"Jiujiu, is what you're saying really true?" Everyone stood up in shock, their eyes wide with astonishment.
It was well known that in years blessed with favorable weather, the most one could harvest from a mu of fertile land planted with rice and wheat was four to five hundred jin. Yet, these three crops didn't require fertile land, they could grow on wasteland and still produce a yield of over a thousand jin per mu. In years of drought, they could save many lives. Could this really be true?
Yang Mengchen nodded.
"Does Jiujiu know how to plant them?" Old Master Yang asked eagerly.
Yang Mengchen nodded again.
Old Master Yang instantly began to dance with excitement, "Good, this is really fantastic!" Being a farmer, he naturally cared most about crops and harvests.
The others were delirious with joy.
"No wonder Jiujiu insisted on buying them, that ten taels of silver was truly well spent!" Yang Chengrong exclaimed with a mixture of admiration and excitement.