My Imperial Advisor is ChatGPT

Chapter 112 The Returning Fleet: A Potato Feast

Langya Port was the largest deep-water port in the Qin Empire.

This place is a logistics hub with an astonishing throughput on ordinary days, where huge steam cranes roar day and night, hoisting crates of silk, porcelain, and glass onto merchant ships bound for Rome and Parthia.

But today, the entire port is shrouded in an eerie silence.

All the large cranes stopped operating, and thousands of dockworkers, Black Ice Guards maintaining order, and civil and military officials who had come specifically for this purpose all stared intently at the horizon.

There, a fleet is returning.

But this fleet is completely different from the mighty army you imagine, with "banners covering the sky and masts like a forest".

"Is...is that a boat?"

Standing at the very front, Zhang Han, the Junior Minister of the Imperial Household Department, held up a monocular telescope (a high-magnification version specially made by the Qin Academy of Optimus Prime), his voice trembling slightly.

In the footage, there are three "ghost ships" that look like they just crawled out of hell.

The once majestic, black steel armor was now covered in reddish-brown rust and strange barnacles. One of the massive paddle wheels had completely broken off, leaving only half of its bare bearing spinning aimlessly in the sea breeze. The canvas had long since been reduced to shreds, hanging on the mast like a beggar's tattered clothes.

The worst off was the flagship "Qin Shi Huang," whose smokestack was half-crooked and whose hull was even stuck with several huge, unidentified white bone spikes of sea monsters.

"When they set out, there were twenty giant ships and eight thousand elite troops..." Prime Minister Li Si stood behind Ying Zheng, his voice choked with emotion, his abacus hands unable to move. "And all that returned were these three wrecked ships?"

Ying Zheng stood with his hands behind his back on the high viewing platform overlooking the sea. The sea breeze blew his black dragon robe, making it flutter loudly.

His face betrayed no emotion, but only Little G, who was always in his mind, knew that at this moment, the First Emperor's heart rate had soared to 120.

"Brother Zheng, don't panic." Little G's voice, though still possessing a synthesized calmness, betrayed a slight unease. "As long as one ship returns, as long as it brings back one seed, this deal will be a windfall."

"It's not that I'm stingy with money," Ying Zheng's voice was deep. "Han Xin is on the ship. He's my military genius. If he dies, I'd rather not have those potatoes."

Finally, the three dilapidated giant ships, towed by steam tugboats, laboriously made their way to shore.

"boom……"

The moment the springboard was lowered, a cloud of dust rose up.

There was no orderly formation, nor any deafening slogans. A group of people, dressed in rags, with unshaven beards, many of them even using canes, walked down, supporting each other.

Leading the way was a man who was so thin he was almost unrecognizable. His skin was tanned to a bronze color by the tropical sun, and his once-fitting armor now hung loosely on his body, like it was on a clothes hanger.

But his eyes were frighteningly bright.

That was Han Xin.

He wasn't carrying any weapon; instead, he was tightly clutching a filthy wooden box. The box was covered in oilcloth, and he held it close to his chest as if it were his life.

Han Xin walked up to Ying Zheng and tried to give a standard military salute, but he was too weak and his knees buckled, causing him to kneel down.

"Your Majesty..." Han Xin's voice was hoarse and rough, like sandpaper rubbing against rust, "Your subject has fortunately fulfilled his mission."

"It's good that you're back." Ying Zheng walked down from the high platform and put his hand on Han Xin's thin, bony shoulder. This emperor, who rarely showed his emotions, had slightly red eyes at this moment. "Even if you came back empty-handed, you are still my meritorious subject."

"No, Your Majesty."

Han Xin grinned, revealing a smile that was more like a grimace. His hands trembled as he untied the oilcloth from the wooden box he was carrying.

"What I brought back was not empty-handed, but the future of Great Qin."

The lid of the box is opened.

There were no glittering jewels, no priceless spices.

Inside lay a pile of ugly, pitted, yellowish-brown lumps covered in mud.

Li Si leaned closer for a look, his expectant expression instantly freezing into incredulous disappointment: "This...this is what we got in exchange for the deaths of five thousand brothers? A box of...mud?"

"This is no mud, Your Excellency." Han Xin took out a "clod of earth" from the box, his eyes burning with the fervor of someone looking at a stunning beauty. "This is—a divine object that will ensure no one in the world ever goes hungry again."

Xianyang Palace, Imperial Kitchen.

The atmosphere here is even more tense than in the Ministry of Justice prison.

Dozens of top imperial chefs stood around a pile of washed potatoes and a few golden corncobs, knives in hand, but hesitated to make a move.

"This thing...is it really edible?"

The head chef of the imperial kitchen wiped the cold sweat from his brow, looking at the potato on the cutting board that resembled a pebble. "It looks so ugly, and it was dug out of the ground. Could it be poisonous?"

"Chancellor Wang Jianguo said this is called a potato, scientifically known as Solanum tuberosum." A young eunuch beside him, holding a copy of "The New World Food Processing Manual (First Edition)," read aloud with trembling hands, "Attention! Sprouted potatoes cannot be eaten! Green potatoes cannot be eaten! They are highly poisonous! Eating them will kill you!"

"Highly poisonous?!"

The portly chef's hand trembled, and he nearly dropped the cleaver. "My goodness!" he cried. "Are we cooking for His Majesty, or poisoning him?"

At that moment, a soft, high-pitched voice came from inside.

"Get out of the way! You bunch of bumpkins who've never seen anything like this before!"

Zhao Gao strode in wearing a specially made "gas-proof apron" and a thick mask.

As the "Rubber King" and "Royal Poison Tester" of the Qin Dynasty (forced into it), Zhao Gao now has a heroic spirit of facing death for everything new.

"I'll handle this." Zhao Gao picked up a potato, weighed it in his hand, and said, "Chancellor Wang instructed that this thing needs to be peeled. The peel contains solanine, which is a poison that prevents insects from eating it in the soil."

Zhao Gao skillfully picked up the peeler and, with a few quick strokes, peeled the potato clean, revealing the pale yellow flesh inside.

"Cut it into pieces! Is that... that 'beef brisket' ready?" Zhao Gao commanded.

"Ready! It's all the best tenderloin cut from Qin Chuan beef!"

"Put it in the pot! Stew it!" Zhao Gao waved his hand. "And that 'corn' on the cob, don't chop it up! Chief Minister Wang said to boil it whole! That's the pleasure of 'gnawing' on it!"

Under Xiao G's remote technical guidance, the first pot of "stewed beef with potatoes" in Da Qin began to bubble and simmer in the pot.

As time went by, a strange and unprecedented aroma began to permeate the imperial kitchen.

It wasn't just the aroma of meat; it was a blend of the creamy texture of starch, the richness of fat, and a unique earthy fragrance.

The chubby chef sniffed, and his stomach growled involuntarily, "My lord... this poison... smells strangely fragrant."

Although Zhao Gao was also drooling with envy, he still put on a righteous and awe-inspiring demeanor: "I will try it first! If I fall ill, remember to tell His Majesty that I sacrificed myself for the agriculture of Qin!"

He picked up a piece of stewed potato that was cooked until tender, blew on it, and carefully put it in his mouth.

One second later.

Zhao Gao's eyes widened.

That soft, glutinous texture, soaked in the delicious beef broth, melts instantly on the tongue, slides down the throat into the stomach, bringing an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

This isn't poison. This is... happiness.

"Quickly!" Zhao Gao threw down his chopsticks, his fingers trembling with excitement. "Plate it up! Serve it up! This isn't potatoes, it's meat that grew right out of the ground!"

Inside the Qilin Hall, a special state banquet is underway.

There were no string and wind instruments, no singing and dancing. There was only a huge round table and dozens of important Qin officials sitting around it.

Ying Zheng sat in the main seat, with two plates in front of him.

One plate held a tempting, bright red stew of beef and potatoes, while the other plate held a golden-brown, boiled corn.

"This is what Han Xin brought back." Ying Zheng pointed to the plate. "Gentlemen, please start eating. This was brought back at the cost of eight thousand soldiers' lives."

Li Si stared at the ear of corn, somewhat bewildered. It looked like a spiked club, all kernels; was he really going to swallow the hard cob in the middle too?

"Prime Minister, look at me."

Ying Zheng picked up a corn cob, without any imperial airs, and simply held it by both ends with his hands, opened his mouth, and, like playing an accordion, began to nibble on a row from left to right with a "crunch crunch" sound.

"Brother Zheng, mind your image, be a little more refined," Little G couldn't help but complain.

"Refined my foot," Ying Zheng thought to himself. "This stuff tastes best when it's eaten like this."

Li Si, Zhang Han, and the others looked at each other in bewilderment, and then followed suit, grabbing corncobs and starting to eat them.

"Click, click..."

Suddenly, a chorus of sounds of people gnawing on corn filled the hall, like a group of squirrels eating.

"Sweet!" Li Si's eyes lit up. "Your Majesty, this stuff is actually sweet! And it's so juicy when you chew it, it's a million times tastier than millet!"

"Try this potato too," Wang Jianguo reminded him from the side. "This is the king of staple foods."

Ying Zheng picked up a piece of potato and put it in his mouth.

No chewing is needed; a gentle press of the tongue and the potato melts into a dense, creamy paste. It has a rich, satisfying texture. Unlike the blandness of rice or the smoothness of noodles, it has a strong, pervasive presence that says, "I'm filling you up."

Ying Zheng ate one piece, then another.

He didn't say anything, but just ate one bite after another until he finished all the potatoes and beef on the plate, and even used a steamed bun to dip the remaining soup into it.

After putting down his chopsticks, Ying Zheng let out a burp.

This feeling of fullness was unlike anything he had eaten in over forty years. It was an extremely solid sense of satisfaction that made him just want to lie down and sleep.

"Gentlemen," Ying Zheng looked around, "have you eaten your fill?"

"I'm full! I'm so full!" Zhang Han rubbed his stomach. "These potatoes didn't look big, but they're so filling! I only ate two, and I already feel like I'm stuffed to the throat."

"That's right."

Wang Jianguo stood up and walked to the center of the main hall. There stood a blackboard there.

"Gentlemen, the taste is just the surface." Wang Jianguo picked up the chalk and wrote a set of data on the blackboard. "What truly makes it a 'divine object' is this."

He wrote down two numbers: 3000, 5000.

"What is this?" Li Si asked.

"This is the yield per mu (unit of land area)." Wang Jianguo pushed up his glasses, his voice carrying a chilling calmness. "Based on our calculations in the experimental fields and the data we brought back from the New World, the yield of potatoes per mu can reach 3000 jin (a unit of weight) in barren land. In fertile land, with the addition of our fertilizers, the yield per mu can exceed 5000 jin."

Clang!

The corncob in Li Si's hand fell to the ground and rolled several times.

The main hall was deathly silent.

Everyone gaped, as if they had heard something out of the blue.

It's important to understand that in the Qin Dynasty, even the best paddy fields, grown with the finest rice, yielded only three to four hundred catties per mu. In years of famine, there was often no harvest at all.

"How...how much?" Yang Que, the Minister of Finance, stood up tremblingly. "Your Excellency, this is no joke! This is a crime of deceiving the Emperor!"

"I swear on my life," Wang Jianguo said, pointing to the remaining plate of potatoes. "Besides, it's not picky about the land. It can grow on hillsides, sandy soil, and even slightly saline soil. It has a short growing season, and you can harvest a crop every three months. If you plant it, as long as you're not lazy, you won't starve."

Yang Que suddenly covered his face and burst into tears.

"Waaah... If only I had this earlier... If only I had this earlier..."

He cried so hard that he was hoarse, completely disregarding court etiquette.

Because he was in charge of money and supplies. He knew all too well what the word "hunger" meant to the Qin Dynasty. Every year, he would calculate in his memorials where there was drought, how many people had starved to death, and where the granaries were empty.

That was a mountain weighing on his heart.

Today, this mountain was flattened by a few potatoes.

Ying Zheng remained seated in the main seat, quietly watching his weeping ministers and the remaining soup in the bowl.

"Little G," Ying Zheng whispered in his mind.

[Yes, Brother Zheng.]

"I swept across the land and destroyed the six kingdoms. At that time, I thought I had conquered the world."

Ying Zheng slowly stood up, walked to the entrance of the main hall, and looked at the dark night sky outside.

"Then you came. You told me that the world was vast, and that there was Rome and America. So I built trains and ships to conquer those even more distant places."

"But until today, until I ate this potato."

Ying Zheng's voice trembled slightly.

"Now I understand that my greatest enemy has never been the remnants of the six kingdoms, nor the Huns, nor Rome."

"It's 'hunger'."

"As long as the people are starving, my empire is built on sand. Why were Chen Sheng and Wu Guang able to shout 'Are kings and nobles born with a special destiny?' Because they were hungry!"

Ying Zheng turned around and looked at the court officials.

"Minister Wang."

"Your subject is here."

"From this day forward, all the exotic flowers and rare herbs in the royal gardens shall be uprooted for me!" Ying Zheng waved his hand. "Plant potatoes! Plant corn! I will turn the Epang Palace into the largest breeding base of the Qin Dynasty!"

"Issue the order: within three years, I will ensure that this 'divine grain' grows on every mountain and every inch of land in the Great Qin!"

"I will ensure that from this day forward, no one in this land, whether they are the old Qin people of Guanzhong, the remnants of the six states, or even the herdsmen of the grasslands, as long as they are subjects of Great Qin, will ever again starve to death!"

"Brother Zheng, you've just broken a curse." Little G's voice held unprecedented respect. "In my world, a man named Malthus said that population growth will always outpace food production, so humanity will never escape the cycle of famine and war."

But today, you used this potato to slap Malthus in the face. You forcibly removed the population cap from the Qin Dynasty.

"Malthus?" Ying Zheng sneered. "Let him come to Qin. I'll treat him to stewed beef with potatoes. I'll stuff him to death."

After the banquet, the officials dispersed.

Only Han Xin was spared.

He was still wearing that tattered armor, clutching the empty wooden box tightly in his arms.

"Han Xin." Ying Zheng walked up to him.

"His Majesty."

"The merit you've achieved this time is greater than destroying ten Chu states." Ying Zheng looked at him. "What reward do you want? A marquisate? Ten thousand gold pieces? Or do you want to be a great general?"

Han Xin shook his head.

"Your Majesty, I have been adrift at sea for three years. I have watched my brothers fall one by one, some dying in storms, some from scurvy, and some from poisoned arrows shot by the natives."

Han Xin's eyes became deep and weathered, no longer the eyes of a young man simply yearning for fame and fortune, but the eyes of an explorer who had seen the vastness of the world.

"When I was at sea, I often wondered, why did we travel so far? Was it for gold? Was it for killing?"

"Until just now, I saw Your Majesty and the Prime Minister eating corn, and I saw Yang Neishi crying."

Han Xin grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

"I think it was worth it."

"I do not want titles or gold," Han Xin said, pointing to the empty box. "I would like to ask Your Majesty to erect a monument for the five thousand brothers who did not return."

"It stands right here in Langya Port, facing the sea."

"Very well." Ying Zheng nodded emphatically. "I will personally write the inscriptions for their tombstones."

"Also," Han Xin scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly, "um...potato stew with beef, could I pack a portion to take home? My wife hasn't tried it yet."

Ying Zheng was stunned for a moment, then burst into a hearty laugh.

"Take it! Bring it all, pot and all!"

"Zhao Gao! Go and pack two more bags of raw potatoes for General Han! Tell him how to plant them!"

"promise!"

That night, the lights in Xianyang Palace remained lit all night long.

It was not for reviewing memorials, nor for planning war.

Instead, the Qin emperor and his ministers were gathered around the blackboard, excitedly planning their future "Potato Empire."

Li Si calculated: "With this thing, our population can quadruple! Quadruple! Then we'll have forty million... no, eighty million people! Eighty million people, one spit from each of them could drown Rome!"

Wang Jianguo's plan: "Corn stalks can be used to make silage for cattle and sheep; potatoes can be used to make starch, vermicelli, and even brew alcohol (vodka)! This is an entire industry chain!"

Meanwhile, Little G silently updated the Qin Dynasty's technology tree panel in Ying Zheng's mind.

In the "Agriculture" section, a golden icon slowly lit up.

It was a golden corn cob, with a line of small writing next to it:

The Age of Hunger: It's Over

[The Next Stage: Population Explosion and the Human Dividend of Industrialization]

Ying Zheng stood by the window, watching the first light of dawn appear on the horizon.

He was holding an uncooked potato in his hand, which he had secretly hidden in his sleeve.

"Little G".

【Um? 】

"Tell me, how will future generations judge me?"

They would say: Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of Qin, was a great emperor throughout history. He built the Great Wall and standardized the written language. Oh, and by the way, he was also the "Potato Emperor," the one who ensured that the Chinese people had a stable source of food.

Ying Zheng smiled. He thought that although the name "Potato Emperor" was a bit rustic, it sounded...reassuring.