There were so many people, because many of the people were getting impatient and took out sickles to help.
"The common people... are still mostly so simple and honest." Yin Li said with some emotion.
Luo Xi wasn't the only one unwilling to leave; everyone who came to watch remained motionless, waiting for the final outcome.
It's good to have many people working; in just a short while, all the wheat had been harvested.
After spending some more time weighing, they finally arrived at the part they were most concerned about: yield per acre!
"Strategist, how many?" Luo Xi asked.
"This, this, this..." Yin Li's hand holding the paper trembled uncontrollably: "Impossible, I must have miscalculated. Boss, please wait, let me calculate it again."
He rubbed his eyes and started using the abacus again, but the result was still the same.
Yin Li had to believe that their manor had truly had a bumper harvest this time.
"Boss, the yield is eight shi per mu!"
...
"This is impossible! How could this be?" The crowd erupted in an uproar.
In their Tongning County, even the best fields yielded only three shi per mu, while in the entire Tianqi Dynasty, the best yield was at most four shi.
Eight stones, it's like a dream.
The first reaction of those landlords and gentry was whether Luo Xi had deliberately staged a play to deceive everyone.
It's much simpler for ordinary people.
“That’s great! My family planted seven mu, and we can harvest fifty-six shi (a unit of dry measure) in time. We won’t go hungry for the whole year.”
"Yes, although we only have five mu, there are few of us in the family, so it's enough for us to eat. Besides, didn't the head of the family say that after the harvest, we can prepare the fields and plant other things? We won't have to worry about not having anything to eat."
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