Chapter 8: The Art of Papermaking and the Method of Iron Smelting

"Young Master... are you speaking the truth?" Li Si was trembling from head to toe.

The others were equally stunned.

Eight thousand jin per mu!

What an astonishing figure!

Only Ying Yinman looked confused. "How much is eight thousand jin? And how big is a mu? How does it compare to my sleeping chambers?"

Having lived in the palace since birth, surrounded by luxury, she truly possessed the innocence of one who does not know the hardships of the common people.

"Sister Yinman, I always tell you to study, but you never listen."

Ying Ziji sighed helplessly and explained with ease, "One shi is one hundred and twenty jin, and this backyard of mine is about one and a half mu."

His youthful voice left the men stunned once more.

"This thing... can it really produce eight thousand jin per mu?"

Wang Jian, as if holding a priceless treasure, carefully wiped the clods of dirt from his hands with his robes.

At this time, rice did not yet exist. The crops grown in the Great Qin were primarily millet and sorghum. Even with meticulous care, one mu would only yield about one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy jin. And that was only if the heavens were kind and there were no disasters or blights. In a bad year, there would be no harvest at all. The famine in the northern border was caused by such disasters.

Eight thousand jin per mu...

It was a number they dared not even dream of.

Seeing their disbelief, and even the disappointment in their eyes as they looked at him, Ying Ziji said helplessly:

"I have already mentioned this to Father, though I did not provide the specific figures, only saying that it could resolve the grain crisis in the northern border."

"Furthermore, verifying this is simple. We shall plant one mu first; by the time of the harvest, Father will have returned and will see the results for himself."

These potatoes were a genetically superior variety provided by the system; eight thousand jin per mu was no exaggeration. If they expanded the planting area and harvested two cycles, famine would simply cease to exist. That was why Ying Ziji dared to make such bold claims in public.

...

When Fusu left Ying Ziji's residence, his heart felt heavy.

Everything that happened tonight had truly overturned the perceptions he had held for over twenty years.

Eight thousand jin of food per mu!

How staggering that was.

Compared to his little seventeenth brother, he felt like a joke. Along the way, he even forgot how he returned to his own quarters.

"Your Highness, Crown Prince, what is the matter?"

"Did the attempt to persuade the seventeenth prince not go well?"

The speaker wore a Confucian robe and a look of concern. It was Chunyu Yue, a former scholar of the Qi State and the current Libationer of the Great Qin. He was one of the prominent figures of the Confucian school in the imperial court, and he was usually the one who guided Fusu step by step.

"Master Chun, why has Father been distancing himself from me lately?" Fusu asked, as if possessed.

"This..." Chunyu Yue was startled. He hesitated for a moment, then said with a troubled expression, "How could someone like me possibly fathom the Emperor's thoughts?"

"Sigh." Fusu let out a long sigh.

He suddenly had the feeling that he had been played for a fool by the Confucian scholars all along.

"What is wrong with Prince Fusu?"

"Was he not sent to persuade the young master? Why has he returned looking so like a stranger?" Chunyu Yue was at a loss.

Just then, a cold voice came from behind.

"Doctor Chun, I will give you a piece of advice: do not provoke the seventeenth brother. He is not someone you can afford to offend."

Even the form of address had changed; Chunyu Yue's heart sank even further.

...

After sending the others away, the residence grew quiet once more.

Ying Ziji clapped his small hands and washed up. Today, besides showing the potatoes to the pillars of the Great Qin, he also intended to use this to wake Fusu up. If nothing else, the self-destructive tactics of the Confucian school were surprisingly numerous.

In a few days, it would be Ying Zheng's birthday, and that was when Chunyu Yue would commit a catastrophic mistake. At the banquet, he would request that the First Emperor restore the Zhou rites and implement the enfeoffment system, and he would loudly propagate this among the common people. This was not a suggestion; it was an ultimatum!

Consequently, the First Emperor would be enraged, leading to the burning of books and the burying of scholars—an event that would be condemned by future generations for thousands of years.

"Confucianism... it truly causes endless harm."

As he thought this, Ying Ziji climbed into bed.

[Your words and actions have influenced Fusu, causing him to suddenly awaken. The national fortune has increased, and you are rewarded with papermaking.]

[Your potatoes have shocked Li Si, Wang Jian, and Meng Tian. The high officials of Qin admire you greatly. The national fortune has increased, and you are rewarded with: The Method of Iron Smelting.]

Ying Ziji paused in surprise.

Papermaking?

Iron smelting?

In this era, these two were absolute treasures!

The Great Qin's iron smelting techniques were quite backward. Even if they occasionally forged a fine sword, it would fall into the hands of noble families. If they could elevate their weaponry by a grade, the Great Qin's army would be invincible! It would also greatly reduce casualties in the conquest of the Xiongnu!

And papermaking!

If this were made public, it would surely lead to a frenzy! Most of the current writing was recorded on bamboo slips, with the occasional sheepskin scroll, but that was far too extravagant. With paper, all the poor scholars in the world would be able to read. The barrier of knowledge would no longer be a hurdle to their advancement. If given time... they could even initiate imperial examinations to select talent!

"Printing won't be difficult; I just need to carve a template..." Ying Ziji lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He already had a plan in mind.

...

A few days later, early in the morning.

"Papermaking materials... reeds, bamboo..."

Ying Ziji slung a small bag over his shoulder and asked someone for a sickle. He hopped along, intending to head out.

"Young Master, there is a court session today. You are..."

Seeing Ying Ziji's attire, Yu Huatian offered a reminder.

"Oh, I'm not going! Steward Yu, you lead the way; I have more important things to do."

Ying Ziji waved his small hand and boarded the carriage. Paper was a divine tool for the literary arts and was of great significance to the spread of knowledge. How could a court session be more important than papermaking? Naturally, he slipped away.

"Little Master, we have received news that Zhang Liang has been captured and is being escorted to Xianyang today."

"Hmm, keep an eye on him for me. Just make sure he doesn't die."

According to the historical trajectory, Zhang Liang should have successfully escaped after his assassination attempt and was never caught. But this time, they were rounded up in one go, which was quite strange. Of course, that was not something Ying Ziji needed to worry about.

Before long, Ying Ziji drove the carriage to the reed marshes outside the city. It was autumn, and the tall reeds had all withered—perfect material for making paper. The Embroidered Uniform Guards dispersed into the vast marsh, each holding a sickle to begin harvesting. If the Guards could be used to monitor officials, they could certainly cut grass as well.

By the riverbank, Ying Ziji crouched down and began cutting away with his small body.

Meanwhile, the imperial court was already in an uproar, as news of the First Emperor's assassination attempt had arrived.

...

Xianyang. The Qilin Hall was in session.

Upon learning that Ying Zheng had been attacked, the entire court was in a state of shock.

"Is this the work of the remnants of the Six States? This person is bold beyond measure and deserves to be executed!"

"Indeed, as long as the remnants of the Six States exist, there is no guarantee there won't be a next time."

"I say we round up all the nobility of the Six States and slaughter them all!"

"That is unwise. The nobility of the Six States are numerous, and there are still remnants of their armies. If we kill them all, I fear it will trigger a revolt."

"Regardless, this Zhang Liang must die! And his entire clan must be wiped out!"

Zhang Liang?

Among the officials, Li Si frowned. Back in the Han State, he and Han Fei were fellow students. Zhang Liang's father and grandfather had both served as Prime Ministers of Han; he was certainly a noble of the old Han, and Li Si knew him. He never expected to hear that name again in such a manner.

Li Si sighed, his expression complex. The laws of Qin were strict, and treason was a capital offense. Although they knew each other, it was just that—an acquaintance. Even if his own son had rebelled, Li Si would not dare to be associated with it in the slightest.

"Does the Right Prime Minister recognize this assassin?"

Feng Quji, standing in front of Li Si, noticed his strange expression and asked with a frown.

"I do recognize him. He is a noble of the former Han State. After the fall of Han, his whereabouts were unknown." Li Si nodded, not hiding the truth.

"A grudge for a fallen nation... that is a motive for assassination. It is only natural that the Right Prime Minister, being from Han as well, would know him." Feng Quji said nothing more. Although he had never gotten along with Li Si, it was mostly due to Li Si's humble origins; he knew the man had nothing to do with this matter, so there was no political capital to be gained here. When it came to dealing with the rebellious remnants of the Six States, no other thoughts could be tolerated.

"Young Master... why hasn't he arrived?"

Looking at the sundial, Meng Tian and Wang Jian felt puzzled. Today was an important court session, and a major event like the assassination attempt on the First Emperor had occurred, yet the young master was late?