Emperor Mingxi nodded, watching the Crown Prince who was eating with his head down, and shook his head in amusement before peeling one himself.
Unlike the food he had just eaten, this one was neatly arranged like shattered jade and amber, gleaming like gold or pearls, each piece plump and full of color, exuding an enticing aroma that made one’s mouth water.
Indeed, its fragrance was different from what he had tasted earlier, but it was just as alluring, suggesting it would be equally delicious.
Seeing Yue Fuguang skip utensils and bite directly into it, Emperor Mingxi decided not to be fussy either. If the young immortal lord could eat it raw, he’d look ridiculous asking someone to peel it for him grain by grain—he’d surely be mocked to death.
Taking a bite, he couldn’t help but praise, "Soft, sweet, and rich in flavor." He was smitten from the first taste.
Though not as sweet as the previous food, its aroma lingered just as long, and after finishing one, he was already mostly full.
Hearing the emperor’s praise, the other officials also picked one up, peeled it, and took a bite without hesitation.
What a joke—if the young immortal lord and His Majesty were eating it straight, who were they, mere subjects, to be pretentious?
Admittedly, while the taste differed, this was just as delicious.
Between bites, Wu Yong asked curiously, "Lord Tutor, both of these foods are exquisite. How come I’ve never seen them before? What are they called?"
The others were grateful for Wu Yong’s boldness—they’d wanted to ask but hadn’t dared.
Some had even been quietly hoping a colleague would take the lead and ask for them.
Suppressing a mischievous smile, Yue Fuguang replied casually, "These were gifts from my friend overseas.
The first one you ate is called sweet potato, and this golden one is called corn."
The first one you ate is called sweet potato, and this golden one is called corn!
Sweet potato? Corn?
Sweet potato! Corn!
These two names struck like thunder in the ears of everyone present—except Yue Fuguang.
They echoed in their minds and hearts, crack, crack, crack—the sound of hearts shattering in regret.
What… what had they done?
They’d just eaten miracle crops that yielded over a thousand catties per acre!
Some even wanted to claw at their throats, trying to vomit what they’d swallowed!
Wang Shouchen, the Minister of Agriculture, felt his vision darken. He pinched his thigh hard to stop himself from fainting.
The high-yield crops he’d dreamed of were right here—cooked, yes, but Yue Fuguang was still present!
He had to ask if there were any left before passing out, or he’d never rest in peace.
In this state, Wang still managed a stray thought: the vegetables from Yue Fuguang really had improved his health—such a blow hadn’t felled him yet.
He didn’t even feel the pain from how hard he was pinching himself.
Unbeknownst to him, Lu Qi, the Minister of Works beside him, was grimacing in agony.
The searing pain cleared his foggy mind instantly.
Damn it, since when did Wang Shouchen have such a grip? He cursed inwardly. If you wanted to stay awake, why not pinch your own thigh? What good did pinching his do?
If not for the man’s seniority and the fact that it had indeed "woken him up," preventing him from collapsing on the spot, he’d have snapped right then!
The other officials didn’t look much better—their faces were ashen, as if mourning their own parents.
As for their emperor, the shock seemed to have left him hollow-eyed, silent for a long while.
No wonder—this was Xie Fei’s ladder to becoming an eternal, revered ruler. No need to curry favor; just fling corn and sweet potatoes in their faces, and none would dare deny his greatness!
And now, they’d thoughtlessly devoured crops that could save millions!
His heart was bleeding!
He never should’ve given in to gluttony!
For Emperor Mingxi, indulgence had become his most painful lesson.
Yue Fuguang observed the officials’ despairing faces. If they didn’t mask their expressions soon, she’d catch on!
"Little Pearl, what’s wrong with them? They look like they’ve lost their fathers. Did they figure out these things…?"
"L-Lord Tutor," Wang Shouchen forced out, cutting off Yue Fuguang’s speculation, "did you say these are called sweet potato and corn?"
"Yes, sweet potato and corn. Does Minister Wang find something amiss?"
Yue Fuguang played along, feigning innocence. If they didn’t cook up a plausible excuse for their distress soon, she’d keep guessing—scare them to death!
"Amiss… amiss…" Wang Shouchen broke into a cold sweat.
Think, damn it!
His eyes darted to his colleagues, pleading: Friends, help! Someone, say something! This burden’s too heavy for me alone!
Yan Bingqing, a fellow Agriculture Ministry official, finally stepped in.
"Ah!" He began with a heavy sigh before continuing, "Lord Tutor, you may not know this, but Minister Wang once heard a rumor from a dying beggar."
He paused, brain racing to flesh out the tale.
Wang Shouchen, unaware of the "story’s" direction, could only weakly nod along, playing the traumatized elder too overcome to speak.
Yan Bingqing nearly choked. Wait, I threw you a line—shouldn’t you toss one back? What’s with just nodding?
Before his sweat could drip, Yue Fuguang mercifully extended a ladder. Climb!
She nodded sympathetically. "Does it relate to corn and sweet potato?"
Yan Bingqing seized the lifeline. "Exactly, Lord Tutor. That day, I accompanied Minister Wang on patrol in the West Market.
It was early winter, colder than now. The man was curled in a corner, and at first, we thought nothing of him.
But when he saw our official robes, he rushed over, saying he had vital news—in exchange for medical care.
Minister Wang, kind-hearted, took pity and agreed despite my protests."
Yue Fuguang mentally applauded Yan Bingqing—what talent! Even while spinning a tale, he’d slipped in praise for his boss, who’d just thrown him under the cart moments ago.
Noting their ages, she understood perfectly.
Yan Bingqing pressed on: "At the clinic, the man confessed he’d been a fisherman.
Once, caught in a storm, his boat capsized. He drifted on wreckage for two days before being rescued by a foreign ship."
