When he woke up, he had a mouthful of mud in his mouth.
In his previous life, he was a master of agriculture, and in this life he is a dying boy. The family was destitute, the mother was half-blind, and the little sister was so hungry that she cried. This place called Shiqiao Village was so poor that it didn't even bother to remember it in the county annals.
There is no system, no cheats. Only the shoes that were worn out on the field ridges and the nights spent in the laboratory were in my mind.
Chen Mancang started with one-third of an acre of land, soaking seeds in warm water, raising seedlings in semi-arid conditions, and returning green manure to the fields. The villagers laughed at him for messing around, but he didn't argue and just immersed himself in farming.
In autumn, the golden waves of rice drown all ridicule.
In the following years, double-cropping rice, sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes were all spread throughout the countryside from his hands. Grain stores opened to Fucheng, and industries spread from Jiangnan to the whole country. The county magistrate appreciated him, the prime minister promoted him, and the emperor asked in the court: "Are you the farmer?"
He said: "Yes, I am a farmer."
From Shiqiao Village to Lin'an City, from one-third of an acre to the granary of the world. He repaired water conservancy, compiled agricultural books, set up schools, and regulated the Yellow River. Some people call him "Nongsheng", and some people build temples for him. There is only one line of words engraved on the tombstone——
"I am a farmer."
There is gold in the soil, and food is the top priority for the people.
