The rustling of golden rice ears blown by the warm wind and the yellowish turning of the rice leaves indicate that it is time for people to harvest.

Two round stone mills carved by stonemasons were put on the concrete floor of the peninsula, there was no harvester at this time, so the rice needed to be hulled with stone mills, and Wei Shuhuan and Li Gongyan, who came in a hurry, stopped the farmers who were about to husk the new grain harvested in the rice field, they needed a set of data, a set of data that could represent merit.

"Are you ready?"

"It's ready, brought from Chang'an, plus Lingnan's, a total of four rods have been prepared."

"Have you finished measuring the land?"

"After measuring, it is a total of 53,280 acres."

"Okay, now let the farmers pick all the rice on the concrete floor!"

Uncle Wei visually inspected the concrete floor of the peninsula and found that it was quite large, but he didn't know how much rice would be produced from more than 50,000 acres of land.

"Two adults, I thought that it would be a bit troublesome to find a few acres of land to weigh and calculate, calculate an average value, and calculate them all together." Since Wei Shuhuan and Li Gongyan came to fight horses, Sun Xiangfu couldn't say anything about harvesting rice, and could only say in a persuasive tone on the side.

"Then how can you make a count, verify the yield per mu of your new rice, it is required by His Majesty's explicit decree, the old man is doing things according to the order, how can he not be unsatisfied?"

Uncle Wei rejected Sun Xiangfu's proposal as soon as he stretched out his hand, and on the side, Li Gongyan, who was holding a pen and paper and preparing to record, also nodded in agreement, and it was also a loss that Sun Xiangfu was not a courtier, otherwise, he should stay away from here at this time to avoid suspicion.

Feng Ang specially summoned thousands of people to help with the harvest, and dozens of horse-drawn carts to help transport it, and within two hours, the rice on the Baiyun Lake Peninsula was piled up as high as a mountain, and this was only a small part of the harvest.

"This, this, why are there so many, there is not enough space."

"Let's beat the millet out first! In this way, the straw can be transported out first, and I hope that it will not rain for the next two days, otherwise the rice spread on the concrete floor will be washed into the lake by the rain, and the fish in the lake will be cheaper. ”

Seeing the piles of rice, Sun Xiangfu missed the threshing machine of later generations, but unfortunately there was no such thing in these years, he could only use manpower to grasp the rice and draw it to the wooden stake, Sun Xiangfu couldn't stand it after smoking a few arms, he was worried that he would not be able to move his arms for the next few days, so he thought of a way to let the craftsman make a gear mixer with hardwood, although it was to be shaken by hand, but it was much easier than whipping, and he could also shake it with two hands.

Then, soon, everyone found that the warehouse built in advance was not enough, in fact, Sun Xiangfu did not plan to leave all the rice in Lingnan at all, it was best to mill it into rice on the spot, load it on the ship, and transport it to Chang'an.

"How much did you weigh today?"

"One thousand three million pounds." Li Chunfeng, who was fiddling with the calculations, didn't even want to reply.

"Well, at this rate, we've got a few more days to do!"

Sun Xiangfu's estimate of the yield is still relatively accurate, just out of the weighing, he is confident that the yield per mu should be about 1,200 catties, because there is still a lot of water in the rice, it needs to be dried in the sun for a day or two before it can be put into storage, and if the wet weight is calculated, the more than 53,000 mu of land should produce more than 60 million catties of rice, and it will take more than 10 million catties to hit this day, and it will take four or five days to beat.

"In fact, you don't need to weigh it, the old man also knows that the yield of the rice you planted per mu must be more than eight stones, but in the end, even if the number on the paper is one pound more, the old man is also witnessing an unprecedented record, so it is not allowed to be sloppy."

Li Gongyan said, and walked towards the road to transport the rice, he wanted to have people pick up all the ears of rice that fell on the ground, for fear that the final data would be a little less.

"Yes, you two will guard this rice mountain! I'm going to prepare a meal for everyone. ”

When the farm was busy, everyone's physical exertion was great, Sun Xiangfu had people prepare a lot of meat in advance, and in addition, he also took out the two bags of refined salt that he brought back from Shen Tuyong two days ago and added them to the meal, so that everyone could eat more vigorously.

In this way, after five days had passed, all the rice had been beaten out, and piled up as high as a mountain on the peninsula, and when Wei Shuhuan reported the weight of the last stone of millet, Li Chunfeng quickly gathered the data at the end of each page of the record book, and came up with a very huge eight-digit number.

"Six thousand five million nine hundred twenty-eight thousand two hundred and fifty-two pounds."

"Six, more than 60 million catties?" Uncle Wei's lips trembled a little.

Li Gongyan's situation was not much better than him, with a pair of old eyes, repeatedly staring at the set of numbers written by Li Chunfeng.

As for Feng An, Feng Zhidai and others, they could only laugh silently with their mouths open.

"Li, Daochang Li, you calculate, how many stones per mu is this?"

Li Chunfeng, who was also surprised, didn't need to do any calculations after hearing Uncle Wei's request, so he wrote a number of ten stones and three on the paper.

"Ten stone three per mu, ten stone three per mu, oh my God!"

Uncle Wei's harmonious voice became sharper, and Li Gongyan was even more tearful, with this rice, the people of Datang will no longer have to worry about food in the future.

"Quick, take the excerpt, the old man wants to write a chapter, and send it to Chang'an in an expedited manner for 8······00 miles."

Uncle Wei excitedly beckoned the scribe on the side, turned around and picked up the pen and ink that had just been bookkeeping, as if there were a thousand words at the moment, and it was unpleasant not to write them out.

After receiving a dialect proclamation from Feng An, the people who helped the harvest suddenly turned into a sea of joy, and began to sing and dance with the farm tools in their hands.

In the whole scene, the only Sun Xiangfu who can keep calm is to silently calculate a set of data in his heart, the wet weight per mu is ten stone three, then after drying, it is about nine stones, and after the husking, there are almost six stone more than rice, which is about two or three percent higher than the planting record in the Northern Song Dynasty, and half of the credit is due to the fertility of the trial planting of this rice lake marsh.

Therefore, ordinary people planting this kind of rice, even if it is completely in accordance with his method, the yield per mu should only reach about four or five stone of rice, and it is normal for some to have more than three stones, which is comparable to the data during the Northern Song Dynasty.

One mu of rice yields more than 700 catties of rice, which is still a big gap from the yield of ordinary rice in later generations, not to mention compared with hybrid rice, this data is nothing gratifying or even shameful for him as a graduate student of Agricultural Science University, but how to increase this yield again?

This may require Sun Xiangfu to do a lot of work, to get out a lot of things that are not available in this era, which requires a more systematic planting research and development, and in this era to make inventions is not so easy, just a faucet design of Wangjiang Tower, let Sun Xiangfu spend nearly a hundred times, and finally solved the sealing problem with fish glue, not to mention some glass container equipment, this thing is made, but there will be a series of consequences, bad control, great trouble.

Just as he was wandering outside, Sun Xiangfu suddenly felt a strong force lift him up, it turned out to be Feng An, and then he was thrown into the air by the cheerful people.

"Oh, people in this era also celebrate in this way?"

Sun Xiangfu, who was thrown in the air, was caught by many palms before he could complain, and then he was thrown again, and he found that he was thrown higher and higher.

It turned out that everyone was going to push him up the high heap.

"The old man wants to paint, get the drawing paper quickly."

Although Li Gongyan is not a famous calligrapher and painter, his level of painting is not bad, and soon, he began to splash ink.

Sun Xiangfu, who was promoted to the top of the grain pile, was very excited because it was too high.

Looking at Feng An, Feng Zhidai and other pairs of expectant eyes, he knew that it was time for him to tell everyone a few words at this time.

"Simple Lingnan people, this is a victory for all of us."

After Sun Xiangfu finished saying this, Feng Ang immediately shouted out in dialect, afraid that his father's physical strength was not enough, Feng Zhidai used a louder voice to translate this sentence to the people.

"No matter how good the rice seed is, it also needs manpower to cultivate it, so let's become more industrious! Plant these rice crops all over our homes. ”

Sun Xiangfu knew that he couldn't talk to these people about what they said, they couldn't understand it, so he tried to use words that they could understand.

After Feng Zhidai translated Sun Xiangfu's words again, the people of Yimin once again let out a wave of cheers.

Lingnan land this year is not only Sun Xiangfu this rice field, the first batch of Sun Xiangfu breeding has five or six hundred thousand mu, which all need to be harvested together, so, in the next few days, these people are still busy, and Sun Xiangfu wants them to fall in love with this feeling of harvest, so a grand banquet to celebrate the harvest was held on the Baiyun Lake Peninsula.

Several kinds of dances that were ready to be performed for the emperor after arriving in Chang'an were also danced out by young boys and girls, not to mention, Lingnan people accepted this simple art form very quickly, and the bamboo pole dance began for a while, and many people felt that they could dance, and they all went down, and the hip dance was also, usually wearing less, and the people who were more open to the atmosphere were happy.

And all this was recorded by Li Gongyan with a paintbrush.

"This painting is good, and when you mention a poem, you can show the joy here."

Feng Ang looked at Li Gongyan's painting that was about to be completed, and praised it loudly.

"Hehe, when it comes to poetry, Zhengming is the best person in Chinese writing for me, and when he was Chongyang last year, he won a daughter-in-law with a poem!" Uncle Wei finished writing the recital, and also came over to make fun.

"Yes, yes, this painting of the old man, let Zhengming write the poem! Without him, there would be no harvest today. ”

Li Gongyan finally put away his pen and looked at his masterpiece with great satisfaction.

After a while, Sun Xiangfu, who was slowly squeezing from the crowd, was pulled to the table by Feng Zhidai, and Li Gongyan handed the brush to him, and he knew what it meant.

On the painting paper, all kinds of Lingnan people of different statures laugh and jump around the high grain pile, on the grain pile, Sun Xiangfu who waved his hand and spoke, although the whole painting did not use Yan Liben's painting skills, but it was also very vivid, seeing this painting, people can intuitively think of the scene of the scene.

"Hehe, I'm clumsy, I'm afraid of staining this good painting." Sun Xiangfu admired the paintings, his mouth was modest, and he was already carefully recalling the poems celebrating the harvest in his mind, but there were really not many that he could remember completely.

"It's okay, the poems come from the heart, you just write them casually." Li Gongyan is very generous.

"Then it will be ugly."

Since he said that he could write it casually, Sun Xiangfu would give him a slightly modified "Harvest Music"!

I saw him write with a pen in ink,

"In summer, the rice ears are yellow, and the fragrance is drunk in the hometown.

Busy and tireless, grab the Italian side of the long.

Singing with all his might, laughing and laughing tiredly.

Fengchang rewards sweat, and the New Year's banquet wine is fragrant. ”

The pen was closed, and everyone suddenly gathered around.

"Good poetry, this scene is also the end!"

Li Gongyan was the first to praise it, Wei Shuhuan also nodded and praised, and Feng Ang even kept in mind what Sun Xiangfu said about busy harvesting and grabbing seeds, as long as he Lingnan can provide a steady stream of rice for the Tang Dynasty, why worry that his Feng descendants can't be rich and glorious.