March approached rapidly, bringing with it the Emperor's birthday—the Wanshou Festival—on the eighteenth. Thanks to a year filled with national successes, including the invention of glass, mechanical clocks, and the life-saving cowpox vaccine, the royal treasury was full, and the weather had been favorable. The atmosphere in the imperial court was jubilant, and the ministers proposed a grand celebration. Emperor Kangxi gladly agreed.
By early February, the Ministry of Rites had begun preparations, and the women of the harem were already desperately searching for unique gifts to stand out and capture the Emperor's attention.
Consort Hui had prepared a massive, natural red coral formation. While red coral was common in the royal treasury, this specific piece naturally resembled a flying dragon. It was a flawless symbol of auspiciousness. She had secured it earlier in the year but kept it strictly secret, intending to stun the court at the grand banquet.
For her son, the First Prince Yinshi, she advised caution. "You are only nine. You don't need to present anything extravagant. Write an elegant piece of calligraphy displaying the character for 'Longevity,' or have your tutor help you compose a clever essay. At your age, the Emperor values your academic progress above all else. Focus on that, and he will be pleased."
Yinshi frowned, feeling inadequate. "Will that not seem too cheap, Mother?"
"The Emperor owns the world; what treasure has he not seen?" Consort Hui smiled confidently. "Just prepare your calligraphy."
Yinshi hesitated. "I wonder what the Crown Prince is giving him."
Consort Hui's smile vanished. It was a valid concern. While Yinshi excelled in martial arts, the younger Crown Prince was vastly superior in academics. If Yinreng also presented calligraphy or an essay, Yinshi's gift would look pathetic by comparison.
"Start practicing your calligraphy," Consort Hui ordered grimly. "I will send someone to investigate."
Moments later, her head maid, Fangrui, rushed in. "Your Grace! First Prince! The Crown Prince is delivering his gift right now!"
Consort Hui was stunned. "Now? It's only the first of March!"
"Yes! He made no secret of it. He just walked out of the Yuqing Palace carrying a wooden box, telling anyone who asked that it was the Emperor's gift!"
Consort Hui clenched her fists, her political instincts screaming. "Find out what is in that box!"
***
In the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility, Yinreng eagerly presented the wooden box to Emperor Kangxi, who was currently paying his daily respects to the Grand Empress Dowager.
"A birthday gift?" Kangxi chuckled, amused by the boy's eagerness. "The banquet is more than two weeks away."
"I wanted to be the very first person to give you a gift, Imperial Father!" Yinreng declared proudly. "Besides, my gift is time-sensitive. If I wait until the banquet, it will be ruined!"
Intrigued, Kangxi opened the box. It contained no jade or gold. Instead, it was filled to the brim with harvested, unhusked rice stalks.
The Grand Empress Dowager leaned in. "Is this the crop you planted yourself in your glass house? You harvested it?"
"Yes!"
Concubine Daijia, who was serving tea, immediately recognized the political significance and seized the opportunity to elevate Yinreng's gesture. "How incredibly thoughtful of the Crown Prince. Your Majesty was just saying how your greatest wish is for a bountiful national harvest. The Crown Prince grew this with his own hands. No treasure could possibly compare to such an auspicious omen."
Kangxi's eyes softened with immense pride. "You actually managed to grow rice in the dead of winter using the glass house. Remarkable."
His mind briefly considered the national implications but dismissed them. The glass house was an architectural marvel, but it required constant heating and eight dedicated eunuchs managing the temperature day and night. It was an expensive, labor-intensive prototype, impossible to replicate for the average farmer.
"Since it's a gift, let the kitchens husk it," the Grand Empress suggested playfully. "We can cook it today. I'd love to taste the Crown Prince's labor."
Yinreng slammed his hands over the box. "No! Great-Grandmother, you can't eat this!"
Kangxi laughed at the boy's panic. "Not for eating? Fine, I will have it preserved in a display case so I can admire your filial piety."
"It's not a decoration either!" Yinreng insisted. "Imperial Father, this is 'seed grain'."
Kangxi looked blank. "You are giving me seeds? Do you want me to farm with you?"
Analysis: Yinreng realized his error. Kangxi was a brilliant statesman, but he had lived his entire life in palaces. He only knew rice as a cooked bowl of white grains; he had zero practical agricultural knowledge. He couldn't recognize superior seed stock if he was holding it.
Yinreng immediately ordered his eunuchs to fetch the leftover, standard rice seeds that Minister Songgotu had procured months ago. He placed the standard seeds next to the newly harvested ones.
"Look closely, Imperial Father. The seeds in the box are noticeably plumper, larger, and more robust than the standard ones," Yinreng pointed out. "Please, follow me to my greenhouse."
***
Inside the Yuqing Palace Greenhouse.
Yinreng pointed to the divided plots of land. "Notice the difference between Plot 1 and the others?"
"The stalks are taller, and the grain heads are heavier," Kangxi observed. "What does that signify?"
Yinreng motioned for Meng Jixiang, the eunuch managing the greenhouse, to step forward. "Jixiang, you farmed for five years before entering the palace. Tell the Emperor: have you ever seen rice like the crop in Plot 1?"
"Never, Your Majesty," Meng Jixiang said, his voice trembling with awe. "A normal, healthy harvest yields roughly three hundred to four hundred catties (jin) per 'mu' (acre) of land. Plot 1 is only one-tenth of a 'mu', and we have already harvested forty catties from half of it. Based on the remaining stalks, this specific breed will yield at least eight hundred catties per 'mu'. I have never seen such a massive yield in my life."
Kangxi froze, his imperial composure shattering. "Eight hundred? Are you certain?"
"I would not dare lie to the Emperor," Meng Jixiang bowed deeply.
"Imperial Father," Yinreng intervened smoothly. "Jixiang has been in the palace for years. His knowledge of outside yields might be outdated. Therefore, I asked Grand Uncle Songgotu to conduct a discreet, large-scale survey of current agricultural data. He should be arriving shortly."
Within minutes, Songgotu entered the palace, clutching a thick dossier of reports.
"Your Majesty," Songgotu began, his voice thick with controlled excitement. "I surveyed the imperial estates, my own private farms, and fifty-seven independent tenant farmers. The average yield for premium land, under perfect weather conditions, is roughly 370 catties per 'mu'. Furthermore, I reviewed the Ministry of Revenue's national data. Even the fertile southern provinces cap at slightly over 400 catties."
Kangxi inhaled sharply, his heart pounding. "You verified this?"
"Yes. I brought Minister Min from the Agricultural Bureau. He is from a peasant background and still personally farms his own land to stay sharp. He is waiting outside."
"Bring him to the greenhouse immediately!" Kangxi ordered.
***
Minister Min, a low-ranking official who normally never saw the Emperor, was terrified. However, the moment he stepped into the greenhouse and saw Plot 1, his fear evaporated. He practically crawled into the mud, examining the root systems and the heavy grain heads with manic intensity.
"Your Majesty! What breed is this?!" Min stammered, holding a stalk like a sacred relic. "The roots are aggressive, the yield is explosive! If planted on a large scale, this could easily double the best harvests in the empire! Double!"
Kangxi's eyes blazed with a terrifying intensity as he turned to Yinreng. "How did you crossbreed this? Can it be mass-produced?"
Yinreng's Internal Logic: Kangxi was too excited, asking complex botanical questions to a seven-year-old. Yinreng needed to feign innocence while delivering the solution.
"I don't know, Imperial Father!" Yinreng played the naive child perfectly. "I just remembered that crossing a horse and a donkey makes a stronger mule, so I wondered if crossing two different types of rice would make it taste better. I didn't know it would grow this much! I want to give all these seeds to you so you can test them on the imperial farms before the spring planting season ends. That's why I couldn't wait until your birthday banquet!"
Kangxi finally understood. If Yinreng had waited until the banquet on the 18th, the optimal planting window would have closed. They would have lost an entire year.
"Harvest it all. Immediately," Kangxi commanded.
Back in the main hall, Yinreng poured Kangxi a cup of calming tea. "Imperial Father, the imperial farms have excellent soil, but this is a critical experiment. A regular farm manager isn't enough. You need someone with absolute authority to oversee this, someone who can crush any bureaucratic interference."
Kangxi looked at his son knowingly. "You want me to appoint your Grand Uncle Songgotu."
Yinreng nodded honestly. "He procured the initial seeds, he gathered the yield data, and he knows the stakes. But there is another reason. A scientific reason."
Kangxi leaned forward. "Explain."
"When a horse and a donkey make a mule, the mule is incredibly strong, but it is sterile. It cannot reproduce. Furthermore, if you graft a strong fruit branch onto a weak tree, the fruit is good, but the seeds of that fruit often revert to the weak tree's traits."
The Genetic Reality: Yinreng was subtly introducing the concept of hybrid vigor (heterosis) and the F2 generation drop-off. First-generation (F1) hybrid rice produces massive yields, but its seeds (the F2 generation) experience genetic segregation. If farmers replant the harvested seeds, the yield drops drastically, and many plants become sterile.
"If these seeds succeed on the imperial farms, we will want to distribute them to the entire country," Yinreng continued. "But what if the seeds 'from' this massive harvest lose their special power in the next generation? What if they act like mules?"
Kangxi was stunned. He had been so blinded by the prospect of doubling the national food supply that he hadn't considered the long-term biological sustainability.
"What is your solution?" Kangxi asked, his pride in Yinreng swelling immensely.
"We must maintain the original crossbreeding process. I kept exact records of which two rice strains created this super-crop. Grand Uncle Songgotu must gather those specific parent strains again. Jixiang can teach the imperial farmers how to manually crossbreed them. This way, if the harvested seeds lose their power next year, we will always have a fresh supply of the first-generation hybrid seeds to rely on."
Kangxi laughed loudly, clapping Yinreng on the shoulder. "Brilliant! Absolutely flawless logic."
He turned to Songgotu and Minister Min. "Songgotu, you are in overall command of this project. Min, you will manage the agricultural execution. Coordinate with the imperial farms immediately."
Both men fell to their knees. Minister Min wept with gratitude for the opportunity. Songgotu, meanwhile, looked at Yinreng with absolute reverence.
First the cowpox vaccine, now hybrid rice capable of solving national starvation. Songgotu was convinced Yinreng was divinely inspired. The Hesheri clan was destined for absolute glory!
Yinreng entirely ignored Songgotu's fanatical gaze and clung to Kangxi's arm. "Imperial Father, do you like my birthday gift?"
"It is the greatest gift in the empire. Name your reward."
Yinreng looked down, suddenly acting incredibly guilty. "I... I really just wanted to make you happy. I don't want a reward. Just..."
"Just what?" Kangxi asked, amused.
"I haven't done my homework today," Yinreng mumbled. "Can you tell Tutor Zhang to excuse me?"
Kangxi frowned slightly. "Your curiosity is commendable, but your studies must not suffer. Why didn't you do it?"
"It's not that I was lazy," Yinreng admitted quietly. "It's because... I don't know how to do it."
Kangxi was genuinely shocked. Yinreng was a prodigy; Kangxi had never heard him admit defeat in his studies. "Show me the assignment."
A eunuch brought the scrolls. Kangxi reviewed them and sighed. "Tutor Zhang has advanced you to studying the 'Records of the Grand Historian'. These essay prompts are far too complex for a seven-year-old. It's a new subject; your tutor hasn't calibrated the difficulty yet."
Kangxi beckoned him closer. "Come here. I will teach you."
Yinreng hesitated. "Will that not delay your rest, Imperial Father? I see how exhausted you are every day, dealing with ministers and memorials. You just launched this massive agricultural project. You need to sleep. I can just wait and ask the tutor tomorrow."
Kangxi's heart clenched. He suddenly realized a profound truth. 'Was this why Yinreng never asked for help with his homework?' Yinshi constantly bothered him with questions, but Yinreng always handled his own studies flawlessly. Kangxi had assumed Yinreng was simply brilliant, but now he saw the truth: Yinreng was silently struggling alone, spending hours solving problems because he loved his father too much to add to his burden.
"Teaching you does not delay my rest," Kangxi said, his voice thick with emotion. "Teaching you 'is' my rest. Come here, Baocheng."
Yinreng smiled and ran to his father's side.
"Remember this," Kangxi said gently, stroking his son's head. "I am the Emperor, but I am your father first. It is my duty to guide you. Never hesitate to ask me for help."
"I understand, Imperial Father!"
As the sun set, casting a warm, golden glow through the window, the Emperor of the Qing Dynasty sat patiently at a small desk, explaining ancient history to his son.