Agricultural graduate student Chen Feng stayed up late doing experiments and woke up to become a "worm-eaten clerk" in a county in Shandong in the late Qing Dynasty - from the ninth rank, in charge of the granary, and still owed three hundred stones of insect grain. The boss presses, the colleagues watch the show, and the three-day deadline hangs above their heads.
He originally just wanted to live.
But when he opened the account book left by his predecessor, he saw a line of words that sent shivers down his spine: "There were many flying insects in the warehouse last year, and there will be a locust plague this spring."
No one believes the last words of a moth-eaten petty official. But Chen Fengxin. Because he understands that the flying insects are the precursor of the locust plague.
There are still three months until the locust plague breaks out.
He had no guns, no backers, and only the agricultural knowledge he had learned for seven years in modern times. He wants to use lime water to save insect grains, use steam to plow saline-alkali soil, and use the wisdom in "Tiangong Kaiwu" to grow food that can feed 400 million people.
The steam engines of foreign merchants were more advanced than his, but they could not be repaired; the diehards' memorials were louder than his, but they could not fill their stomachs; the strife in the officialdom was more sinister than he imagined, but in the fields, there were always old farmers kneeling in the mud and calling him "Master Chen."
This is a road that no one has traveled before - not to save the country with guns and guns, but to build the country with food.
When the golden wheat waves rolled over the barren fields, and when the train whistle sounded from afar, the insect-eaten clerk stood on the field ridge and said to the young man beside him:
"Next year, let's try a new crop."
Some people say that history is written by swords. But the young man coming from the field wanted to try using a plowshare.
