Song Zhiyu spoke clearly, explaining how the potatoes came to be, whose hands they passed through, how they were cultivated, and ultimately how many potatoes were produced.
"What did you say?"
Emperor Chu could no longer remain calm.
Had he misheard? From less than half an acre of potato seedlings, the yield was nearly a thousand pounds?
Song Zhiyuan was equally astonished, his eyes wide open.
Prime Minister Fan squinted his aged eyes and said, "Song Zhiyuan, even though Prime Minister Song is here, lying before the Emperor is something not even he can protect you from."
Song Zhiyu replied, "Prime Minister Fan, don't dig a hole for me. I'm not stupid; why would I lie in front of the Emperor? Although I'm young, I have some sense. If I dare to say this, naturally, I have a basis for it."
Prime Minister Fan was at a loss for words, glanced at the roof beam, and let out a snort.
