The Forgotten Variable
By April, the diplomatic delegations of the Mongolian tribes had dispersed from the capital. Tang Nineteen had also departed, vanishing into the Northeast to quietly construct the sleeper network.
With his geopolitical operations in motion, Crown Prince Yinreng returned to his studies. He ruthlessly drilled through mock exam questions, exhibiting a mechanical, almost terrifying efficiency that startled even the System—the multidimensional AI bound to his consciousness.
By mid-April, during a torrential downpour, Yinreng abruptly stopped his brush. He frowned, his analytical mind sensing a discrepancy. "I left a variable unchecked. What did I forget?"
[System]: You have optimized the Zunghar sabotage. Tang Nineteen is deployed. Your operational board is clear.
"No, something is missing," Yinreng muttered, rapidly reviewing his mental ledger. "Preparation requires absolute control over all active projects."
He paused. His eyes widened. 'Meng Jixiang and the agricultural experiment.'
"Useless AI," Yinreng snapped internally. "You cannot even function as a basic calendar."
[System]: My memory banks require manual queries! You did not input a reminder parameter.
As soon as the rain ceased, Yinreng departed the palace, riding swiftly to the suburban estate.
...
The Metrics of Flesh
At the estate, Meng Jixiang, a man only in his twenties, greeted him with a face wrinkled by an enormous, irrepressible smile. "Master, the experiment is a complete success."
Yinreng did not waste time on pleasantries. "Show me the data."
He strode directly to the rear enclosures. The physical difference in the control and experimental groups was staggering.
The hired farmers were buzzing with disbelief. "I've raised pigs since I was seven. I've never seen a beast pack on two hundred *jin* (approx. 100 kg) of meat in just six months!" one marveled.
Meng Jixiang handed Yinreng a meticulously maintained ledger. "Master, the variables yielded clear results. The white-skinned breeds outperformed the black-skinned ones. Pens Four and Five, representing the traditional peasant method of feeding strictly grass and meager scraps, showed the slowest growth—only gaining a few dozen 'jin'."
Meng pointed to the massive animals in the adjacent pens. "Pens Two and Seven are the primary successes. By utilizing the phased nutritional feed prescribed by Lord Lingguang, the piglets gained an average of two hundred and sixty 'jin'. The mature pigs gained one hundred and fifty."
Internal Monologue (Yinreng): I need a baseline to measure this against modern industrial standards.
He summoned the System. "Query: What is the average six-month weight gain for a commercially farmed pig in the modern era?"
The System processed the request and projected a sparse data table into his vision.
[System]: Data is limited. My original creator programmed me for imperial conquest and political domination. He did not anticipate my host utilizing me for livestock logistics.
"Your creator lacked vision," Yinreng noted coldly, scanning the holographic numbers. "An empire marches on its stomach." The data confirmed that while modern pigs grew slightly faster, his current results were highly competitive. The formula—adjusting corn, bran, bean cake, and bone meal based on the pig's developmental stage—was highly efficient.
He turned to Meng Jixiang. "Flawless execution."
Yinreng understood the mechanics of loyalty. Praise was cheap; tangible rewards secured unwavering devotion. He looked at the farmers. "Distribute twenty silver taels to every worker here."
He then looked at Meng. "You are awarded one thousand taels. Furthermore, I will purchase a private residence for you in the capital for your days off."
Meng Jixiang dropped to his knees, ecstatic. A private residence meant he was no longer just an imperial servant bound to the grounds; he was an autonomous asset.
Internal Monologue (Yinreng): Fifty thousand taels extorted from the Zunghars makes this investment trivial. Meng possesses high-tier agricultural administrative skills. A private residence gives him a base of operations for my future, off-the-books agricultural projects.
....
The Economic Blueprint
Yinreng returned to the palace and presented the ledger to Emperor Kangxi.
Kangxi stared at the data, experiencing profound cognitive dissonance. "You... the Crown Prince of the Qing Dynasty... have been farming pigs?"
"I merely established the parameters," Yinreng corrected efficiently. "Meng Jixiang executed the labor. Lingguang synthesized the feed formula."
Kangxi forced himself to process the reality that his heir was revolutionizing livestock. He swallowed his instinctive reprimand.
"Imperial Father," Yinreng continued, pivoting immediately to macro-economics. "We must establish feed manufacturing plants across the provinces. Every purchase should include a manual on phased feeding. For the illiterate, we establish free, mandatory public seminars."
"We now have state-backed cement, brick, and daily chemical factories," Kangxi noted, his gaze sharp. "If we add agricultural feed, the sheer administrative burden will crush the newly formed Ministry of Commerce. How do you propose we manage this?"
Yinreng laid out a binary economic model:
1. State-Owned Monopoly: The government builds the factories, hires the laborers, and appoints the directors.
• Advantage: Absolute centralized control. High resource mobilization for state projects.
• Disadvantage: Zero market competition breeds complacency. Guaranteed wages without performance metrics will inevitably lead to stagnation and laziness.
2. Private Enterprise: The state licenses the production formulas (like bricks and feed) to private merchants and gentry for a fee.
• Advantage: Free-market competition forces innovation. Merchants will optimize efficiency to undercut rivals, providing the populace with better, cheaper goods.
• Disadvantage: Loss of direct state control. Risk of monopolies, price-gouging, and quality degradation.
"If we choose privatization," Yinreng concluded, "the Ministry of Commerce must strictly enforce price ceilings and rigorous quality control inspections. Fraud must be met with severe, public legal retaliation."
Kangxi remained silent for a long time, analyzing his son. "Your logic is sound. Draft a formal memorial detailing these policies and submit it to me."
.....
The Calculus of Tantrums
Drafting an official imperial memorial was an excruciatingly precise task. It required rigid formatting, classical prose, and flawless logical progression. Yinreng spent days meticulously structuring his arguments.
When he finally submitted it, he discovered a bitter truth: Kangxi had already convened his ministers days ago. They had independently decided to keep cement as a State Monopoly, while privatizing bricks, daily goods, and pig feed.
Yinreng had been made to write a complex, time-consuming document for a decision that was already finalized.
Internal Monologue (Yinreng): He intentionally wasted my operational time to keep me occupied. This cannot stand. If I accept this slight without retaliation, it establishes a precedent that my labor is expendable.
Yinreng initiated a calculated behavioral strike. He refused to attend meals at the Palace of Heavenly Purity for three consecutive days.
On the third day, Yinreng entered the imperial study, his expression perfectly arranged into a mask of grievance. "Imperial Father, are you planning to depose me?"
Kangxi glared at him. "Who is feeding you such treasonous nonsense?"
"If you intend to depose me," Yinreng pressed, ignoring the question, "grant me the Zhuozheng Garden in Suzhou. Let me live out my days as an idle prince in the South. The climate is optimal, and I can invest in maritime trade."
The Zhuozheng Garden (Humble Administrator's Garden) was one of the four greatest estates in the empire—a sprawling, luxurious paradise of classical architecture and water features.
Kangxi was stunned. "I never said I was deposing you! Where is this coming from?"
"You ignored me," Yinreng said flatly.
Kangxi raised a hand and smacked the back of Yinreng's head in absolute exasperation.
"See?" Yinreng looked at him with calculated sorrow. "Physical violence. You have grown tired of me."
Furious, Kangxi ordered Yinreng grounded in the Yuqing Palace to "reflect on his studies." The court erupted into whispered conspiracies, assuming the Crown Prince had finally committed a fatal error.
The next morning, an imperial decree arrived at the Yuqing Palace: Emperor Kangxi had officially gifted the Zhuozheng Garden to Crown Prince Yinreng.
...
The Failsafe
Inside his quarters, Yinreng calmly filed the property deed away.
[System]: Host, you are playing a dangerous game. Antagonizing the Emperor for real estate?
Yinreng's expression was devoid of the childish petulance he had just displayed. "It is basic risk mitigation. I have learned to read his psychological parameters. A minor, controlled rebellion yields better results than constant, passive obedience. He gave me the estate because a father appeasing a throwing son feels maternal guilt."
[System]: But why do you need an estate in Suzhou? You cannot leave the capital.
"Because I do not rely on sentiment for survival," Yinreng stated coldly. "Historically, Kangxi turns on his heir. I care for him, which means I lack the ruthless detachment required to launch a preemptive coup against him. Because I cannot kill him, I must ensure my own survivability."
Yinreng mapped out his logic. "If his paranoia triggers and he moves to depose me, I will not allow myself to be locked in the Xian'an Palace to rot. I will negotiate an exile to Suzhou. The South offers proximity to ports and trade routes—an ideal extraction point. Furthermore, owning a physical, generational asset guarantees financial supremacy, even if I am stripped of my titles."
Yinreng smiled, a sharp, pragmatic curve of his lips. "Besides, he wasted my time. A multimillion-tael estate is fair compensation. Every action must yield a profit."
.....
The Vanguard of Progress
While Yinreng secured his fallback protocols, the first batch of state-backed pig feed hit the capital's markets.
In Sun Family Village, Aunt Sun trudged home carrying a heavy burlap sack.
"What is that, Auntie?" a villager asked.
"The new imperial pig feed," she replied, opening the bag to reveal the granular mixture. "Three sacks for two hundred copper coins. The government guarantees it will add two hundred *jin* to a pig in five months."
The crowd gasped. "Two hundred coins? That is extortionate! And there is no way a pig grows that fast. You've been swindled."
Aunt Sun sneered at their lack of vision. "You are blinded by your own ignorance. We fed our pigs garbage, so they stayed small. The state has provided the correct nutritional formula."
"You trust the state that blindly?"
Aunt Sun's logic was unassailable. "When the state introduced hybrid rice, our yields doubled. When the state introduced the cowpox vaccine, I survived a smallpox outbreak in the North unharmed. When the state invented cement, it paved roads that resist the rain. The state's operational track record is flawless. If they say this feed works, it works."
Her rational deduction silenced the skeptics. The village chief, recognizing a strategic economic advantage, stepped forward.
"We will test this systematically," the Chief ordered. "The clan treasury will subsidize the purchase of this feed for every household. If the feed fails, the clan absorbs the financial loss. If the pigs grow as promised, the households will reimburse the treasury from their profits."
It was a perfectly calculated risk. That single, decisive policy would soon transform Sun Family Village into the wealthiest livestock hub in the region, proving that true power lay not just in imperial decrees, but in the calculated execution of progress.