They did not approve of Fu Zeyu pursuing those miracles.
In their eyes, those things did not exist. They were false.
Besides, it was so dangerous outside. He absolutely could not go.
The old gentleman fell silent for a while, then sighed. "It's only a hope. Perhaps... I saw wrong back then."
That single glimpse had made him persist for an entire lifetime.
"Hahaha, now that this young brother has joined us, as long as we can grow crops with higher yields, we'll have a way to survive. We old men may not have many years left to live, but we still have children and grandchildren waiting to be fed."
Absolute Boundary said, "Rather than improving them, it would be better to find crops that already yield more. Even the highest-yielding crops you have only produce two hundred jin per mu. Wheat, millet, and rice—all of them are not high-yield crops, and they are extremely dependent on the climate."
"Instead of researching these, find something that can yield over five hundred jin per mu even when planted casually."
"Five hundred jin?" The little old men were all dumbfounded.
They had worked hard researching these crops only in hopes of increasing yields by thirty to fifty percent over the original basis. In their minds, that was already an enormous leap.
Yet this man was talking about doubling it right away.
"Where are we supposed to find such crops? Anything that can yield so much would have to be immortal grain, wouldn't it?"
Fu Zeyu propped up his chin.
What era was this, anyway? Had sweet potatoes and potatoes not yet been introduced?
Sweet potatoes were truly excellent. The leaves could be eaten, the tubers could be eaten, and they were abundant, filling, and kept hunger at bay.
Potatoes were good too.