Changsha Prefecture Chronicles

After three rounds of drinking, Lei Qilong saw that Prince Ji’s mood was high, so he slightly bowed and said, “Your Highness, I came tonight with an urgent matter to discuss. I hope you will forgive me for speaking frankly.”

Zhu Cihuan raised his hand. In an instant, all the servants in the room, like birds scattering with the tide, silently withdrew. The last maid gently lowered the silk curtain.

The room fell silent, leaving only the two of them.

Zhu Cihuan leaned back on the beautiful couch and said, “Speak freely.”

Lei Qilong immediately stood up, respectfully explained the disaster in Shanhua County, and said sincerely, “Your Highness, the disaster in Shanhua County is severe. The people are homeless, food is scarce, and the fields are filled with the bodies of the hungry. Your Highness, who is known for your benevolence, will surely understand the people’s suffering and open the granaries to relieve them from their plight.”

Zhu Cihuan raised an eyebrow, playing with the wine cup in his hand. The amber liquid rippled in the cup. He smiled slightly, clicked his tongue, and said, “Lord Lei, do you know that half of my land in Shanhua County was also destroyed by the flood? Now, there is no harvest. Who will come to aid me?”

Lei Qilong’s heart sank. Half of the rice fields in Shanhua County were under Prince Ji’s name, exempt from taxes, while the remaining fields, belonging to the common people, bore the entire county’s tax burden.

He dared not say more and immediately knelt, his forehead touching the cold floor. He said, “Your Highness, forgive me! I was incompetent and failed to manage the flood in time. Please, Your Highness, have mercy and help the people.”

Seeing him kneel, Zhu Cihuan frowned. “Lord Lei, why go to such lengths? I was just complaining casually.”

“Rise,” Zhu Cihuan’s tone lightened, and his warm palm helped lift Lei Qilong. “Tomorrow, I will have the Chancellor open the grain storage at the Eastern Suburb’s retreat. You arrange for people to assist.”

Lei Qilong quickly expressed his gratitude, “Thank you, Your Highness! Your benevolence will surely be remembered by the people.”

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Lei Qilong sat in the magistrate’s office, holding a cup of hot tea. His eyes occasionally flickered toward the door.

Soon, Wei Lan hurried in, her robe slightly disordered, with traces of medicine on her sleeves, clearly having just left the medical hall. Although her attire was untidy, her expression was calm, and her steps were steady.

Wei Lan slightly bowed, “I greet Lord Lei.”

Lei Qilong put down his tea cup, stood to welcome her, and smiled, “You are the renowned Dr. Wei? I have long heard of your name. Today, I see that your reputation is well-deserved! Truly a talented person!”

Wei Lan nodded and, without being humble, replied, “Lord Lei flatters me. I am just a doctor, not deserving of the title of ‘talent.’”

Lei Qilong gestured for her to sit and personally poured her a cup of tea. He said, “I’ve heard of Dr. Wei’s deeds in Changsha Prefecture. Regarding the disaster in Shanhua County, the suffering of the people is beyond words. I’m sure Dr. Wei has heard of it as well?”

Wei Lan took the tea, and as expected, as Zhang Wenyuan had predicted, she had already prepared herself. Without hesitation, she nodded, “I am willing to do my part, donating money and medicine to help the government relieve the disaster.”

Lei Qilong was taken aback. He hadn’t expected such a quick agreement. He thought he would have to use more persuasion, or even some tricks, to get her to comply. He suppressed his surprise and smiled, “Dr. Wei truly understands the greater good. On behalf of the people, I thank you.”

Wei Lan smiled lightly, her tone calm, “However, I have two conditions that I hope Lord Lei will consider.”

Lei Qilong raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly displeased. A commoner daring to negotiate with him? But he didn’t show it, maintaining a friendly demeanor, “Oh? Please, tell me.”

Wei Lan took out a letter from her sleeve and handed it to him with both hands. “First, I once sent a suggestion letter to the Education Department, proposing that the government invest in building a medical academy to develop medical careers and train more qualified medical talents for the people. Unfortunately, the letter was rejected. If Lord Lei could facilitate this, it would be a great blessing for the people.”

Lei Qilong took the letter and glanced at it. He was secretly shocked. He hadn’t expected Wei Lan to be so prepared with such a clear goal in mind. He pondered for a moment and asked, “What’s the second condition?”

Wei Lan continued, “Second, I have three suggestions for increasing rice production. Although the disaster in Shanhua County is severe, in the long run, increasing food production is the root solution. If these suggestions are implemented, they will undoubtedly increase production and alleviate the food shortage. I guarantee with my life that this plan is feasible.”

Lei Qilong’s thoughts became complicated. He had thought of Wei Lan only as a skilled doctor, but now he saw she had far-reaching vision and courage. He looked at her with a more scrutinizing gaze, “Dr. Wei, you are indeed meticulous, and well-prepared.”

Lei Qilong quickly read through the letter. His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze turning inquisitive. He suddenly pressed the letter down on the desk, leaning forward. “Of the three rice production plans, the one that interests me most is your suggestion on rice variety selection. Xianyun spent five years experimenting in the fields, only selecting seeds based on large ears and abundant grains. How can you be so sure that hybridizing disease-resistant rice with high-yield rice will create a good variety?”

He tapped the word “hybridization” with his finger. “The Complete Treatise on Agriculture never mentions such a mysterious method.”

Lei Qilong’s sharp gaze locked on Wei Lan, as if trying to find a flaw. But Wei Lan didn’t back down, meeting his gaze steadily.

“There are two principles,” she said, her voice as clear as an icy spring. “First, the offspring must inherit the traits of the parents. If the father is disease-resistant and the mother is high-yielding, about 30% of the offspring will possess both traits.”

Lei Qilong sat up straight. He remembered that last year, Xianyun had presented a strange rice plant. At the time, he had thought it a good omen, but hadn’t delved into its underlying reason.

“Second, everything evolves,” she continued. “Wolves and dogs are the same species. After a hundred years of domestication, the wolf’s ferocity gradually fades, and it eventually becomes a tame dog.”

Lei Qilong was momentarily stunned, surprised by her analogy. He furrowed his brows and asked, “What does that have to do with rice?”

Wei Lan replied calmly, “Just as millet evolved from foxtail grass, wild rice is the ancestor of cultivated rice. Over thousands of years of evolution and cultivation, foxtail grass turned into millet, and wild rice became the rice we know today. Though the process is long, if we intervene at the right moment, with the right methods, we can accelerate the process.”

The sunlight coming through the window bathed the desk. Lei Qilong gazed at Wei Lan’s figure and suddenly burst into laughter. “Dr. Wei, you are like the reincarnation of Shennong!”

Wei Lan had originally planned to advance her ideas gradually, but the sudden flood had completely disrupted her plans. The devastation in Changsha City was unbearable, and her resources were too weak. Time was running out. Could the people of the Ming Dynasty wait? She had no choice but to seek the government’s help and hurriedly poured out all the knowledge she knew, hoping to persuade Lei Qilong.

She said, “The inspiration for these agricultural strategies came from the Complete Treatise on Agriculture. I have traveled to many places, consulted with farmers, and studied on my own, which led me to these ideas.”

Lei Qilong put down his tea cup, took a blue-covered book from the desk, dipped his brush in ink, and said, “I am currently compiling the Changsha Prefecture Chronicles. A person like Dr. Wei, who works for the benefit of the people and offers suggestions for agricultural development, should definitely be recorded in the annals. May I ask where your ancestral home is? What are the names of your father and mother?”

The brush’s tip hovered over the paper, and a drop of ink silently fell, spreading into faint ink stains.

Wei Lan murmured, “The Changsha Prefecture Chronicles…” She suddenly realized that these ideas were too ahead of their time. If they were recorded prematurely, it might cause unnecessary trouble or even criticism.

Being ahead by half a step is genius; being too far ahead might be seen as a heretic.

“No!” Wei Lan suddenly stood up, her tone filled with urgency.

Lei Qilong’s brush paused, and he looked up. “Why?”

Wei Lan’s heart tightened as she realized Lei Qilong was determined to press the issue. She lowered her eyelids for a moment, then lifted her head, speaking with a hint of apology. “Lord, I did not fully tell the truth just now. I hope you will forgive me.”

Lei Qilong’s pen hovered in mid-air, his eyes filled with curiosity. “What do you mean, Dr. Wei?”

Wei Lan slightly bent forward. “I did not intend to deceive you. I simply do not dare to speak recklessly about supernatural matters in front of you. Since you asked, I must tell you the truth.”

She paused, then continued, “Last month, the Land Temple’s corner collapsed. Do you remember?”

Lei Qilong was momentarily stunned and nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

Wei Lan slowly said, “That night, I dreamt of an old man with a white beard holding a bundle of rice. He imparted this knowledge to me. After waking, I went to repair the temple roof, and in the incense ashes, I found this copper coin.” She took out a Hongwu Tongbao coin from her sleeve and placed it on the table.

Lei Qilong stared at the coin, his brow furrowed. “Are you saying that these agricultural strategies were taught to you by the Land God in a dream?”

Wei Lan nodded, her tone calm yet firm. “Exactly. I am merely a messenger. The secrets of heaven should not be revealed too early. If it’s recorded in the Chronicles prematurely, it might ruin the Land God’s plan.”

Lei Qilong remained silent for a moment, gently tapping the table with his fingers, producing a faint “tap-tap” sound. He shook his head slightly. “This dream story is a bit too mysterious.”

Wei Lan’s expression remained unchanged. “My lord, it is common for the people to believe in the divine, and the Land God is especially revered by them. I just hope you can wait a little longer and not rush to conclusions.”

Lei Qilong looked at her, his gaze deep and calculating, as if weighing the pros and cons. After a moment, he put down the pen, sighed, and said, “Very well. Since you say so, I will put this matter aside for now. However, I will keep your ideas in mind. If they prove effective in the future, I hope you will share more with me.”

Confucianism teaches us to “respect the gods but keep a distance from them,” neither denying their existence nor probing their truth, using them more as symbols and tools for moral education.

Wei Lan knew this well, so in her moment of urgency, she quickly thought of using the Land God as a shield. She was certain that Lei Qilong would never casually write something so mystical into the Chronicles.