This group of visitors cried out in surprise. Although they had heard from the outside that the high-yield grain yield per acre was almost 2,000 catties, they were still shocked to see it with their own eyes.
Different from their shock, Jian Qingqing frowned.
"What's wrong? Are you still not satisfied with this yield?" Ming Zhiyan asked.
Jian Qingqing shook her head. "I'm too dissatisfied. It's still not fat enough."
Ming Zhiyan frowned after hearing this. He asked in a deep voice, "Miss Jian, tell me the truth. If there's enough fertilizer, how many catties can it produce?"
"5,000 catties is a given, but there's no such condition here. If there's enough fertilizer, 3,000 catties isn't a problem."
Ming Zhiyan's pupils contracted slightly. He originally thought that 2,000 catties was already a lot, but he did not expect there to be more. What kind of world did Miss Jian live in? There must be no hunger there.
