"Okay! Okay!"
Li Er was genuinely happy.
Fang Xuanling was also happy because he had seen the effectiveness of the rotary tiller with his own eyes.
The method of improving the curved plow has been reported to the Ministry of Agriculture.
Next, they will be mass-produced and promoted in counties and cities across the country.
There is more than enough time to do it before the beginning of next spring.
With the rotary tiller, the Gyeonggi area can be used for pilot projects.
However, according to the feedback from the Sino-Agricultural Department, production is currently not possible.
What a joke!
This is high-tech, right?
As the Minister of the Left, Fang Xuanling naturally had a lot of pressure.
"Hey! I say...why don't we eat the eight-treasure porridge first? Let's talk while we eat?"
At this time, Cheng Yaojin interrupted the conversation again.
The whole person is a complete foodie.
Li Er was helpless, but his eyes showed his agreement.
Cheng Yaojin laughed and walked up to Zhuang Zhou, holding a wooden spoon and started scooping porridge.
Give Li Er a bowl first, then give Changsun Wuji a bowl.
Next came Fang Xuanling's bowl, and then Wei Zheng's bowl.
He was quite polite and scooped a bowl for himself at the end.
But I got myself an extra-large bowl.
Then what!
He actually went back to his seat with the bowl in his hand.
Zhuang Zhou: “???”
What about me?
I clearly took six bowls!
Can't you see such a big person?
Zhuang Zhou was speechless and had to scoop a bowl for himself.
"Hahaha, this eight-treasure porridge looks delicious! It looks so delicious!"
Cheng Yaojin opened his mouth and moved towards the edge of the bowl, from left to right.
"Slurp!"
A large bowl of eight-treasure porridge was immediately half gone.
Zhuang Zhou's face was filled with shock.
This guy is really a talent!
"Master Zhuang, you are truly an extraordinary person to be able to make such delicious food!"
"What strange person? He is an immortal who came down from the fairyland."
"Yes, yes, it's the immortal!"
Several people were eating eight-treasure porridge and boasting about it from time to time.
Cheng Yaojin had already finished all the remaining porridge in the pot.
At this time, even the bowl was licked clean, without a single grain left.
I rubbed my belly, feeling very timid:
"Damn it! This eight-treasure porridge is really delicious!
I, Old Cheng, love this sweet taste!"
Old Cheng?
Could this guy be that guy?
This big black face, this way of doing things, the more I look at it, the more similar it is.
Zhuang Zhou vaguely felt that something was wrong.
Could these guys sitting in front of me all be bigwigs in the court?
Thinking of this, Zhuang Zhou didn't even drink the remaining half bowl of porridge.
He looked at the big black-faced man called Ah Chou and asked:
"Are you the famous Duke Lu, Cheng Yaojing?"
Cheng Yaojin: “???”
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