In truth, Jin Feng had thought a great deal about farming.
At present, the Jinchuan Merchant Association could continually pour in huge sums of money through soap and black knives. That money was more than enough to feed the few thousand people in Xihe Bay.
Moreover, the textile workshop, which employed the most workers, had not only become self-sufficient since the new looms were introduced, it was now turning a profit.
The iron-smelting workshop had fully adopted assembly-line production. The female disciples trained by Man Cang each handled only one or two components of the loom.
These parts were then sent to the neighbouring assembly room, where a complete loom could be put together in no time.
This method not only prevented leaks of know-how, it also greatly raised efficiency.
A traditional Great Kang carpenter who could build one loom a month was already considered extremely fast.
Yet if Tang Dongdong needed them, Man Cang and her group of female disciples could produce more than ten looms in a single day.
Besides the assembly line, the most important factor was the use of machine tools.
The iron-smelting workshop already possessed more than a dozen simple machine tools. Although still very crude, they were perfectly adequate for making the loom parts Jin Feng had designed.
Components that took a carpenter days of careful carving could be finished with a few passes on a machine tool.
This was the power of industry.
The new looms Jin Feng had built were driven by windmills or, when there was no wind, by draught animals. Their weaving speed far surpassed anything traditional Great Kang looms could achieve.
As a result, labour costs at the Xihe Bay textile workshop had fallen dramatically, and the workshop had turned from loss to profit.
Then there was the salt works.
Once Ninth Princess finished her coordination, many salt works would surely spring up around Double Camel Peak, providing employment for a great many more common people.
Therefore Jin Feng did not worry about feeding himself or the whole of Xihe Bay. Given one or two years, he could even shift the entire Jinchuan County toward industrial development and solve the food problem for all its inhabitants.
But Heaven was not giving him that time.
This autumn rain had lasted far too long. At least half the fields in Jinchuan County would yield no harvest next year.
And just at this critical moment the court had chosen to raise taxes again. How were ordinary people supposed to survive?
The total grain supply in the realm was fixed, and most of it was concentrated in the hands of landlords and gentry. Jin Feng could develop industry, sell soap, salt, and cloth, earn money, and buy grain to feed the people of Jinchuan, but what about the common people elsewhere?
The fundamental solution remained to strike at the landlords and gentry while vigorously developing agriculture.
Striking at the landlords and gentry was out of the question for Jin Feng.
Let alone a mere minor baron like him, even the reigning Emperor Chen Ji would find it all but impossible.
So only the path of developing agriculture remained.
The first thing Jin Feng thought of for agriculture was hybrid rice technology.
In his previous life, that very technology had fed more than a billion people.
But he quickly dismissed the idea.
The breakthrough that Grandfather Yuan and his team had achieved after decades of hard work in the fields was something Jin Feng, a mechanical-engineering graduate who only vaguely understood the principles, could never replicate in practice.
Still, having grown up in a farming family, Jin Feng had often helped with fieldwork as a child and was no stranger to agriculture.
Although he could not compare with professional agronomists, his knowledge was still far ahead of its time for Great Kang.
The current farming methods in Great Kang were as backward as its smelting techniques.
Many places still used slash-and-burn agriculture.
In slash-and-burn, trees and grass were burned, the ashes used as fertiliser, and seeds sown without ploughing, simply by poking a hole in the ground with a stick, dropping in the seeds, and stamping the hole shut.
How could crops planted this way ever give high yields?
The average wheat yield in Great Kang was little more than a hundred jin per mu. Two hundred jin was already considered excellent land, and even then it required perfect weather.
It was not that farmers were unaware that deep ploughing benefited crops; they simply had no draught oxen.
Oxen were expensive, and in many places owning them incurred a tax.
Not only in Great Kang; the history of Jin Feng’s previous life contained plenty of equally absurd feudal levies.
Without oxen, with few able-bodied men, and with primitive tools, expecting the old, the weak, women, and children to turn the soil deeply was unrealistic. By the time they finished a few plots the planting season would be over. They had no choice but to use such crude methods.
Jin Feng had long intended to pass on the farming knowledge he possessed to the peasants.
However, Jinchuan County was mostly mountainous. Most people grew mulberry and hemp rather than rice or wheat, so the matter had been put aside when he grew busy.
Now that Ninth Princess had raised the subject herself, Jin Feng decided to have a proper talk with her.
“The people take food as their heaven; agriculture is the foundation of the state. Naturally the old gentleman spoke of it.”
Jin Feng answered.
“What did he say?” Ninth Princess pressed.
“Well…” Jin Feng hesitated. “The old gentleman’s words were rather radical. I am not sure whether they should be spoken…”
Ninth Princess was truly perceptive. Hearing this, she immediately understood that what followed would surely be criticism of the court.
Yet agriculture was far too important to the realm. After a moment’s thought, she ordered Qin Ming and all the guards out of the clinic, sending even Qin’er with them.
Only four people remained in the room: Jin Feng, Ninth Princess, Qing Munlan, and Wei Wuya.
“Mister, there are no outsiders here now. Speak freely whatever is on your mind. Even if you call my imperial father a muddled ruler, this palace will never hold it against you!”
With that, Ninth Princess solemnly bowed to Jin Feng. “I only beg Mister to consider the common people of the realm and tell the truth.”
“Mister, say whatever you wish. Wuyang is different from those power-grabbing scoundrels; she genuinely wants to do something for Great Kang.”
Qing Munlan encouraged him. “Moreover, in several hundred years since Great Kang was founded, no one has ever been punished for their words.”
Afraid Jin Feng might still worry, she set an example first. “Wuyang, you must admit His Majesty is a muddled ruler. Brother Qing Huai and Mister clearly won a victory, yet the annual tribute to the Dangxiang was increased. If that is not muddled rule, what is?”
“Alas…”
Ninth Princess sighed and shook her head, offering no defence.
She had none to offer.
She herself had been deeply unhappy with Chen Ji over this matter.
Truth be told, Chen Ji’s decision had been rather inexplicable.
Only days earlier, swayed by the war faction, he had leaned toward breaking completely with the Dangxiang and ending tribute payments, using the saved money and grain to train troops and resist the enemy.
Yet the peace faction somehow obtained an authentic painting and calligraphy work by a famous artist of the previous dynasty and presented it to him, whereupon Chen Ji abruptly changed his mind.
It sounded like a fantasy, but reality was just that absurd.
This was the greatest flaw of imperial power: the emperor’s authority was too great. Many decrees that affected the entire realm were issued simply because the emperor decided on a whim.
He might regret it a day or two later, but once a decree was promulgated, even the emperor’s regret was useless; he could only grit his teeth and carry it out.
Jin Feng had often encountered such cases when studying history in his previous life.
A perfectly good country could rapidly decline simply because a muddled ruler appeared on the throne.
