Do I have relatives in this world?

  Niu Jingda is very ugly, with a dark complexion, a lion's mouth and a leopard's nose, ringed eyes and curly whiskers, a tiger's back and a bear's waist. This is a real burly man who can run horses on his arms and stand people on his fists.

  He is a born soldier, brave and good at fighting, with many strategies. With just one order, he would rush into boiling water or walk through fire without hesitation, even if it means death nine times over. It was precisely because of such fearless warriors under his command that Li Er rose up in arms, conquered the world, forced the emperor to abdicate, and took the throne for himself. Originally, these butchers who killed people like cutting grass saw everyone's head as a military achievement, always ready to take your head at any moment to achieve their own dream of reaching the sky, using white bones to exchange for personal glory and advancement.

  Now this tough guy is apologizing to himself, with childish means, poor language and powerless threats. He didn't have to humiliate himself like this, but just because he heard a possibility, the myth of 15 tons per mu, his mind was lost and his whole being was in chaos. This isn't the reaction that should be expected from a veteran general who has been through hundreds of battles, it can only be said that he cares too much about the harvest, too much about how many people will go hungry and how many will die.

  Yun Ye had never experienced hunger, the phrase "thousands of miles of starving corpses" and "exchanging children for food" were just eight words recorded in history books. Lao Niu had experienced it and knew how terrifying hunger was.

  Yun Ye made an effort to lift his hand and grab the old cow's sleeve, lifting his legs to walk out. The old cow was stunned for a moment, Yun Ye smiled and followed him out.

  The rain was still falling slowly, and Zhuang San had already moved the potato seedlings out of the grass shed to let them enjoy the nourishment of the rain. The dark green leaves were rustling softly under the dense raindrops, and the one-meter-diameter barrel was soon covered with leaves. For some reason, Yun Yan had never seen potatoes in later generations have such vitality. Was it because they had been modified by a wormhole? Seeds that went into space would undergo mutations; could potatoes that passed through a wormhole also change their genes?

  The old cow was squatting in the rain, gently stroking the potato leaves as if caressing a beloved woman. The onlookers felt a bit nauseous. Yun Yan suppressed his malicious guesses and said to the old cow:

  "Uncle Niu, this sweet potato yields over 5 kilograms per plant, and can be planted with 1,500 to 2,000 plants per mu. As long as it is planted, wait for the seeds to sprout and pile up the soil into ridges, then just wait. Unless it's a year of severe drought, 15 dan (a unit of weight) is guaranteed."

  Yun Ye knew that in later generations, if the yield of potatoes per mu was less than 8,000 catties, it would be considered a failure. Considering that one mu in the Tang Dynasty was only equivalent to 0.871 mu in later generations, and one dan was equal to 59 kilograms, he said that the yield was less than 2,000 catties, fearing that it would scare these ancient people. If he had said 15 dan, he would have been pinched to death, and if he had said 50 dan, he would not have been buried in a pit.

  "These few potato seedlings are probably the only ones left in the Tang Dynasty. A seafaring friend of my teacher brought them back from a distant land overseas, intending to let him taste this rare food. My teacher ate two and was so impressed with the yield that he decided to try planting them, but unfortunately, he didn't live to see the harvest. A peach blossom storm left me stranded in the wilderness, but luckily I met Zhang Cheng and his grain-delivering group, who told me about the army's shortage of salt, so I helped them make salt. After all this hustle and bustle, I almost forgot about the potatoes. It wasn't until June that I planted them, and it won't be until October that they'll be mature. By then, we'll know how much one mu can yield. Uncle is worried about the suffering of the world, and I admire him greatly."

  The old cow carefully covered some soil around the roots of the potato seedlings and, ignoring her hair that had been wet by the rain, looked at the potato seedlings and said to Yun Yan:

  "I heard that you are a descendant of the Langya people from Chang'an, but when I investigated your past, no one seemed to know anything about you. At the time of Yang Xuan's defeat in Chang'an, 30,000 people were killed, and many innocent people suffered. Your family, the Yun clan, was also affected, with many members being implicated and their families destroyed, except for the Yun Dingxing branch which managed to escape unscathed. I suspect that you are one of the orphaned survivors of those implicated. In this chaotic world, it's fortunate that you, a young child at the time, were able to meet your master. Pitifully, many others who had no one to take them in ended up with no food or clothing, some became slaves or servants, and some even became prostitutes. But what's strange is that despite being reduced to such lowly roles, they still carefully guarded the Langya ancestral temple, making offerings at every festival and occasion, filling the temple with peach wood plaques. Do you know what's going on?"

  As soon as the words came out, Yun Ye only felt that his forehead was hit by a heavy fist, and stars were flashing before his eyes. Blood rushed to his head, and a fishy smell emerged from his mouth. Fresh blood dripped down from his nostrils. How could Yun Ye not know about the Blue Mountain Ancestral Hall? When his son was eight years old, he had specially engraved a peach wood nameplate and sent it to the ancestral hall for preservation. At eighteen, he took it back and carried it with him. Yun Ye's nameplate had been hanging around his neck all along, and after eighteen, he never took it off again. The peach wood had long since turned black and red, and was smooth and shiny from being soaked in sweat and oil. He raised his hand and didn't feel any pain, tore open his collar, revealing the peach wood plate on his neck, and asked loudly:

  "But what about this wooden plaque?" It was a standard wooden plaque, one inch long, half an inch wide, and one tenth of an inch thick. Old Cow looked at the wooden plaque on Yun Ye's neck and nodded:

  "Not bad, it seems that there are only a few men left in your family. The Hundred Riders saw that all the people coming and going were women, I suppose the wooden plaques being worshipped are all of deceased men?"

  Yun Yan felt dizzy and found himself inexplicably transported to the Tang Dynasty. He had thought he was alone in the world, and his earlier mention of his family background was just a casual remark. But it turned out that his ancestral temple was already established in the suburbs of Chang'an, in the ancient county of Lantian, during the early Tang period. His descendants had always believed that the Yun family's ancestral temple was built only during the mid-Tang period. Thousands of thoughts were tangled in his mind, and he felt like there was much to say, but couldn't utter a single word. The loneliness and sorrow that had accumulated over many days suddenly burst out with a mouthful of fresh blood.

  The cow entered the tent with a sigh, carrying Yun Hao in his arms. This little guy, how could he have such a big reaction when hearing news about his relatives? But it's not easy to endure the hardships of being an orphan for over a decade. When hearing that all his loved ones are suffering, anyone would be unbearable. The Yun family, those widows, young girls, and widowers' persistence is reasonable, after all, the prosperity of the family is just a matter of time. It's good that he spat out that mouthful of blood earlier, didn't you see that the gloominess between his eyebrows has dissipated?

  Cheng Cheng quietly slipped in, worriedly staring at Yun Ye, and only let out a sigh of relief when he saw that he had just fainted. He asked Niu Jin Da: "Uncle Niu, is Little Ye okay? Why did you tell him about his origins and cause such a big reaction? I should have told him myself."

  "You tell him, what right do you have to tell him? Are you telling him that you're investigating his background? As the Deputy Commander and Inspector General, I am conducting an investigation due to official reasons, and it's only natural. Anyone would say that this young man's methods of salt production, improved military rations, and established sanitation regulations are all commendable. It's a great achievement that requires great talent, not to mention the potatoes in the account book - even if it's just seven or eight pecks, I and your father will guarantee him a hereditary dukedom. In Chang'an City, who would dare bully him? I can make them face life and death difficulties."