That essay, “On Enriching the People,” was quietly placed on the Emperor’s desk one drizzly afternoon.
The one who placed it there was Xiao Shengrui, but the one who instigated it was Lin Moqian—not Lin Zhaoye.
After his younger brother’s examination fiasco, this shrewd eldest son of the Lin family had been thinking it over. It would be a pity if his younger sister’s essay were buried and forgotten. Since even Yang Wanli had looked at her differently because of an essay, why not let someone higher up see it?
So he had made a fair copy in neat, beautiful handwriting, deliberately omitting the author’s name, and asked Xiao Shengrui to “present it to His Majesty for his perusal, as the humble opinion of a common scholar.”
When Xiao Shengrui took the essay, he glanced at the opening and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Eldest Master Lin,” he said, “was this essay really written by a ‘common scholar’?”
Lin Moqian’s expression didn’t waver: “If the Seventh Prince says it is, then it is. If he says it isn’t, then it isn’t.”
The two exchanged a knowing smile.
The essay arrived on the imperial desk.
At first, the Emperor didn’t pay it much attention—the memorials and essays that crossed his desk daily were piled mountain-high; he didn’t have time to read every one carefully.
But that afternoon, his head was spinning from reviewing memorials, and he wanted a change of pace. He casually picked up the topmost essay.
The title read: “On Enriching the People.”
The opening line: “The people are the foundation of the state; when the foundation is strong, the state is at peace. Yet today’s measures to enrich the people mostly involve tax exemptions and opening granaries—these are emergency measures, not long-term solutions. For lasting stability, one must…”
Hm. Interesting.
The Emperor sat up straighter.
As he read on, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
The essay started with agriculture and proposed the “Three Pillars Strategy”: first, the soil—improve the land and enhance its fertility; second, the seeds—select and breed superior varieties to increase yields; third, the people—train agricultural technicians and promote scientific farming. Each point was backed by solid data and came with specific implementation steps.
For example, on improving soil, the essay recommended promoting “rice-fish symbiosis” in Jiangnan’s paddy fields—raising fish in rice paddies, where the fish eat pests and their waste fertilizes the fields, yielding a double harvest from a single field. This alone could increase per-acre yields by twenty percent.
On breeding better seeds, the essay mentioned a method called “hybridization,” combining the strengths of different varieties to cultivate disease-resistant, high-yield new strains. It even included a simple diagram of the hybridization process—the Emperor didn’t fully understand it, but it looked convincing.
The most brilliant part was the final section on “agricultural policy reform.” It proposed setting up “agricultural schools” in every prefecture and county, selecting experienced farmers as teachers to spread advanced farming techniques. It also suggested establishing “seed banks” to stockpile good seeds in bountiful years and distribute them in lean years, preventing post-disaster shortages.
From start to finish, the essay was detailed, well-organized, and balanced between theory and practicality. The writing style was plain, without ornate flourishes—clearly the work of someone who got things done.
“Excellent essay!” The Emperor slammed the table and stood up, startling the attendant eunuch beside him.
He flipped to the last page to see the author’s name—there was none.
But the Emperor suddenly smiled: “This girl… she really doesn’t rest, does she?”
He set the essay down and said to the eunuch: “Summon the Jiahe Country Lady to the palace. Right away.”
— —
When the summons arrived, Lin Shuying was in the greenhouse studying the newly acquired “Golden Honey Melon” seeds.
Hearing that the Emperor wanted her urgently, her heart gave a jolt—she’d been doing well lately, hadn’t she?
She quickly changed into her Country Lady’s formal attire and followed the imperial eunuch into the palace.
On the way, she tried to probe: “Eunuch, do you know why His Majesty has summoned me?”
The eunuch smiled: “You’ll know when you get there, Country Lady. It’s good news.”
Good news?
Lin Shuying only grew more nervous.
Arriving at the Imperial Study, she was announced and let in.
The Emperor was alone in the study, standing with his hands behind his back, looking at the map of Great Liang hanging on the wall. Hearing footsteps, he turned around, a smile on his face.
“Jiahe Country Lady Lin Shuying pays respects to Your Majesty.” Lin Shuying bowed.
“Rise.” The Emperor walked over to the desk and picked up the essay. “Did you write this?”
Lin Shuying looked up and understood—so it was about this.
“It was just a casual practice piece I wrote in my spare time,” she admitted frankly. “If there are any improprieties, I beg Your Majesty’s correction.”
“Improprieties?” The Emperor laughed. “If this essay is improper, then half the memorials from the civil and military officials could be burned.”
He walked up to Lin Shuying and looked her up and down: “Girl, tell me—where did these ideas come from? Rice-fish symbiosis? Hybrid breeding? And these agricultural schools… I’ve never heard of them before.”
Lin Shuying was prepared: “Your Majesty, since childhood I have loved reading all kinds of books. The Lin family library has some agricultural texts from previous dynasties, as well as some rare books from the Western Regions and the Southern Seas. Some of these methods I read in books; others I worked out myself. I have tried them all at my estate, and they are indeed effective.”
“You’ve tried them all?” The Emperor raised an eyebrow. “You have rice-fish symbiosis at your estate?”
“Yes.” Lin Shuying nodded. “I tried it in a pond next to my estate. In one acre of pond water, I raised a hundred fish. Their waste fertilized the rice, and they ate the pests—the rice did indeed grow better.”
“And hybridization?”
“I tried that too.” Lin Shuying kept her expression steady. “Using different watermelon varieties, I cross-bred and cultivated the ‘Honey Treasure Watermelon’—the one currently growing at my estate. It’s high in sweetness and low in seeds.”
The Emperor stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly asked: “Lin girl, if I were to appoint you to an official post, would you be willing?”
Lin Shuying was taken aback.
An official post?
A woman?
“Your Majesty is joking,” she said, lowering her head. “I am but a woman—how could I qualify for office?”
“If I say you qualify, then you qualify.” The Emperor said seriously. “With talents like yours, it would be a pity to confine you to the inner quarters. I can specially establish a position—’Female Official of the Directorate of Agriculture’—and you would fill it. The rank wouldn’t be high—sixth grade—but you could participate in agricultural policy discussions and promote your methods.”
The temptation was immense.
But Lin Shuying thought for a moment, then shook her head: “I thank Your Majesty for your kindness. But… that is not where my heart lies.”
“Oh?” The Emperor raised an eyebrow. “Where does your heart lie, then?”
Lin Shuying lifted her head, her eyes clear: “I wish only to grow a few more acres of good land for Your Majesty, and to breed a few more fine crop varieties. Matters of major agricultural policy should be planned by the wise and capable in court. I can do my part by testing these methods on my own estate and proving that they work.”
She spoke with sincerity.
It wasn’t feigned modesty—she truly meant it.
In her previous life at the agricultural research institute, she had also spent more time in the experimental fields than in the office.
In this life, with the Wood Spirit Root at her disposal, she preferred to work with her own hands.
The Emperor looked at her for a long while, then sighed.
“What a pity,” he said. “If you were a man, I would surely give you an important post.”
Lin Shuying smiled: “Your Majesty, a woman can also share your burdens. Though I cannot join the court, I can be out in the fields, cultivating fine seeds and promoting agricultural techniques for you. That is more practical than sitting in a government office.”
Her words were down-to-earth, and the Emperor laughed.
“You’re right,” he nodded. “Then I’ll allow you to continue farming your land. However…”
He paused, giving her a knowing look: “I hear the Seventh Son frequently visits your estate?”
Lin Shuying’s heart leaped.
Here it comes.
“The Seventh Prince does come often,” she said calmly. “His Highness is interested in agricultural matters. He often brings new seeds for me, and shares information about farming conditions from various regions.”
“Just interested in agriculture?” The Emperor said meaningfully. “I hear that every time he goes, he stays for half a day or more? And I also hear that when you were in Jiangnan, he stayed by your side for three days when you were ill?”
Lin Shuying’s face grew warm.
How did the Emperor know all this so clearly?
“Your Majesty,” she said, steeling herself, “His Highness is kind-hearted and concerned about my hard work…”
“Alright, alright,” the Emperor waved his hand with a laugh. “Stop with the formalities with me. Let me ask you just one thing—if I were to betroth the Seventh Son to you, would you be willing?”
Lin Shuying’s mind went blank.
Betroth who to whom?
Though she had vaguely sensed Xiao Shengrui’s feelings, being asked so directly by the Emperor was still overwhelming.
The attendant eunuch beside him also coughed lightly to remind His Majesty: “Your Majesty, the Seventh Prince is the Empress’s most beloved child—betroth him to the Jiahe Country Lady?”
Leave a Reply