Looking at the current scene, it was clear the crowd subtly looked to Zhao Jing as their leader.

And though he was young, his methods were seasoned, with a clear purpose behind every word and action. He had won everyone over with his knowledge and ability, and they held him in high regard.

The Lord County Magistrate found himself thinking more and more highly of Zhao Jing.

’If only Zhao Jing weren’t already married, I’d really want to snatch him up as a son-in-law. A pity, I was just one step too late...’

The County Magistrate thought again of the essay Zhao Jing had written, recalling the three paths to wealth for the common people.

The red pears were out of the question. The season had already passed, and the people had little stock left. Trying to sell them or make pear paste to test the market were both unfeasible.

Regarding the matter of growing medicinal herbs in the mountains, he had specifically summoned several old doctors for questioning and had them personally inspect the environment on the surrounding mountains. After rushing about for a few days, the old doctors brought back the good news he had been hoping to hear.

Then there was the large-scale farming of poultry and livestock...

The County Magistrate had someone move Zhao Jing’s dining table closer, shared a drink with him, and asked, "Where is that book now? Do you believe this method is feasible?"

"It is kept in my study at home. If Your Lordship requires it, I will go home and retrieve it today. As for whether the method is feasible, I believe it is. While my own household does not raise poultry or livestock, my father-in-law’s family once raised pigs, cattle, chickens, and ducks. I have observed my mother-in-law’s methods of animal husbandry and found them quite similar to what is written in the book. Although I cannot guarantee it will drastically shorten the time it takes for the animals to be ready for market, its effectiveness in making the livestock less prone to illness and gain more weight is obvious."

Zhao Jing added, "On this matter, I am ultimately not as knowledgeable as my brother-in-law. If Your Lordship wishes to investigate the details, it would be better to summon him."

In truth, summoning Chen Song for a detailed inquiry was also an option. However, Chen Song was currently on duty, and on duty outside the yamen at that, so it would take some time to call him over. Furthermore, Chen Song was the pillar of his family. Before he made his fortune, he had worked as a stevedore on the docks, helped build houses, and transported goods—he was never home. It was better to ask his son than to ask him.

And so, the County Magistrate did indeed summon De’an before him.

At first, De’an was thrilled. He even tugged on Zhao Jing’s clothes under the table. ’Thank you, Jing,’ he thought, ’for not forgetting me now that you’re successful.’

But when the County Magistrate opened his mouth to talk about pigs and then immediately asked about chickens, De’an’s mind went blank and his eyes glazed over.

’Shouldn’t the County Magistrate be discussing poetry and painting with me?’

’Shouldn’t he be praising and encouraging me, telling me to achieve even greater things?’

’Why is the Lord County Magistrate only talking about livestock?’

But De’an’s mind worked fast, and he quickly remembered the essay Zhao Jing had written for the first session of the county examination.

That essay had described three paths to wealth.

He knew all about these things. He was even the one who first reminded his elder sister about planting huangqi. Yet, none of it had made it onto his exam paper. After reading Jing’s paper, he could only slap his forehead and sigh, lamenting that his brain was just for show.

As for the livestock the County Magistrate was mentioning, if he wasn’t mistaken, the man was asking about expanding the scale of animal husbandry, right? ’Since he called me over, it must mean I can be of help.’

’How can I help?’

Before De’an had to think any further, Zhao Jing spoke up to prompt him. "My mother-in-law has to manage the household, so De’an sometimes helps feed the pigs and chickens. He has also personally witnessed a pig castration."

’Pig castration...’

De’an couldn’t help but squeeze his legs together, a sudden phantom ache shooting through his testicles.

But this was no time for aching balls. He had to seize this opportunity to perform well!

Even if not for himself, he had to help the County Magistrate as much as possible so that his father could achieve a higher status in the Lord County Magistrate’s eyes.

De’an racked his brain, recalling the words his mother had said at the dinner table earlier. "Never mind the chickens and ducks, let’s just talk about pigs. A castrated pig doesn’t have that gamey smell, and its meat is more tender. Furthermore, after a boar is castrated, its temperament becomes docile. It won’t get into fights all the time, nor will it knock over the trough or the pigsty. Even for breeding, ahem, it becomes more cooperative..."

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now that the topic was raised, De’an suddenly found he had a lot to say.

For instance, if you restrict a pig’s area of activity, it just eats and sleeps, sleeps and eats. It would be hard *not* to fatten up. Feed it several meals a day, and it could be ready for market in just over half a year.

He also mentioned that there were specifics to castrating a pig. In this regard, he was no authority compared to his father, because his father personally castrated all their family’s livestock.

’Huh? Did something strange just slip out of my mouth?’

By the time De’an snapped out of it, he saw Mr. Qi, who was standing behind the County Magistrate, blinking so hard his eyelids were about to cramp.

’A hero’s past shouldn’t matter,’ Mr. Qi thought. ’Never mind whether Chen Song used to be a traveling performer, a stevedore, or a carpenter. He’s a success now, an eighth-rank Deputy County Magistrate specially appointed by the court! Does he not care about his reputation?’

’And you! Bringing up your father’s unsavory past at every turn. It’s almost as if you’re afraid your father *won’t* beat you to a pulp, isn’t it?’