Chapter 20: Li Xiaogong's Astonishment

Inside the main hall of Riverwatch Pavilion, Manager Lu was at that moment entertaining a most distinguished guest: Li Xiaogong, Prince of Hejian, who also happened to be the true master behind Riverwatch Pavilion.

Upon receiving Manager Lu’s secret report, Li Xiaogong had hurried to the pavilion without delay—he had to confirm with his own eyes whether what Manager Lu claimed was true.

He knew Manager Lu well: sharp-eyed, prudent, and never one to make baseless assertions. Still, the matter was of such consequence that Li Xiaogong could not afford to be careless.

“Manager Lu, you’ve done well these past days. Now tell me: is what you wrote in your letter true? Does that young fellow named Du Chengfeng truly possess a high-yield crop capable of producing over ten shi per mu?” Li Xiaogong asked, half-doubting and half-hoping.

“It is entirely true, Your Highness,” Manager Lu replied confidently. “Not long ago, when I went to Du Village to collect goods, I noticed many villagers planting rice. As Your Highness knows, rice is rarely grown in the Guanzhong region.”

“My curiosity piqued, I questioned Du Chengfeng himself. He admitted, without a trace of hesitation, that his rice could yield over ten shi per mu. From his manner, it seemed utterly unremarkable to him, as if such high-yield rice were no more than any ordinary crop.”

“Moreover, he has solemnly promised the villagers that should the harvest fail to meet expectations, he would reimburse them double their losses. Such confidence speaks for itself—this must be real,” Manager Lu concluded with assurance.

“In that case,” Li Xiaogong’s eyes glinted with interest, “it seems I must meet this remarkable youth myself!”

“There’s more, Your Highness…” Manager Lu hesitated.

“Speak! Don’t keep me in suspense!” Li Xiaogong said, a touch impatiently.

“Your Highness, did you know that the famed Immortal Wine also comes from this young man’s hand? Not only that, but he is a marvelously gifted scholar, his calligraphy exceptional—far surpassing even Yu Shinan and Chu Suiliang, in my humble opinion. Such talent is rarely seen,” Manager Lu replied.

“With such genius, I can hardly wait to meet him. Manager Lu, lead the way,” Li Xiaogong declared, springing from his seat and striding out.

Manager Lu hurried to follow, summoning a servant to bring the carriage and then driving it himself toward Du Village.

Fortunately, after arranging matters at his new home, Du Chengfeng had quickly returned to Du Village. His thoughts lingered on the injuries of his elder brother and Uncle Dazhu.

Both his brother and Uncle Dazhu were wounded, and the renovation of the Immortal Wine workshop still required his supervision. He was thus busy in the workshop at that moment—otherwise, the Prince of Hejian’s visit would have been in vain.

As soon as Manager Lu arrived at Du Village, he led Li Xiaogong straight to the workshop, knowing Du Chengfeng was usually to be found there.

Stepping outside for some air, Du Chengfeng saw Manager Lu approaching in haste, accompanied by a dignified, imposing middle-aged man. He wondered at Manager Lu’s increasing visits.

“Young brother Chengfeng, come, quickly!” Manager Lu called out warmly from afar.

“Manager Lu, may I ask who this is?” Du Chengfeng inquired, frowning slightly.

“Young brother, this is the Prince of Hejian of Great Tang. Upon hearing about your high-yield rice, he has come specially to see you—what an immense honor!” Manager Lu introduced enthusiastically, signaling vigorously with his eyes.

“The Prince of Hejian? Li Xiaogong?” Du Chengfeng recalled instantly. This was indeed a most illustrious figure—the second-ranked of the twenty-four heroes of Lingyan Pavilion, renowned for his extraordinary achievements.

Most importantly, Li Xiaogong was known for his discernment, never arrogant in his merit. He was deeply trusted by Emperor Gaozu and Emperor Taizong—a true hero, and Du Chengfeng had always respected heroes.

“Your Highness, such a long journey on my account—your humble servant is unworthy of the honor,” Du Chengfeng said calmly, bowing with neither servility nor arrogance.

Li Xiaogong frowned slightly, studying Du Chengfeng. Though only sixteen, the youth was poised, spirited, proud yet not impudent—unlike others who fawned on him or quailed at the sight of a prince. Nor did he, like the villagers, fall to his knees or tremble. On the contrary, Du Chengfeng remained unruffled and composed—a youth shrouded in mystery indeed.

Li Xiaogong stroked his graying beard and nodded approvingly, a smile in his eyes.

“A hero indeed, even in youth! Not only courageous but a fine figure as well. Manager Lu tells me your literary and calligraphic talent is astonishing—extraordinary, truly extraordinary! Talents such as yours are a boon to our Tang dynasty,” Li Xiaogong praised warmly.

Frank and unpretentious by nature, Li Xiaogong took no offense at Du Chengfeng’s manner—he even admired such a display of self-assurance in the gifted.

“Your Highness flatters me—I possess only shallow learning, unworthy of praise,” Du Chengfeng replied with a faint smile.

“Hahaha!” Li Xiaogong laughed heartily. “So modest! But today I am here to see this high-yield rice for myself. Manager Lu says your fields can produce over ten shi per mu, and even allow for two harvests a year. Is that true, young man? Would you be willing to show me?”

He fixed his gaze on Du Chengfeng, seeking a hint of nervousness, but the youth’s face remained calm, his eyes as still as a deep well.

“Not at all, Your Highness. Please, follow me,” Du Chengfeng said, unhurriedly leading Li Xiaogong to the rice paddies.

At present, the rice was still in the seedling stage. The nursery fields had been remodeled according to modern methods: deeply tilled, ridged, and separated by water channels.

After several days of irrigation, the seeds had all sprouted into delicate white shoots, densely scattered like stars across the beds. Once the seedlings reached twenty or thirty centimeters, they would be transplanted into the main fields.

Li Xiaogong, having seen rice cultivation in the south during his campaigns, was somewhat familiar with the process. Yet the methods before him were clearly different, prompting him to ask, “Young man, this method differs greatly from the southern approach—why is that?”

“These must first be raised as seedlings. Once they reach roughly two-thirds of a foot, they are transplanted into the paddies at regular intervals. We apply organic fertilizer midway, and so long as this is followed, yields of over ten shi per mu are assured,” Du Chengfeng explained confidently.

“Excellent! Excellent!” Li Xiaogong’s heart surged with excitement as he gazed skyward and exclaimed, “Heaven truly favors our Tang dynasty!”

“But what is this organic fertilizer?” he asked.

“It is…” Du Chengfeng hesitated, lowering his voice, “it is, in fact, the waste of people and livestock.”

“Oh!” Li Xiaogong laughed awkwardly. Regaining his composure, he looked again to Du Chengfeng and said earnestly, “This is a marvelous thing. I must report it to His Majesty at once, so it can be promoted across the land. Young man, what do you think?”