Chapter 226 - 159: The Warring States Era Is Probably About to Begin

Words : 2261 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Modern autumn-harvest watermelons take about two months to ripen, and it’s more or less the same for ancient ones. I was sitting around waiting for some news and it just went ahead and ripened on its own. Only, this thing looks so... I’ve been thinking about it for over two months. After picking a few and patting them thoughtfully, I can’t help but feel that ancient watermelons look more like some big, dark-skinned cantaloupe or maybe a more spherical bitter melon. Anyway, it’s nothing like the huge watermelon I remember—way too small, only five or six catties each at most. Ah Man happened to come by. She was really curious about these fruits, which even I treated as a big deal, assigning people to guard them through typhoon season. She flicked her bean-sprout brows and started patting the watermelon just like me, asking curiously, "It’s finally ripe? Is this kind of melon tasty?" Honestly, I really don’t know. This watermelon doesn’t look like the ones back home. I hesitated. "Theoretically, it should taste pretty good. Sweet and refreshing." "Sweet? Should we try it?" Sweet is good! Ah Man immediately looked interested, cradling the melon in her arms and asking, "How do you eat this kind? Is it like pumpkin?" This is my first try growing them, so not many melons set. Originally, I was planning to secretly keep them all to myself, but it’s no big deal if Ah Man joins in. I immediately said, "No need to cook it, just cut it open and eat it raw." Ah Man instantly drew the dagger from her waist, flashed her blade and sliced the watermelon in two with one chop. She kept the bigger half for herself, gave me the smaller half, then dove mouth-first right in. She took one bite and instantly spat it out, spitting repeatedly. "What is this crap melon? Where’s the sweetness? It’s straight up bitter!" I looked down at my half of the watermelon, a bit dumbfounded. Ancient watermelons, once opened, didn’t have a hint of red flesh—inside they were white, with a touch of light green, and just the faintest hint of yellow in the center. The seeds were ridiculous, absolutely everywhere. Anyone with a phobia of clustered holes would run screaming. Ah Man spat a few more times to clear out the seeds, then eyed me suspiciously. Unhappy, she said, "What’s up with this? Sure, you’re the lord now, but you can’t just scam people. Have you even eaten this melon before?" "Of course I’ve eaten it!" Watermelon’s been my thing since I was a kid—I know it like the back of my hand. Back then, my uncle’s factory would give out watermelons every summer; Meng Ziqi and I could finish off three in a single day over summer break. It totally topped my list of favorite fruit. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have felt so nostalgic just seeing the seeds. But how did things end up so wrong? I pried open the smaller half, took a careful bite of the whiteish, greenish, slightly yellow pulp, and tried to savor it. Sure enough, it’s really juicy and does quench your thirst—so it ticks the basic watermelon box. But flavor-wise... not a hint of sweetness, more like the vague bitterness of squash. Plus, the seeds were way too dense. Hard to take a bite; even harder to swallow. Seeing me eat it too, Ah Man’s suspicion faded—for once, she didn’t think I was messing with her. She hacked the watermelon some more, picked a piece, scooped out the seeds, tried it, and still... same deal. Tastes like nothing, watery, faintly bitter, totally unappetizing. She grew even more puzzled. "Maybe you didn’t grow it right? Should I go find an old farmer to try again?" "What’s there to mess up growing watermelons? If it grew and fruited, there’s nothing wrong with the way I planted it!" I gnawed off another bite, quietly spitting out seeds. Pretty sure it’s just the variety—that’s probably just how ancient watermelons were. Basically a bag of water, nothing tasty about it. But when I read online novels before, all those time travelers back on Qidian would always grow watermelons in the past. How did they manage to get big, red, modern-style melons? Did they bring modern watermelon seeds with them when they crossed over? Honestly, you can’t trust a word from NovelFires. Those guys eat bamboo and shit mats—they’re making shit up as they go! I used to have high hopes for watermelon: thought it would be the perfect cash crop—not picky about soil, grows on sand or hills, stores well, high yield, tasty, thirst-quenching, packed with vitamins. I was all set to promote it big time in my territory. Turns out, ancient watermelons and modern watermelons aren’t even related—they might as well be two different fruits. Ah Man had already tossed her watermelon aside. If something tastes good, she’ll fight you to eat it, impossible to stop her. But if it’s nasty, no one throws it away faster. She was definitely bummed it wasn’t sweet, but still glanced around at the sea of seeds and asked, "This stuff really isn’t tasty. Do you still want to grow it?" I couldn’t let my own "bitter fruit" go to waste, so I finished my half, chalking it up as experimental data. After a pause, I sighed, "Let’s plant some near the port. As for growing it en masse... let’s wait and see." Ancient watermelons taste awful, can’t synthesize carotenoids at all, so there’s no hint of sweetness; plenty of cucurbitacins, though, making them bitter as hell. Probably because they haven’t been selectively bred over generations. So, no point pushing large-scale planting. But they’re still useful—as a water supply. They hold a lot of fresh water and can be used as reserve water for long voyages, so we’ll just grow enough for naval use. Ordinary folks don’t need to eat them for now. I’ve been thinking of how to solve the drinking water problem at sea for a while. The freshwater on ships is a nightmare. Right now, voyages are short, so it’s manageable. But go a bit farther, say two or three days out, and onboard water will turn foul and even grow maggots. You can’t drink it and it’ll make you sick. With watermelons on board, it should be much better. I heard the ancient Romans used to munch on watermelons as they crisscrossed the Mediterranean on their ships. Sooner or later, I’m going to be sailing around the Seto Inland Sea, so clean water is something I need to plan ahead for. After all, my next phase of army building will probably focus on the navy, and chances are, I’ll be at sea long-term myself. So, even if it’s just for my own sake—to avoid getting grossed out—I have to plant some watermelons. Of course, if we keep growing ancient watermelons, maybe we can selectively breed them. Who knows—maybe in my lifetime I’ll get to eat a proper, modern watermelon in the past. Also, roasted watermelon seeds are super nutritious, so promoting them as a snack could be great for the economy and improve the locals’ health. Either way, after all this trouble, no way am I letting it go to waste. I’ll squeeze any value I can out of watermelons, no two ways about it. Ah Man couldn’t care less. She didn’t even ask why. Whatever we grow or build or make in the territory, that’s all up to me—even if she thinks she’s smarter, she’ll admit this isn’t her domain. Seriously: all the wild stuff I’ve cooked up to make money, even people like Endo Chiyoda and Maeshima Shichiro are impressed. Only, everyone in this era is obsessed with "character and integrity," so no one ever praises me to my face—don’t want to be accused of sucking up or lose the respect of their colleagues, or for me to think less of them. But secretly, they’re totally impressed. Otherwise, when I dragged their whole families to New Wanjin to fight for a piece of the pie, would they have cooperated so well? Not one objection. That’s the kind of trust that comes from me pulling off "miracles" again and again, the sort of faith that I’ll accomplish big things, and a willingness to ride my coattails and take a risk for a better future. So Ah Man didn’t say a word. Otherwise, according to her character, if I wanted to grow such awful-tasting melons, she’d definitely have to grumble some "harsh advice"—I wouldn’t listen, stubbornly do it anyway, and then she’d go vent to Ah Qing about how I wasn’t much of a smart leader. But now, we can skip this whole script. At least when it comes to production and building stuff, she’s stopped giving out "harsh advice." Anything else, we’ll see—if a year rolls by and I still haven’t produced a son, then she’ll definitely have some "tough love" for me again. She didn’t bring up the cursed ancient watermelons again. She’s never touching another bite; might as well go gnaw a fried chicken leg. She just reached into her robe and handed me a letter. "Here, it’s news about Oda Nobuaki." This was her real reason for coming to see me. I immediately took the letter and read through it. After a moment, I sighed. "Nagano Castle’s back in Oda Nobunaga’s hands again..." Oda Nobuaki wasted a ton of effort, finally became lord of Nagano Castle, then kicked the bucket less than a year later. His eldest son wasn’t of age and, to make it worse, seemed to have been so spooked, he voluntarily handed Nagano Castle back to Oda Nobunaga, only hanging onto a few manors outside the city. Now there’s all sorts of rumors swirling around Nagano Castle—tons of people are saying Oda Nobuaki was assassinated by Oda Nobunaga’s men, and Nobuaki’s oldest son, Oda Nobushige, being the classic "tiger dad, loser son," probably bought into it too. Ah Man didn’t care. She said casually, "Oda Nobuaki broke his sacred vow, so he kinda got what was coming. I guess the oath worked after all." I don’t buy all that feudal superstition. Keeping an oath to me is just a matter of morals, but I didn’t argue with Ah Man. I simply nodded and asked, "Any news from Qingzhou City? Is there any sign that Oda Nobunaga was really involved in this?" Honestly, from the end results, Nagano Castle is back with Oda Nobunaga, most of Oda Nobuaki’s retainers and followers have also switched over, so Nobunaga made out like a bandit—his power’s taken a huge leap overnight. It really does feel like he orchestrated things, had Nobuaki quietly offed, and then tried to blame it all on the leftover branch of the Oda family in Qingzhou. Ah Man shook her head. "There are a few sketchy rumors from Qingzhou. I heard Oda Nobunaga’s furious and has already sent Shinjomaru to personally hunt down Sakai Sunbajiro. He’s got to bring back his head—so there should be news soon. Also, I think Oda Nobunaga wants to marry one of his sisters to Oda Nobushige, to show he supports the Nobuaki line and isn’t ungrateful." "Sending off another sister?" I blinked in surprise—not because I care about cousin marriages, but just a bit stunned that Oda Nobunaga’s suddenly gotten addicted to marrying off his sisters. In ancient and medieval Japan, cousin marriages between paternal cousins were totally normal, even mainstream. Realistically, marriages between full siblings or half siblings weren’t uncommon, all so they could "keep the bloodline pure" and supposedly "produce talent." Ah Man fished out her little notebook, flipped through it, and answered, "Looks like there will be a marriage, but who it is hasn’t been decided yet." "All right then!" I didn’t much care who got married—these tie-the-knot moves were always about political alliances, so it hardly mattered. I asked, "Any other news?" Ah Man flipped her notebook again, then remembered something. She quickly said, "Right, didn’t you ask about a woman called Aichi before? Well, you didn’t even need to look—she got found. Oda Nobuaki’s only legitimate, most beloved little daughter is named Aichi. Apparently, Oda Nobunaga’s already ordered for her to be brought to Qingzhou City to be raised by him. She’s going to be Princess Ichi now." She paused, then thought back and asked uncertainly, "You did mention wanting to find someone called Oda Ichi before, right? Was it this Oda Ichi, or just someone with the same name?" I never expected "Japan’s Warring States number one beauty" Oda Ichi to just pop up out of nowhere. Completely caught off guard, honestly—I’d never realized she was Oda Nobunaga’s cousin, with such a big age gap. Basically, he raised her like his own daughter. But I kept a poker face and quickly patched up my slip: "Of course not. And I wasn’t looking for her specifically—it was just that, when I first got to Owari, I mixed up Nobuaki and Shinshu, thought Aichi was Shinshu’s daughter." Ah Man nodded heedlessly. Her worldview is nowhere near the "crossing over" or "prophecy" kind of genre yet, so she pretty much bought my explanation and decided it wasn’t important. She promptly scratched Oda Ichi’s name off her little notebook, signaling she wouldn’t waste any more intelligence resources on her, and I, after playing dumb, was left a little dazed. So, "Princess Ichi" has shown up at last. History is lining up after all. That probably means the real Warring States Era is about to begin.

Chapter 226 - 159: The Warring States Era Is Probably About to Begin

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