint smile appeared on his face as well.
But the moonlight was too dim for Lin Shuying to see clearly.
“Oh, and,” he remembered something, “Fifth Brother heard you moved out and threw a fuss, wanting to come too. But the Consort wouldn’t allow it—said his studies are too poor and he needs to focus on his books in the palace.”
Lin Shuying imagined Xiao Shenglan throwing a tantrum and couldn’t help but laugh: “He must have been furious.”
“Broken three inkstones,” Xiao Shengrui said flatly. “But Mother promised that if he places in the top three on his monthly exam, she’ll let him stay for three days.”
“Then that’s probably not happening.” Lin Shuying knew her nephew well. “He’d be lucky to make the top ten.”
They chatted a little longer, and then Xiao Shengrui took his leave.
He didn’t leave through the front gate—he climbed over the wall again, moving with a dexterity that didn’t seem fitting for a twelve-year-old.
Lin Shuying stood at the window, watching his figure disappear into the night, feeling a sudden swell of emotion.
Xiao Shengrui was the person outside her family she had the most contact with.
He didn’t talk much, but he was always thoughtful—everything he sent was exactly what she needed most.
Sometimes she even felt that he understood what she needed better than she did herself.
She shook her head and stopped dwelling on it.
She closed the window, returned to her desk, and continued writing her plans.
— —
Late at night, in the quiet stillness, the occasional bark of a dog came from outside the estate, while the distant village lights twinkled like scattered stars.
After writing her final note, Lin Shuying set down her brush and stretched.
A new life was truly about to begin.
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, she got up and changed into a simple, practical dress, combing her hair into a single bun tied tightly with a cloth band—looking clean and capable.
A Li and A-Gua were also up early, one preparing breakfast and the other sweeping the front courtyard.
After breakfast, Lin Shuying led Forester Chen and the laborers out to the fields.
The first task was the field-offering ritual.
It was an old farming tradition—before planting in spring, one must pay respects to the God of the Soil, praying for favorable weather and a bountiful harvest.
Though Lin Shuying didn’t believe in such things, she followed local custom, preparing incense, candles, and offerings, and led everyone in a simple ceremony.
Afterward, she stood on the field ridge, looking at the barren land before her, and cleared her throat: “From today on, this land is ours. I know the harvests here have been poor in the past, and you may all be uncertain. But I’m telling you this—”
She paused, raising her voice: “As long as everyone follows my instructions, I guarantee that this autumn, the melons from this land will be the biggest and sweetest in all of Jinling! And when that happens, your wages will double, and each of you will get ten big watermelons—so you can taste the fruits of your own labor!”
The laborers’ eyes all lit up.
Double wages? And watermelons on top of that?
“Does the Second Miss mean that?” someone asked.
“I mean it.” Lin Shuying was resolute. “If I go back on my word, go ahead and complain to my father at the Lin residence.”
At that, everyone burst into laughter, and the atmosphere immediately lightened.
“Alright,” Lin Shuying clapped her hands, “now let’s get to work! First task—turn the soil!”
Twenty laborers, plus Forester Chen—twenty-one hoes swung up simultaneously.
“Heave-ho—heave-ho—” The rhythmic chants rang out across the fields, startling the birds from the distant woods.
Lin Shuying didn’t just stand by either.
She rolled up her sleeves, picked up a small hoe, and joined the team turning the soil.
A Li tried to stop her, but Lin Shuying waved her off: “Don’t try to talk me out of it—I need to see for myself exactly what condition this soil is in.”
With one strike of the hoe, the earth turned over.
She scooped up a handful and examined it closely: it was indeed sandy, but with some clay mixed in—should be decent with a few improvements.
She dug deeper, and when she reached about a foot down, there was suddenly a clang—the hoe had struck something.
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