The rain stopped on the third day.
It didn't taper off gently; it simply ceased, leaving behind a world that glistened under a pale, watery sun. The air was crisp, smelling of wet pine and overturned earth. Outside the cramped mud-brick hut, the silence of the mountains was broken only by the chaotic bleating of sheep and the rhythmic *thwack* of an axe against wood.
"Deeper! You're just scratching the bark!"
Zhao Hu's voice boomed across the clearing. He stood with his arms crossed, watching Lin Mu struggle with a heavy iron hatchet. The boy was swinging at the base of a wild jujube tree, his technique clumsy and inefficient.
Lin Mu panted, wiping sweat from his eyes. "It's... it's harder than it looks!"
"Axe is heavy, wood is hard. If you use your arm strength, you tire in ten swings. Use your hips," Zhao Hu demonstrated, grabbing a spare axe from the ground. He didn't swing hard; he shifted his weight, and the blade bit deep into the wood with a satisfying *chunk*. "Like this."
Lin Chen watched from the side, his hands busy weaving a crude rope from twisted hemp fibers. He was sitting on a fallen log, the morning sun warming his back. The system had provided a blueprint for a simple loafing shed—a three-sided structure to protect the animals from the wind—and they were racing to finish it before the temperature dropped at night.
**[Construction Progress: Shelter Frame - 40%]**
**[Material Status: Sufficient timber, lacking roofing tiles.]**
"Brother!" Lin Mu called out, dropping the axe and rubbing his shoulder. "My arms feel like they are going to fall off. Can I read for a bit? Just one chapter?"
Lin Chen smiled faintly. The boy was exhausted, but his spirit was unbroken. "Fifty pages of the *Analects*, and then you help me mix the mud for the walls. We need to daub the cracks before nightfall."
"Okay!" Lin Mu scrambled away, grabbing his book bag and running to a sunny rock, eager to escape the physical labor.
Zhao Hu walked over, kicking the felled tree trunk towards the pile of lumber. "You spoil him. He's soft. If he were in the army, he'd have cried himself to sleep by now."
"He's not a soldier, Zhao Hu. He's a scholar," Lin Chen said, standing up and testing the strength of his hemp rope. "His weapon is the brush, not the axe. My job is to ensure his hands stay soft enough to hold one. My job is to be the shield."
Zhao Hu spat on the ground, though his expression was unreadable. "A shield made of mud and straw? This shed... it's just sticks and leaves. A strong wind will knock it down."
"Then we build it stronger next time," Lin Chen replied, walking toward the animal pen. "For now, it just needs to keep the snow out. Speaking of soft hands, how is the donkey's leg?"
"Tsk," Zhao Hu clicked his tongue. "Stupid beast. I smeared the herbal paste you boiled on its knee. It bit my shirt. But... it's walking better. It actually ate the hay this morning without spitting it out."
The "herbal paste" was a mixture of system-recommended plants—dandelion roots and wild ginger—that Lin Chen had foraged from the woods behind the hut. The system had identified them not just as weeds, but as anti-inflammatories.
"The inflammation is going down," Lin Chen said, checking the donkey's leg. The swelling had visibly reduced. "Good. We need him to carry stone tomorrow. We need a proper anchor for the gate."
***
By midday, the frame of the shed was up. It was a rough, ugly thing—four posts of uneven thickness driven into the muddy ground, connected by crossbeams. But it stood.
Lin Chen wiped his muddy hands on his apron. He walked over to the small, cleared patch of land near the stream. This was his true experiment.
Three days ago, he had planted the **[Ryegrass Seed Sample]** provided by the system.
He knelt, his heart beating a little faster. To the untrained eye, the patch looked like any other patch of dirt. But Lin Chen looked closer.
There, barely visible, were tiny, hairlike threads of green pushing through the dark soil.
**[System Alert: Ryegrass Sprouting.]
[Growth Rate: Slow (Nutrient deficiency in soil).]
[Recommendation: Apply nitrogen-rich fertilizer. Manure recommended.]**
"Fertilizer," Lin Chen muttered. Of course. He had animals now. Waste was wealth.
He stood up and walked to the corner of the yard where they had piled the manure collected from the pen over the last few days. It was a steaming, smelly heap.
"Zhao Hu!" he called out. "Bring the wheelbarrow."
The burly man looked at the heap of dung, then at Lin Chen. "You want me to move... manure?"
"I want you to move *gold*," Lin Chen corrected with a straight face. "This is what makes the grass grow. The grass feeds the sheep. The sheep feed us. It is the cycle. Come on, don't be shy. Even a hero needs to shovel sometimes."
Zhao Hu grumbled a string of curses that would make a sailor blush, but he picked up the shovel.
As they worked, spreading the thin layer of manure over the tiny grass patch, a figure appeared on the path leading up from the village.
It was Headman Li, accompanied by another man—a skinny fellow with a calculating face and a set of scales hanging from his belt. This was Shopkeeper Zhou, the local grain merchant and moneylender.
"Well, well," Shopkeeper Zhou said, his voice oily as he stepped over a puddle. "I heard the 'Young Master' had returned to the wilderness. I thought the wolves would have eaten you by now."
Lin Chen stopped his work, leaning on his shovel. He didn't let the insult rattle him. "Shopkeeper Zhou. The wolves are picky eaters; they prefer fat merchants. What brings you here?"
Zhou chuckled, though his eyes remained cold. "I heard you bought Old Man Zhang's goats and some sick sheep from the market. Word travels fast in the village. I have some grain left over from winter—moldy, but cheap. If your animals are starving, I can sell it to you. On credit."
"On credit," Lin Chen repeated. The trap. High interest, trapping the poor farmer in a cycle of debt.
He looked at the sheep. They were better, but still thin. They needed grain to bulk up before winter truly set in. But moldy grain would kill them.
"I appreciate the offer," Lin Chen said, his tone polite but distant. "But my animals have sensitive stomachs. They prefer fresh hay and clean bran. I'll pass."
Zhou's smile faltered. "Clean bran? In winter? Do you know how much that costs? You have silver, I know. The magistrate's daughter gave you money. Why hoard it? Spend it here. I can even give you a loan to build a real house. This..." he gestured at the shed, "...this is a pigsty."
"This is a ranch in the making," Lin Chen said firmly. "And I don't need a loan. We have wood, we have mud, and we have hands."
"Stubborn," Zhou shook his head. "Just like your father. He had pride too. Look where it got him. Dead, and his son shoveling dung."
Lin Chen's grip on the shovel tightened. A flash of anger sparked in his chest, not his own, but the lingering emotion of his predecessor.
"That's enough," Zhao Hu stepped forward, his large frame casting a shadow over the shopkeeper. He wiped his dirty hands on his shirt, leaving a streak of mud that looked dangerously like blood. "The gentleman said he's not buying. Leave."
Zhou looked at Zhao Hu, recognizing the air of a fighter. He took a step back. "Just business, just business. Don't get violent. Headman, let's go. I see there's no profit to be made here today."
Headman Li looked at Lin Chen with a complex expression—part pity, part worry. "Lin boy... winter is harsh here. If you run out of food, come to the village. Don't let pride kill you and your brother."
"I won't, Headman. Thank you."
As the visitors retreated down the hill, Lin Chen let out a long breath.
"They are vultures," Zhao Hu said, watching them go. "Zhou charges 30% interest. He was hoping you would default so he could take this land."
"I know," Lin Chen said. "That's why we must succeed. Not just for us, but to show them."
He turned back to the shed. "Come on. Let's get the roof on. I want to see the animals sleeping dry tonight."
***
That evening, the transformation was visible.
The loafing shed was finished. It wasn't pretty—the roof was made of overlapping strips of bamboo matting and thick grass bundles—but it was waterproof. Inside, the floor was covered with a layer of dry sand and straw that Zhao Hu had dragged from the riverbank.
The eight animals—three goats, five sheep, and the old donkey—were settled inside. They were no longer shivering. The air in the shed was warm with animal heat.
Lin Chen stood at the entrance, holding a lantern. He watched the animals chew their cud. The rhythmic sound was soothing.
"The breathing is better," Lin Chen noted, listening to the sheep. "No more wheezing. The garlic worked."
Lin Mu sat on a pile of straw nearby, his book closed. He was watching the animals with wide eyes. "Brother, look at the little goat. She's sleeping standing up."
"She's tired," Lin Chen smiled. He walked in and checked the billy goat's hooves, which he had trimmed yesterday. They looked clean. He took a moment to scratch behind the goat's ears—an area the system indicated was a 'pleasure point' for bonding.
The goat leaned into his hand, its eyes half-closing.
"Animals aren't so different from people," Lin Chen said softly. "Treat them well, give them shelter and food, and they will give you everything they have."
He felt a presence beside him. Zhao Hu was leaning against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of straw.
"You really care about them," Zhao Hu said. It wasn't a question. "Most people see livestock as walking meat. You see them as... partners."
"They are my capital," Lin Chen said pragmatically, though his hand was still gentle on the goat. "But yes. They are lives entrusted to me."
He turned to Zhao Hu. "The rain stopped. The road is drying. You said you would leave when the road was passable."
Zhao Hu stiffened slightly. He looked out at the dark mountains, then at the eight animals, and finally at Lin Chen and Lin Mu. He shifted his weight.
"I... need to check the perimeter," Zhao Hu grunted, turning away quickly. "There might be wolves scenting the blood from the hoof trimming. I'll take the first watch. You two sleep inside the hut tonight. It's warmer."
Lin Chen smiled as the burly man walked away, sharpening his knife again.
"You can leave tomorrow, Zhao Hu!" Lin Chen called out after him.
"Tch. If the wolves don't eat me first," came the gruff reply from the darkness.
Lin Chen knew Zhao Hu wouldn't leave tomorrow. He had found a purpose, even if he wouldn't admit it.
Lin Chen looked up at the night sky. The clouds had cleared, revealing a canopy of brilliant stars. He pulled up his status screen.
**[Mission Update: Treat the sick flock. (Complete).]**
**[Reward: Intermediate Herbal Medicine Knowledge (Animal Focus).]**
**[Ranch Reputation: Level 0 (Obscure) -> Level 1 (Laughingstock of Qingniu Village).]**
"Laughingstock," Lin Chen chuckled softly. "Let them laugh. When spring comes, they will see."
He patted the donkey on the rump. "Come on, partner. Tomorrow, we move rocks. We're building a wall. A wall that no vulture can cross."
He walked back to the hut, where Lin Mu was already asleep, snoring softly. Lin Chen lay down on his wooden bed, his body aching, his hands stinging, but his mind clear.
The foundation was laid. The animals were alive. The team was forming. Now, they just had to survive the winter.