"Several thousand jin per mu... save the world and its people... merit for this age, benefits for a thousand autumns... no more famine in the Realm... a treasure of the nation..."
In the main hall of the Northern Pacification Office's Government Office, Shen Fa carefully read Yang Ge's handwritten letter for the third time, picking one lavish compliment after another out of handwriting that looked like a dog had crawled across the page. Though he still could not quite understand why Yang Ge valued this foreign coarse crop called the "sweet potato" so highly, he was already deeply shaken.
In all the years he had known Yang Ge, he had never seen him praise anyone or anything so highly. Those pretty little turns of phrase were almost good enough to win him first place in the imperial examinations!
Compared with the disdain that lazy loafer showed him every time they met, finding fault with his nose and eyes alike, this Chen Zhenlong and his sweet potatoes...
Seething with resentment, Shen Fa put down Yang Ge's letter and raised his hand to slam it on the desk, ready to demand what bewitching potion Chen Zhenlong, who stood waiting below, had fed Yang Ge. But just before his palm landed, an image of Yang Ge standing with his arms folded and sneering flashed before his eyes. His heart shuddered, and the hand that had been about to strike heavily settled soundlessly onto the desk.
"Master Chen..."
He forced out a smile, but it looked ferocious.
Already anxious, Chen Zhenlong nearly jumped out of his skin. He hastily clasped his hands and bowed. "My lord, you overwhelm me. I am only a commoner, unworthy of such courtesy from an earl."
Shen Fa gently exhaled, raised a hand toward him, and said warmly, "There