Ming Dynasty Grain King: From the Start, Farming Xu Da's Barren Fields

[Ming Dynasty + farming + System + face-slapping + food is power + no saintly do-gooder]

In the seventh year of Hongwu, tenant farmer Fang Yu and his family were thrown out of their landlord’s home.

His father’s leg was broken, and his mother held his three-year-old sister in her arms. The family had nowhere to turn.

Armed with nothing but an iron hoe, Fang Yu set foot on a stretch of saline wasteland where everyone said nothing could grow.

The moment his feet touched the salt crust, the Agricultural Encyclopedia System activated.

Three hundred and forty mu of saline flats. Salt content: 0.38%. pH: 8.2. Groundwater depth: 1.2 meters.

The System declared it could be reclaimed.

Three months later, the twenty-mu test plot yielded eight hundred jin per mu.

Everyone went mad.

The landlord who had driven him out came knocking that very night to propose a partnership. Fang Yu lounged on the field ridge and said, “Want to grow crops? Half the harvest is mine.”

The Duke of Wei’s estate sent him a contract for thirty thousand mu of wasteland. He drew up a plan in a day and took a forty-percent share.

When the Ministry of Revenue came begging him for military provisions, he named his price. The minister slammed the table and cursed him as a profiteer.

Fang Yu smiled. “If you think it’s too expensive, you can wait until next year. The horses of the Northern Yuan can’t.”

Zhu Yuanzhang stood in disguise by the field, his hands trembling as he rubbed an ear of rice.

In this world, whoever has food gets to call the shots.

And what Fang Yu held in his hands was the rarest thing in all of Ming.