The ultimate, unbeatable farming idiot

Far away in the ruins of the abandoned district, Cat Granny had clearly still overestimated Shingetsu. This girl knew absolutely nothing about farming and saw nothing remarkable about those seeds.

When Kazuko, astonished and delighted by the yield per mu, asked her where she had found such productive rice seeds, Shingetsu's first reaction was to ask foolishly in return:

"Isn't this just a normal yield?"

This farming novice's entire impression of rice came from harvest pictures she had seen online in her previous life. Farmers joyfully embraced heavy stalks of golden rice, their sun-darkened faces glowing with the happiness of a bountiful harvest. It had given her the mistaken impression that all rice in the world produced such abundant yields.

But that was not the case.

The rice developed in modern society produced yields unimaginable to the people of the shinobi world.

In the country where she had lived in her previous life, the yield per mu across two annual rice harvests had consistently ranged from nine hundred to a thousand jin, while hybrid rice, prized for its productivity, could reach fifteen hundred jin.

In the shinobi world, however, aside from the Land of Fire, where the temperature, climate, and terrain were suitable for two harvests a year, most regions still had only one. Their yields per mu were downright pitiful-even in the wealthiest Land of Fire, an annual harvest of three or four hundred jin was already considered good, provided the heavens cooperated with favorable weather.

Moreover, aside from its high yield, hybrid rice also had a shorter growing cycle and greater resilience, resisting pests, disease, drought, and low temperatures. The rice in the Land of Fire, by contrast, was extremely delicate and frequently suffered from disease and insect infestations.

As for the Land of Wind, where sandstorms swept across a country made entirely of desert... well, perhaps it was better not to mention it.

There were, of course, many reasons for this. Cultivating the highest-yielding hybrid rice in experimental fields was quite troublesome. It required not only plentiful fertilizer and water, but also manual transplanting, regular pesticide applications, manual weeding, and a specially tailored "precision fertilizer application formula."

Without large machinery, pesticides, chemical fertilizers, or breeding technology, the farmers of the shinobi world had nothing but their hands and strength. Sometimes they did not even have draft cattle or farming tools. How could they possibly compete with modern agriculture in productivity or yield per mu?

That was precisely why Kazuko and the other tenant farmers almost thought they had witnessed a miracle when they saw the unbelievably abundant rice in the fields.

Having spent half their lives working the land, Kazuko and the others naturally understood the normal yield of rice in the Land of Fire far better than Shingetsu, the farming novice. Even before the rice she had given them was properly harvested and husked, these experienced farmers could already estimate that its yield was at least thirty to forty percent higher than ordinary rice!

This rice naturally could not compare with hybrid rice, but it already far surpassed the agricultural standards of the Land of Fire.

So Cat Granny wasn't ripping me off? Those rice seeds really were worth that much money!

Only then did the slow-on-the-uptake Shingetsu realize something was amiss. The price of that batch of rice seeds had been outrageously high. Just mentioning it made her heart bleed, and it had cost far more than anything else she had bought.

She had thought Cat Granny, that unscrupulous merchant, was merely fleecing a regular customer. Who would have thought the seeds really were a treasure!

In the spirit of planning ahead, Shingetsu had long since strong-armed her two sources of free labor, Hayato and Yota, into building a granary.

Whenever she stood in the fields and watched the exuberant tenant farmers happily carry the processed rice into the granary, an inexplicable melancholy rose in her heart.

An instinct called greed lingered in her heart, often leaving her disconsolate. She could have sighed three hundred times a day over it-

What a waste! If only I'd set the tax a little higher back then!

Ever since thoroughly studying the various tax laws of the Land of Fire, Shingetsu had frequently entertained that thought. She always felt as though she had lost a hundred million.

Honestly, Shingetsu deeply regretted it now. She had discovered that the thirty-percent land tax she had initially demanded was simply too low.

The so-called "six public, four private" system practiced in the Land of Fire actually involved assessing a plot's agricultural productivity in advance, setting a figure, and then making the commoners pay it. The same approach applied to those who did not live off the land. Fishermen living by the sea, for example, handed over seafood.

At first glance, there seemed to be nothing wrong with this, but in reality, such broad taxation naturally gave rise to endless schemes and backroom dealings-

First, a field's yield was whatever the tax official said it was. If it failed to produce that much, and the amount collected actually far exceeded sixty percent, that only proved one thing:

That wretched lowborn scum had not worked hard enough! He must have been slacking off, which was why he had failed to meet His Lordship the Daimyō's expectations!

As for how much grain would be collected, naturally, that was still decided by the tax official who represented His Lordship the Daimyō.

But what if bad luck brought war or natural disasters, leaving them without a single grain to harvest and unable even to survive? What were they supposed to do then?

Naturally, they still had to pay the amount originally agreed upon.

If they could not hand over grain, they had to surrender other property. Their houses, land, and even their own persons would be handed over as collateral. If they were unlucky, an enraged noble lord might even arrest them and have them beheaded.

Paying taxes on time was every citizen of the Land of Fire's duty. If you did not pay your taxes, were you still a citizen of the Land of Fire? And if you were not a citizen of the Land of Fire, what were you still doing alive?

As for the various additional taxes imposed by local lords on top of the annual tribute, the Daimyō's occasional demands that taxes be paid half in rice and half in money, and all the compulsory labor and rotating service duties, those naturally did not count toward "six public, four private."

This so-called "six public, four private" merely sounded nice. After layer upon layer of exploitation, if the commoners had even ten percent left, that already meant the Daimyō and nobles had generously allowed them a way to survive.

As for the other four great nations and the many smaller countries in the shinobi world... well, my friend, had you ever heard of "seven public, three private" and "eight public, two private"?

After cramming her head full of the Land of Fire's simultaneously complicated and simple tax system, Shingetsu was deeply shocked by the Daimyō's predatory ways. Yet what filled her heart even more was frustration and regret. She wanted to send her past self flying for ever having said "thirty percent."

If the Daimyō collects that much tax, I just have to collect a little less!

If only I could take fifty percent-no, even forty percent would be fine!

Beside herself with regret, Shingetsu beat her head and stamped her feet. She felt she had handed away countless benefits for nothing and suffered an enormous loss. Yet she had forgotten that chasing small gains could bring great disadvantages.

Shingetsu had unconsciously overlooked one thing: as a shinobi, did she really have any right to compare herself with the Daimyō?

To commoners, the lofty Daimyō was at least an exalted figure from an unbroken, ancient lineage. Shinobi, however, were evil spirits in human skin who murdered, burned, and committed every imaginable crime. In terms of social standing, they ranked even lower than the lowliest commoners.

In fact, fewer than six short years had passed since shinobi had been freed from their status as outcasts. Six years was not enough for the world to forget their thousand years of lowly standing or the wicked deeds that had sparked countless wars.

If forced to choose between a beastlike Daimyō and demonlike shinobi, commoners would still choose the Daimyō and nobles, even after enduring all their extortionate taxes.

However beastly and greedy the Daimyō might be, he was at least human, just like them. If life truly became unbearable, commoners could at least find a way to flee his rule. Even if they were likely to die on the road, it was still a chance to survive.

But against shinobi who could casually spit fireballs and cleave mountains with one hand, what chance did commoners have of scraping out a living beneath their feet?

Run? How could they run? How could ordinary people possibly outrun shinobi or ninjutsu?

One must not forget that the thousand-year Warring States period had only just ended. Very few commoners had escaped the wars between shinobi clans unscathed. The vast majority, like Kazuko, had a blood debt with shinobi that could never truly be repaid.

Their dearest friends and family had been killed, the fields that sustained them destroyed, and their only homes and possessions burned. Sometimes even their hometowns vanished beneath shinobi ninjutsu... To commoners whose lives already balanced on a tightrope, shinobi were demons forever trying to push them into the abyss.

Without sufficient benefits, why would anyone risk their life working for her? Because of the Uchiha's reputation?

The infamous Uchiha Clan were evil spirits among evil spirits, demons among demons.

What reputation did shinobi have? What reputation did the Uchiha have? And what reputation did Madara Uchiha have? To put it bluntly, only someone out of their mind or utterly tired of living would want to work under a pack of demons and monsters.

In fact, it was precisely the extremely generous benefits and almost nonexistent taxes that had given Kazuko and these other desperate commoners the courage to risk their lives and seek refuge with her. They had arrived prepared to die, and even ready for the possibility that these shinobi would torture them until they wished they were dead.

After all, seeking refuge with shinobi was equivalent to placing their lives and the rest of their futures directly in those shinobi's hands.

Although Shingetsu herself had not considered this, Kazuko and the others had already accepted it.

After all, the gulf between their strength was practically insurmountable. Their relationship was inherently unequal.

Seen that way, she had stumbled into the right answer.

Clearly, Shingetsu was a farming idiot through and through. The farming plan she thought was perfect was actually riddled with holes. The slightest misstep could bring it crashing down!

Even reading hundreds of farming novels had done nothing to cure her stupidity and ignorance.

Yet it was precisely her ignorance that had given her the courage to take this hardest first step. And it was that step that had made her a source of hope in many people's eyes, earning their wholehearted support.

Without Madara Uchiha's support, her farming plan could never have been implemented. Without Cat Granny's improved seeds, she could never have obtained such productive rice. Without Kazuko and the other tenant farmers working day and night, she could never have achieved this harvest. Without Hayato and Yota constantly using ninjutsu to improve productivity, the tenant farmers could not have devoted themselves entirely to cultivation.

It was now September of Konoha's sixth year.

In this season, waves of rice rolled across the fields, and the fragrance of grain filled the air. Everyone working there wore a radiant smile. Everyone counted on their fingers how much they could buy after the harvest. Everyone laughed and chatted about delicious food and fine clothes they had never dared to hope for before.

It was clear that everyone was happy, and that heartfelt joy was no pretense.

The faces of these long-suffering people had gained vitality and spirit. At last, they seemed to have gone from walking corpses to truly living human beings.

The first stumbling step Shingetsu had taken could finally carry her steadily onward, but the road ahead of her was still very, very long.