I, Am a Living Yama; Empress Advises Me to Stay Calm

Yang Yi brought out another batch of fruits for Ying Yinman, an assortment she had never encountered before. Their vibrant colors and exotic shapes immediately caught her attention. These were treasures he’d acquired through a system lottery.
She nibbled on each fruit, savoring their unique flavors. Some were sweet, others tangy, but all were delicious. Never had she seen so many exotic, out-of-season fruits gathered in one place.
The next day, Yang Yi decided to take her for a stroll outside the city.
As they walked, Ying Yinman’s eyes darted from one side of the road to the other. The bustling streets were lined with shops that gleamed with glass windows.
Vendors shouted their wares, and pedestrians moved about with an air of energy and purpose. Compared to Qin State, Great Zhou seemed far more vibrant, almost thriving.
Her curiosity spilled over.
“I had always heard that the State of Zhou was small and weak,” she remarked, her tone tinged with disbelief.
“But seeing it today… why does it seem so prosperous? Although Qin is a powerful country, how does Xianyang compare to Luoyang?”
Her words hung in the air for a moment before she stopped abruptly, her gaze locking onto a nearby stall.
“Wait, what is that?” she asked, her nose twitching as a tantalizing aroma wafted over.
“It smells so good!”
On the stall were several grayish items roasting over an open flame, their rich, earthy scent making her stomach growl despite her full meal the night before.
Yang Yi chuckled at her expression.
“That,” he said, “is a sweet potato. It’s a specialty of Great Zhou. It’s resistant to cold and drought, with a yield of one thousand catties per mu.”
Her head snapped toward him, her almond-shaped eyes wide with disbelief.
“A yield of one thousand catties per mu? That’s impossible!
“My father always said that the best grain yields in the Central Plains are in Tang and Song, but even in those well-tended fields, the most they manage is three hundred catties. Brother Yang, are you teasing me?”
Yang Yi’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Why don’t we ask and find out?”
Taking her hand, he led her to the stall.
“How much for a sweet potato?” he asked the vendor.
The man, whose weathered face was marked with years of labor under the sun, smiled warmly.
“Which one do you like, young master? I’ll weigh it for you.”
Yang Yi turned to Ying Yinman, who pointed eagerly at a medium-sized potato. The vendor wrapped it neatly and placed it on the scale.
“Five wen,” he announced.
Yang Yi handed over the coins and gave the roasted sweet potato to Ying Yinman.
“Here, try it,” he said with a grin.
She accepted it, blowing on the steaming skin before taking a tentative bite. Her eyes lit up as the flavor exploded on her tongue.
“It’s so good!” she murmured, her words muffled by another bite.
Yang Yi turned back to the vendor. “Brother, how was the harvest this year compared to last?”
The man scratched the back of his neck and gave a sheepish laugh.
“I didn’t take as good care of my fields as I should have, so I only managed eight hundred catties per mu. But Mrs. Wang next door harvested over a thousand catties per mu. It’s been a fantastic year.”
Yang Yi nodded thoughtfully. It seemed the tax incentives for sweet potato cultivation had worked wonders. This year’s abundance would bring not only prosperity but also stability.
Meanwhile, Ying Yinman froze mid-bite, staring at the vendor in disbelief.
“A yield of a thousand catties per mu? How… how is that possible?”
The man’s eyes gleamed with pride.
“Miss, I’m not lying to you. Thanks to Prime Minister Yang’s guidance, we’ve all had great harvests. At first, none of us believed it either, but everyone who planted sweet potatoes reaped at least seven to eight hundred catties per mu, and many exceeded that—over a thousand catties!”
The potato in Ying Yinman’s hands suddenly felt heavier. She glanced at it, her scalp tingling with shock. This humble food was delicious, yes, but it represented something far greater: a revolution in agriculture that had changed the lives of countless people.
Her thoughts swirled. The fields of Qin struggled to yield even half this amount. How could Great Zhou, once dismissed as weak and insignificant, achieve such abundance?
Her gaze lingered on the vendor, whose weathered face glowed with genuine happiness. In this moment, Ying Yinman felt a pang of doubt. Was the Great Qin she had been so proud of truly as mighty as she had believed?
Breaking her silence, she asked hesitantly, “You mentioned Prime Minister Yang. What does this have to do with him?”
The vendor straightened, his face alight with admiration.
“Prime Minister Yang is the one who introduced sweet potatoes and corn to us. Without his wisdom and leadership, none of this would’ve been possible.”
Ying Yinman frowned. “But isn’t Prime Minister Yang known for being ruthless and cunning?”
The vendor’s expression darkened slightly.
“Miss, you’ve misunderstood. Prime Minister Yang may be called the ‘Poison Minister,’ but he’s not cruel to us common folk.
“On the contrary, he’s the reason we’re living so well now. He’s dealt with greedy merchants, provided disaster relief, and ensured that we have food on our tables. Without him, who knows where we’d be?”
He spoke with such conviction that even Yang Yi, standing quietly nearby, felt a twinge of embarrassment. The vendor’s praises were so effusive that it almost felt like a hymn.
As the man continued recounting Yang Yi’s deeds, Ying Yinman found herself overwhelmed. She had always thought of the Poison Minister as a heartless schemer, but here he was, revered by the people he served.
As they walked away, Ying Yinman couldn’t shake her astonishment.
“Brother Yang,” she began, her voice tinged with awe, “Great Zhou has surpassed even the Central Plains in many ways. Fields yielding a thousand catties per mu, glass windows in every household. And this Prime Minister Yang, feared by the powerful but loved by the people, supports it all. The Empress of Zhou is truly fortunate to have such a minister.”
Yang Yi smiled faintly. “I think so too. Most importantly, Prime Minister Yang is not only wise but also extraordinarily handsome, elegant, and dignified. Truly a remarkable man.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Is he really that handsome?”
Yang Yi sighed dramatically. “Even I must admit that I pale in comparison.”
Ying Yinman blinked at him, her surprise giving way to amusement.