Chapter 196: Sweet Sorghum and Sea Aster

Zhao Yingong smiled and said, “If Your Excellency has this intention, I can certainly lend a hand.”

Sun Yuanhua stroked his beard in silence. When Zhao Yingong had just mentioned “military farming,” he had already vaguely understood the other party’s meaning. It was true that the price of land for military farming in Dengzhou was very cheap, but managing land reclamation was a complex undertaking that required a great deal of investment. The person in charge had to be able to endure hardship and be sufficiently shrewd and capable. It was not an easy way to get rich. This man had given up a comfortable life in Hangzhou and Guangdong to come here and reclaim wasteland. What was his real purpose? He couldn’t help but become suspicious of Zhao Yingong’s motives.

If it weren’t for the strong recommendation of Zhao Yingong by the Hangzhou church and the Jesuits, he would have offered some empty words and then served tea to see him off. But since this person had been recommended by the Jesuits and had gained the trust of the Hangzhou church, it meant he was “reliable”—especially the attitude of the Jesuits. Although the Jesuits were “not of our kind,” they were at least unrelated to the terrible internal strife and factional struggles within the court. What Sun Yuanhua feared most was not the foreigners from overseas or the Tartars of the Later Jin, but the powerful figures in the court and the palace.

He asked tentatively, “The Dengzhou, Laizhou, and Qingzhou area has no fertile fields, and the land is mostly saline and alkaline. I wonder if you have any ingenious methods for reclaiming wasteland?”

Zhao Yingong knew that his proposal for military farming was a bit abrupt—a matter with no apparent benefit would always arouse suspicion. He was prepared for this and immediately ordered Ji Ying to present a box.

Sun Yuanhua opened the box. Inside was a pinch of crop seeds, several dried stalks, and a gray dried vegetable. Sun Yuanhua had some knowledge of agriculture and immediately recognized the seeds as those of the common lusu from the Jiangnan region. It was occasionally grown in villages by the river and the sea, and was actually a type of sorghum.

Sorghum was a common crop in the north, and Sun Yuanhua was no stranger to it. Although lusu had the advantages of not being picky about soil or climate and was well-suited to the barren lands of the Eastern Three Prefectures, its best yield per mu was only about three hundred jin, offering no advantage over the commonly grown millet and soybeans. Moreover, it was coarse to eat and unpopular as a food crop.

“This is lusu, a type of sorghum,” Sun Yuanhua said dismissively. “What’s so special about it?”

Zhao Yingong thought to himself that Old Sun, as a disciple and son-in-law of an agronomist, was indeed worthy of his reputation. He had actually recognized it as lusu, proving he was not someone who couldn’t tell one grain from another. He said, “Since Your Excellency knows this is lusu, you must also know the wonderful use of its stalks?”

“When the shoots are green, the stalks are very sweet. Country children often eat them as a sweet treat.”

“Exactly. Since the stalks of this plant are sweet, they can be used to make sugar and wine…”

“Make sugar and wine?” Sun Yuanhua was taken aback. Wine was made from grain or fruit; he had never heard of making wine from stalks. What would that taste like? And making sugar from stalks was even more incredible. Sun Yuanhua knew that various grains like millet and sorghum could be used to make “sugar syrup”—which was actually maltose. Stalks were used either as feed for cattle, sheep, and horses, or as fertilizer to return to the fields. Now someone was telling him they could be used to make sugar and wine; of course, he found it hard to believe. He shook his head in disbelief.

“This is a secret method I learned from the Australians,” Zhao Yingong said in a low voice. “Your Excellency must know that the Australians have secret techniques in both agriculture and industry, which can often lead to wealth?”

Sun Yuanhua nodded. He had heard such claims before. For example, he had once sent people to buy a considerable amount of the “Peerless Scholar” wine sold by the Australians in Guangzhou to use as gifts. After studying this ridiculously expensive wine, he concluded that the so-called “Peerless Scholar” was just exceptionally well-distilled spirits.

Although it was just spirits, he knew he didn’t have the skill to build a sophisticated still to produce such wine. If the Australians indeed had a way to make sugar and wine from lusu stalks, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Half-believing, he picked up the dried vegetable and examined it. It was grayish-black in color, with nothing unusual. There were some traces of salt frost on the leaves.

“This is sea aster,” Zhao Yingong introduced. “It is salt-tolerant and drought-resistant. In famine years, it can save countless lives.”

Sun Yuanhua nodded with a look of appreciation. Natural disasters were frequent in the late Ming, and agronomists paid great attention to the study of surviving famines. Finding and trying various edible wild vegetables became a common practice for them. There were many books like the “Manual of Wild Vegetables” that specifically introduced the appearance, origin, and eating methods of wild vegetables.

“This is indeed beneficial to the country and the people,” Sun Yuanhua said. “Could it also be from Australia?”

Zhao Yingong said, “This plant is abundant on the coast of the Southern Directly-Administered Region and can grow anywhere, but few people know of it. Only the salt workers and fishermen on the coast eat it. I believe it can also be introduced to the coastal areas of the Eastern Three Prefectures, and it doesn’t need cultivation. Although it’s not a major solution, it can provide temporary relief in emergencies.”

This speech greatly moved Sun Yuanhua and piqued his interest in land reclamation. They then had a discussion about local agriculture. The Eastern Three Prefectures were, first, mountainous and hilly, and second, had a lot of coastal saline-alkaline land. Even a contemporary agronomist like Sun Yuanhua had a headache trying to figure out how to improve agriculture there.

Zhao Yingong then showed off what he had heard and learned in the old world, combined with what he had picked up at the South China Sea Farm. Although they were minor details, many of the concepts and ideas were very novel, especially some of his views on the development of the mountains and hills in the Eastern Three Prefectures, which made Sun Yuanhua feel as if he had met a kindred spirit.

Zhao Yingong then proposed that he wanted to recruit refugees from all over Shandong to reclaim wasteland in the Dengzhou and Laizhou area, and hoped to be given official sanction to avoid trouble from local authorities.

“As for recruiting refugees, in the Eastern Three Prefectures, you can first register with the Governor’s Yamen. I will issue orders to the various prefectures and counties to allow you to act at your discretion. But the Western Three Prefectures are difficult to handle.” Sun Yuanhua expressed his difficulty, as the Western Three Prefectures were under the jurisdiction of the Governor of Shandong, and he could not interfere.

“However, refugees have feet—”

“I understand,” Zhao Yingong said quickly.

“It’s good that you understand,” Sun Yuanhua laughed. The two then talked about the flood in Yizhou and the current situation, gradually moving on to the court’s predicament. He suddenly asked Zhao Yingong, “Mr. Zhao, in your opinion, what is the court’s top priority right now?”

Zhao Yingong was taken aback. This seemed to be a test. He was neither Sun’s advisor nor his subordinate, so it seemed strange for him to suddenly be asked about such a major policy matter.

He pondered Sun Yuanhua’s intention, composed himself, and said, “The court’s top priority is neither suppressing bandits nor resisting the barbarians, but raising funds.”

“Raising funds?” Sun Yuanhua said. “Mr. Zhao’s insight is indeed unique.” He nodded. “That makes sense. Whether the court is training troops, suppressing bandits, or resisting the barbarians, the most critical thing is funds!”

“Your Excellency is absolutely right. Funds are the source of soldiers. As long as there are sufficient funds, why worry about not being able to recruit elite troops and brave generals, and why worry about not being able to defeat the enemy?” Zhao Yingong’s words were entirely in line with the thinking of the time. But his words were not wrong: the entire situation in the late Ming was almost completely ruined by the Ming court’s terrible fiscal policies.

When Sun Yuanhua, Zhang Tao, and others were training troops and planning coastal defense in Shandong, their biggest difficulty was the lack of grain and pay. The intermittent supply of provisions made the army unstable, and incidents of soldiers demanding pay and mutinying were frequent. With such an army, just maintaining stability was exhausting. How could they even talk about going out to fight?

Just a few months ago, there had been a mutiny on Pi Island in the Dongjiang Garrison over the issue of military pay. Although the matter was later resolved, it brought fierce attacks on Sun Yuanhua from the court. If it weren’t for Xu Guangqi and Zhou Yanru’s intervention, he would have had a hard time getting through it.

“Alas, the sources of funds are scarce. We can neither cut expenses nor find new sources of revenue,” Sun Yuanhua sighed.

Zhao Yingong said, “In fact, the funds were originally barely enough, but the losses are too great…” As he spoke, he subtly observed Sun Yuanhua’s expression.

Sun Yuanhua of course understood his meaning: the provisions were already insufficient, and with layers of exploitation by civil and military officials, it was considered good if three or four-tenths of it reached the soldiers. The Pi Island mutiny was also related to the commander withholding military pay. But this matter was too big and too complex to discuss in depth with a new acquaintance. He asked again, “In your opinion, where can we find new sources of revenue?”

This was Zhao Yingong’s strong suit. He immediately rallied his spirits and began to argue for the contribution of industrial and commercial taxes and overseas trade to finance. Of course, he used his beloved Song Dynasty as an example. He expounded on the argument that “the Southern Song, with only half the country, was able to resist the Jin and the Mongols for more than one hundred and fifty years, relying on the income from industrial and commercial taxes and overseas trade.” He mixed in a large amount of research papers and data specially retrieved from the Grand Library, and actually made a coherent case.

“A lofty argument, Mr. Zhao,” Sun Yuanhua said, nodding slightly but noncommittally after hearing his long speech.

Zhao Yingong suddenly became alert. On his first meeting with Sun Yuanhua, speaking so freely and loftily, regardless of whether he was right or wrong, would always give people the impression that he was superficial and arrogant. He immediately felt some regret and did not go any deeper, only saying, “I have spoken rashly.”

Sun Yuanhua laughed. “Not rash at all. I will have to rely on your great talent in the future.” He said, “As for your business, submit a petition to the yamen in a few days, and I will arrange it.”

“Yes!” Zhao Yingong bowed his head and replied, “I will always look to Your Excellency for guidance.”

“Of course, of course!” As he spoke, he picked up his tea bowl.

Seeing this, Zhao Yingong hastily stood up. Sun Yuanhua saw him out. At the front of the hall, Zhao Yingong asked him to stop, but the host refused. They went all the way to the entrance of the flower hall, and only after being stopped repeatedly did Sun Yuanhua turn back.

When Zhao Yingong left the Governor’s Yamen, he had already obtained most of what he wanted. The most important thing was a name card from Sun Yuanhua. With this, although he wouldn’t have free passage within the Eastern Three Prefectures, he could at least be generally safe. Of course, Sun Yuanhua also reminded Zhao Yingong that troops moved frequently near Dengzhou, and guest armies often passed through. These guest armies were mostly lawless, and theft and robbery were common. He was advised to avoid them as much as possible, and if he were to reclaim wasteland, he must build a stockade. As for his proposal to open a shipping company, Sun Yuanhua also expressed his support, saying he would arrange for someone to issue a license to ensure smooth sailing.