Starting today, be a noble person; starting today, be a pure person; starting today, be a person without great ambitions; starting today, be a person who lives idly waiting for death; I only wish to face the southern mountains, with spring warmth and flowers blooming. Yun Ye didn’t need to build a house, because the great, wise, enlightened, and generous His Majesty Li Er, besides enfeoffing him with the baron title, also bestowed one thousand two hundred mu of land to reward his magnificent deed of selflessly contributing the salt-making secret method.

Cheng Yaojin also praised endlessly the Emperor’s lavish reward. The imperial dynasty’s noble ranks were divided into five grades: Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, and Baron. Yun Ye this time received the baron enfeoffment, leaping from commoner status to become a lord in one bound.

Under the general trend of the realm already being settled, enfeoffing nobles had become extremely cautious. The entire court was thinking about how to reduce nobles and lower their ranks. Yet Yun Ye, relying merely on a salt-making secret method, actually broke through this restriction and in one stroke received the genuine title of Founding Baron. This was also unprecedented.

One must know that Cheng Yaojin had followed His Majesty Li Er through life-and-death situations for many years and was an absolute confidant, yet only received the enfeoffment of Duke of Lu County. The renowned great minister of a generation, Yu Shinan, was merely Viscount of Yongxing County.

Current noble titles all had to have the word “Founding” added in front, making them even more rare. In comparison, those thousand-some mu of enfeoffed land were insignificant. Looking at the map, it was a full fifty li from Chang’an city. According to Cheng Chumo’s words, how could this even be called Chang’an enfeoffed land? It was only three cun distance from Longyou—of course, this was measured on the map. No matter what, he was now a “three-haves” new man with noble rank, official position, and land.

Under the impact of tremendous happiness, Yun Ye had already forgotten about Cheng Chumo stuffing his mouth with a dirty handkerchief. In view of the fact that both the Cheng father and son liked to express their joy by vigorously slapping others’ shoulders with their palms, Yun Ye also forgot to explain to Old Cheng and his son the fact that he didn’t suffer from epilepsy.

Yun Ye opened his backpack. These days he had deliberately not rummaged through his previous belongings, worried he would once again fall into painful memories. He picked up his mobile phone—it had already run out of power, the screen completely black. He opened the back cover, removed the battery, and carefully blew away the dust inside. The water that had seeped in some time ago had long since dried. Cheng Chumo had used it as a mirror and even complained it wasn’t as good as a bronze mirror.

He took out the solar charger, opened the light-absorbing panel, selected a place without shade, set up the charger properly, and connected the mobile phone to it. In less than four hours, the phone would be fully charged. Inside were his family photos. Yun Ye really wanted to look at his wife and son, worried that if he continued like this, he would forget them.

Only one Yengisar knife remained. The hairpin was still so beautiful. Yun Ye’s hand gently brushed across the hairpin as if brushing across his wife’s smooth long hair.

He had already thrown away the GPS locator and also discarded his wallet. The only markers of his existence were this physical body.

The two potatoes he hadn’t been willing to eat had already grown full of purple tender sprouts. Yun Ye was very clear about the value of these two potatoes. Without them, for the Great Tang to obtain this important crop would require crossing the vast Pacific Ocean to search the American continent.

He called over the personal guard serving him and ordered him to find several large vats, planning to cut open the potatoes and plant them in the vats. He hoped they could mature before the weather turned cold.

The complete set of cookware had been borrowed by Cheng Chumo. He heard it was to have the camp blacksmiths forge another set, but there had been no news until now. The tent and sleeping bag also hadn’t escaped this fate.

The compass and map Yun Ye kept close to his body and didn’t plan to let them see daylight again. The compass was still manageable, but the map was really impossible to explain. Yet it was too important to destroy.

Cheng Chumo apparently didn’t plan to return the entrenching tool to him. Having emptied the backpack, Yun Ye shook it out, wanting to dump out the dust inside. Unexpectedly, several golden-yellow things fell out. Yun Ye looked and saw they were five corn kernels that had somehow fallen into the seam of the backpack. Yun Ye picked up the corn kernels, wrapped them carefully in hemp cloth, and placed them together with the chili pepper seeds. He hoped that next year he could grow chili peppers and corn. Whether his estate could prosper depended entirely on them.

Yun Ye didn’t hold too much hope for electronic products. If the mobile phone didn’t contain photos of his wife and child, he would definitely choose to throw it into the Yellow River. The Master didn’t speak of strange forces and chaos gods. Things that were too advanced wouldn’t bring him happiness—they would only attract disaster. His Majesty Li Er fundamentally didn’t believe in any deities from the depths of his bones. If he brought out a divine artifact that couldn’t be explained, Li Er’s first reaction wouldn’t be worship but raising the butcher’s knife.

Yun Ye discovered he was a thoroughly penniless wretch. Not only was he without a penny, he even owed Old Cheng a plate of silver. Although money was worthless, without money one really couldn’t move an inch. How could His Majesty Li Er have forgotten to bestow some gold, silver, pearls, and jade? So inconsiderate! Without money, how could he be a lord? Yun Ye felt he was the most miserable lord in the world. Did lords still have to earn money themselves? Wasn’t it said that lords all embraced beauties left and right, ate delicacies at every meal, traveled on fine horses, and returned to magnificent mansions? How was it that when it came to him, he had to work as a laborer to earn money? Where was heavenly justice!

Old Cheng looked strangely at the five short vats arranged in a row in front of Yun Ye’s tent. What was strange was that Yun Ye had even knocked a hole in the bottom of each vat. Military soldiers were mixing together rotting tree leaves and riverside mud—dark and seeming very fertile. Yun Ye carefully and gently buried a strange tuber with purple tender sprouts into the vats. The surface was covered with a thin layer of soil. After Yun Ye finished watering, Old Cheng could bear it no longer. He asked Yun Ye: “Boy, what are you doing? Growing flowers? You wouldn’t do something so inappropriate in the military camp, would you?”

Yun Ye patted the mud off his hands and bowed to Old Cheng in salute: “Uncle Cheng, your nephew is infinitely grateful for Uncle’s trust. Your nephew does such an outrageous thing, yet you haven’t uttered a single word of reproach. Instead, you have soldiers do their utmost to help your nephew complete it. Uncle’s deep affection—your nephew keeps it in his heart. As for the things in the vats, please allow your nephew to keep it mysterious—all will be known after autumn. But your nephew can tell Uncle that this thing is a priceless treasure. As long as planting succeeds, it can ensure our Great Tang has no worry of famine in the future.”

“Boy, is this true? With just five large vats, you can ensure the Great Tang has no worry of famine?” Cheng Yaojin asked in a trembling voice.

“Hehe, your nephew just received a noble title and obtained a thousand mu of enfeoffed land, but regrettably is still a penniless wretch without a penny. At year’s end, I must rush to Chang’an to kowtow thanks to His Majesty and formally take up my post. How can I do this without money? When this thing is successfully planted, your nephew can present it to His Majesty and obtain several tens of thousands of strings of cash. Then I can live idly waiting for death.” Yun Ye’s words had just fallen when a giant claw grabbed his neck and dragged him toward the camp tent.

After going through beating, resistance, more beating, and then submission—this standard routine method of conversation—Old Cheng walked out of the tent with satisfaction, hands behind his back. He crouched by the vats and carefully counted the tender sprouts in the soil. He called over ten personal guards and solemnly instructed them to guard carefully. Stroking the vat rims, he muttered to himself: “This is more precious than life itself!”

The personal guards saw the general so beside himself and put away their dismissive thoughts. Ten pairs of eyes stared tightly at the five large vats, without a trace of negligence.

Yun Ye lay on the bed, rubbing his already numb buttocks, crying out miserably: “They’re just potatoes—was it necessary to beat me?”