Chapter Ninety-Eight Suggestions
At dinner time, Jiang Huan specially asked Xiao Zhao to prepare a few refreshing side dishes that Huo Lin usually liked, and also stewed a pot of warm and nourishing pork tripe and pepper soup.
"My lady, everything is ready," Xiao Zhao said softly.
"Okay, let's go."
Jiang Huan put the paper with the suggestion into her sleeve and went to the Imperial Study with the food box.
The imperial study was brightly lit, but Huo Lin was still engrossed in the mountain of memorials.
Hearing the familiar sound of wheels, he looked up and saw Jiang Huan, a faint warmth flashing in the depths of his eyes.
I told her she didn't need to send them anymore, but she always ignores me.
"Your Majesty," Jiang Huan said, turning her wheelchair closer to the imperial desk, "it's time for dinner. Please have some. I made pork tripe and pepper soup today; it's very nourishing and not too hot."
"Okay," Huo Lin replied, his voice a little hoarse.
He didn't really have much of an appetite, but looking at Jiang Huan's eager eyes, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
As Jiang Huan gestured for Xiao Zhao to serve the dishes, she casually moved closer to the imperial desk.
She learned of the Emperor's recent worries from his innermost thoughts. It wasn't convenient to give the Emperor this advice directly, so she decided to sneak it into the memorial.
If the emperor really recognizes that she wrote it, she can just say that she saw it by accident, which is not impossible to explain.
Jiang Huan's gaze swept quickly across the pile of memorials waiting to be reviewed on the table.
Chance.
Taking advantage of the moment when Huo Lin's attention was drawn to the soup bowl that Xiao Zhao had served, she deftly flicked her wrist, and the paper in her sleeve seemed to come alive, silently slipping out.
Jiang Huan's movements were as fast as a phantom. After doing all this, she immediately withdrew her hand as if nothing had happened, with only her fingertips trembling slightly, revealing the unease in her heart.
It was quite exciting to do something like this secretly for the first time.
"Your Majesty, would you like to try this soup?" Jiang Huan tried to keep her voice steady as she picked up a spoon, scooped out a small bowl of soup, and handed it to him.
Huo Lin did not notice anything amiss. He took the soup bowl, symbolically scooped a spoonful, and put it in his mouth.
However, Huo Lin had something weighing on his mind these past few days, and he seemed somewhat absent-minded while eating.
Jiang Huan watched as he drank two sips of soup, picked up his chopsticks and barely managed to grab a few pieces of vegetables, then showed no appetite. She felt both distressed and uneasy.
She suppressed the urge to press for answers and said softly, "Your Majesty, please enjoy your meal. I shall take my leave now."
Huo Lin's mind was already preoccupied with political affairs, so he simply nodded casually upon hearing this.
"Yes, go back and rest well. Your leg injury hasn't healed yet, so don't overexert yourself."
Huo Lin watched Jiang Huan being pushed away, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly.
She didn't look well.
[Tomorrow, have the imperial physician check her pulse.]
She didn't look unwell; she was just nervous because of what she had just done.
She never expected that even in his busy schedule, the Emperor would still notice her expression.
A warm feeling washed over Jiang Huan. She left the Imperial Study and returned to Weiyang Palace.
The note was sent out, but what was the result?
Will Huo Lin see this? Will he believe it? Or will he dismiss it as nonsense?
Jiang Huan didn't know how Huo Lin would handle the situation, but she hoped her suggestion could alleviate Huo Lin's worries a little.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Huo Lin had already plunged back into the arduous task of reviewing documents.
Time passed slowly, and the candles on the candlestick were replaced once more.
until……
"Huh?" Huo Lin paused, looking at him in confusion.
Deep within the folds of the memorial, there was a neatly folded piece of paper.
The texture and color of the paper were completely different from the bright yellow official paper used in memorials to the throne.
Who smuggled it in?
Huo Lin immediately felt a sense of vigilance and displeasure.
The Imperial Study is a highly confidential place. Who would be so bold as to put such a thing in the memorials he was supposed to review?
His long, slender fingers, radiating coldness, pulled out the paper and unfolded it.
The delicate and elegant handwriting immediately caught his eye. It looked somewhat familiar, but for a moment Huo Lin couldn't quite place where he had seen it before.
His brows were furrowed, and his gaze was scrutinizing.
Drawing water with bamboo tubes? Covering it with wood ash? What kind of folk remedy is this? And they dare to slip it into a memorial to the throne?
He instinctively wanted to crumple the note into a ball and throw it away, but when his gaze continued downwards, sweeping over the concise yet well-organized description, he suddenly stopped.
“Take a thick bamboo, remove the nodes, and insert it deep into the ground to find a water source.”
Bamboo tube? Deep insertion? Searching for uncontaminated shallow water?
Huo Lin's pupils suddenly contracted. The locust plague had polluted most of the surface and shallow water, but the deep groundwater was indeed uncontaminated.
An idea that he had never considered before suddenly flashed into Huo Lin's mind like lightning.
Using bamboo tubes as channels, they bypass the polluted surface and go directly underground to find uncontaminated water sources.
That's brilliant.
"A piston is installed at the top of the bamboo tube, which can be pulled manually to draw water, saving time and effort compared to a deep well..."
Huo Lin unconsciously held his breath as he rapidly considered the feasibility of this method in his mind.
Bamboo tubes are readily available and easy to make. The piston structure is also simple, eliminating the need for huge sums of money to excavate deep wells and stone walls, as well as the need to conscript a large number of stonemasons and laborers.
This method is feasible!
An indescribable excitement surged in his chest.
His gaze eagerly shifted to the next point: "The soil is compacted and needs to be deeply plowed and harrowed to loosen it. Immediately afterward, a thick layer of straw, dry grass, or wood ash should be applied on top to retain soil moisture and suppress weeds."
Huo Lin suddenly stood up. Although he was the emperor, he handled a wide range of matters and also had some knowledge of agriculture.
He immediately realized the brilliance of the method.
Deep tilling breaks up the compacted layer, the mulch reduces water evaporation, inhibits weeds from competing for nutrients, and the wood ash can also provide a small amount of fertilizer.
This is by no means a random, unorthodox remedy, but a pragmatic solution that directly addresses the core of the problem.
Straw and wood ash are readily available and require almost no cost.
It saves time and effort, uses readily available materials, and gets straight to the point.
Huo Lin's heart was churning like a storm; this was a method that no ordinary person could come up with.
This line of thinking is simply...
His fingers trembled slightly as he held the Xuan paper, and looking at the writing on it, he finally remembered where he had seen it before.
It's Jiang Huan!
She was the one who proposed a solution to the last drought, and she quietly wrote a suggestion this time as well.
This silent understanding and support, this timely and wise assistance, stirred his heart more deeply than any sweet words.
Huo Lin's heart, heavy and cold from the affairs of the state, pounded violently as if it had been plunged into molten lava, bringing an unprecedented heat and shock.
This is the person she likes, so intelligent, as dazzling as the sun high in the sky.
Huo Lin could no longer remain calm. He carefully unfolded the Xuan paper, his fingertips holding it with an unprecedented sense of cherishment.
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