Chapter 20

As the head of the household, Old Master Song had always been the most anxious about their family’s livelihood. Every year, he would worry whether they’d have enough to eat.

But ever since little Sweet Treasure Xiao Tianbao arrived, their fortunes had improved significantly—they no longer feared hunger or cold. With such a bountiful harvest of sweet potatoes, how could he not be overjoyed?

Old Madam Zhou understood Old Master Song well. She wiped the corner of her eye and stepped forward, saying, “You old man, don’t scare little Sweetie.”

Second Son Song quickly comforted him, “Dad, with this sweet potato harvest, we’re one of the better-off families in the village now. This is a good thing, don’t cry.”

Although they hadn’t sold the sweet potatoes yet, they were delicious and filling. Since they were rare in the region, they’d surely fetch a good price.

The rest of the family also chimed in to comfort Old Master Song, but everyone knew he was crying out of happiness.

Little Sweet Treasure Xiao Tianbao giggled and gently wiped the tears from Old Master Song’s face, making him smile again.

“Let’s eat! Make something nice, eat up—today we’re harvesting sweet potatoes!”

With little Sweetie in one arm, Old Master Song waved his other hand, readying the whole family for several days of hard work.

This kind of harvest brought great joy to the entire family. Everyone was full of energy and excitement, and no one complained about the work.

Old Madam Zhou hadn’t expected the harvest to be so good. Knowing they’d be busy for days, she made sure their meals were hearty.

“Third Daughter-in-law, steam some sweet potatoes, cook some almond porridge, boil some eggs, heat up a few buns, and stir-fry some chili eggplant.”

At this time of year, the vegetables in the garden were mostly harvested, and peasant families typically had porridge and pickles for breakfast.

But since they were heading to the fields to work, they needed hearty staples to stay full.

Madam Zou agreed, and Madam Zhang went to pick eggplants and chili peppers, while Madam Zou washed the fresh sweet potatoes and eggs.

In a large pot, she boiled water and added chopped green beans. Once boiling, she added cornmeal, ground almond powder, and salt, letting it cook slowly.

In another pot, she boiled eggs at the bottom and steamed sweet potatoes on top while heating multigrain buns. After all that, she quickly chopped pickled vegetables.

The pickled turnips were shredded finely, mixed with chili strips, vinegar, and sesame oil, and left to marinate.

The almond porridge cooked quickly. Once it was done, it was ladled into a big bowl, and Madam Zou stir-fried the chili eggplant.

Like most rural households of this era, the Song family followed a “men work outside, women manage the home” setup. The daughters-in-law were all very capable.

But this didn’t mean women never worked in the fields—during busy seasons, they also helped out.

Fortunately, with many daughters-in-law, they could rotate duties and rest between shifts, which was better than most families.

Breakfast was generous. When it was served, the table was filled to the brim. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the sweet potatoes—rare treats for a family that seldom had anything sweet.

“These are homegrown. They look about the same as the ones we bought. I wonder how they taste,” Fourth Son Song Futian said softly.

His wife, Madam Liu, picked one up. “Let’s find out. I think they’re probably all the same.”

Old Madam Zhou nodded, peeled one, and saw that the inside looked just like the ones they had bought.

She took a bite—it was soft, fragrant, and sweet like honey. Delicious—just as good as the store-bought ones.

“Mmm, yes, just like the ones we bought,” Second Daughter-in-law Madam Zhang said after taking a bite.

Now the Song family could fully relax. The taste was spot-on, and the crop was abundant. A successful planting.

After breakfast, Old Madam Zhou stayed home to cook, Madam Liu watched little Sweet Treasure Xiao Tianbao, and the rest of the family headed out to the fields.

One ox cart wasn’t enough, so Old Master Song borrowed a neighbor’s ox and cart. The family rode off for the harvest.

Harvesting this early in the season was rare in the village, and curious onlookers went to the fields to see what this “sweet potato” crop was all about.

When they arrived, they were stunned. It was a harvest scene like they’d never seen before.

The Song family was pulling up sweet potato vines. With each tug, a whole cluster of sweet potatoes came out. Was that all from one plant?

The spectators rushed back to the village to spread the news.

“Hey! The Song family on the east end—they were growing some strange ‘sweet potato’ thing, and it’s actually yielded a harvest! The whole family’s out there today!”

“Yeah, I saw them heading out early this morning. But this year’s been dry—didn’t think any crops would do well.”

“No, I saw it myself. Their sweet potatoes are piled up already, like big fat potatoes—only larger!”

Excited villagers rushed to see for themselves, even the village head (lizheng) came.

The Song family had only harvested half a mu (a small area), but it was already piled high with sweet potatoes—a clear bumper crop.

The villagers didn’t yet know they were sweet and delicious. They thought they were just like potatoes, but even that kind of yield was enough to prevent starvation.

“Old Song, you’ve really done well. These sweet potatoes—amazing yield! I’ll need to report this to the county,” the village head said.

In those days, people depended on good weather for survival. Even in non-famine years, not every family could eat their fill.

If something like this could help people eat well, it might replace some grain crops—high yield crops like this had to be reported.

It was a good thing. If it could solve hunger, it would be a great deed—and the court might reward them.

Old Master Song nodded. “Alright, I’ll give you some to take to the county. I bought the starter from a southern peddler—it’s called sweet potato. The yield really is high.”

He didn’t even have to say it—the harvest spoke for itself.

The village head took some sweet potatoes and asked about the yield. Old Master Song gave a conservative estimate, knowing their extra-luck was thanks to little Sweetie.

Then the village head went off to report.

After watching the harvest, most villagers returned home, though some close friends stayed to help.

Cart after cart of sweet potatoes was brought back to the Song household. The family was all smiles. The villagers were mostly just envious—for now.

But no one yet knew if these could be stored long term. If they couldn’t be sold, that could be a problem. Even potatoes don’t fetch high prices when there’s a surplus.

Still, it far exceeded expectations. At first, everyone thought this new crop wouldn’t grow well at all.

Old Master Song, being clever, didn’t serve sweet potatoes to those helping with the harvest—he didn’t want word spreading about how delicious they were.

Though the villagers were honest folk and wouldn’t normally steal, if the food was especially tasty and nowhere else had it, who knew?

Once the harvest was done, he planned to gift each helper some sweet potatoes as thanks.