The rain arrived with the dawn.
It wasn't a gentle spring drizzle, but a steady, chilling downpour that turned the hillside into a slick mess of mud and sliding stones. The sound of rain hammering against the patched roof of the ruined hut was deafening, a constant drumbeat that reminded Lin Chen of the precariousness of his new life.
Lin Chen woke to the smell of damp earth and the sharp tang of medicinal herbs. His entire body ached—a deep, throbbing soreness that permeated his muscles and bones. His hands, wrapped in strips of clean cloth, throbbed with every heartbeat. This body was too weak, too soft. In his previous life, he would have taken a painkiller and slept in. Here, there was no such luxury.
He sat up slowly. The small room was dim. Opposite him, Lin Mu was still asleep, curled up under a thick quilt, his breath coming in soft puffs. A few feet away, Zhao Hu sat against the wall, sharpening a short knife with a rhythmic *scritch-scratch* sound. He looked dry; he had spent an hour last night reinforcing the roof tiles with mud and straw, a skill Lin Chen hadn't expected from a soldier.
"You're awake," Zhao Hu said without looking up. His voice was rough from sleep but steady. "The goats are miserable. Huddled together like old women at a funeral."
Lin Chen stood up, stretching his stiff limbs. "Miserable is fine, as long as they are alive. I need to check their hooves."
Zhao Hu paused his sharpening. He looked at Lin Chen's bandaged hands. "You can barely hold a bowl of rice, and you want to check hooves? In this mud?"
"The mud softens the hooves," Lin Chen explained, walking to the door and grabbing a bamboo rain hat. "It's the best time to trim them. If they get rot, we lose our investment. The system... the book I read said so." He caught himself; he couldn't say 'system'.
Zhao Hu sheathed his knife and stood up with a sigh. He grabbed a large palm-leaf cape. "Fine. I'll hold them. You cut. But if you slip and cut the goat's leg, I'm eating mutton tonight."
They stepped out into the gray deluge. The pen was a swamp. The three goats stood on a slightly elevated rock, looking pathetic. Their coats were soaked, and they shivered violently.
Lin Chen climbed into the pen, sinking ankle-deep into the mud. He approached the billy goat. "Easy there," he murmured.
The goat, already irritated by the rain and the cold, lowered its head and snorted, eyeing Lin Chen with suspicion.
"Grab his horns," Lin Chen instructed. "Don't break his neck, just hold him still."
Zhao Hu moved with surprising speed for a big man. In a second, he had the goat's head locked under one arm, his hands gripping the horns. "Hurry up. He's strong."
Lin Chen knelt in the mud, ignoring the cold water soaking into his trousers. He lifted the goat's front right hoof. It was overgrown and packed with mud and manure. Using a small, sharp curved knife he had bought in the village, he began to scrape away the debris.
The goat kicked. Mud splattered across Lin Chen's face.
"Hold him!" Lin Chen grunted, his grip tightening on the hoof.
"I am holding him! He's a wild one!" Zhao Hu growled back, adjusting his grip.
Working with injured hands was agony. Every jarring motion sent a spike of pain through Lin Chen's blisters. But he focused, channeling the knowledge from the system. *Trim the outer wall, balance the heel, check for abscesses.*
"Your hands," Zhao Hu noted, seeing the red seeping through the cloth wrappings. "You're bleeding."
"It's just skin," Lin Chen said, not stopping. "If the animal can't walk, it can't eat. If it can't eat, it dies. My hands can heal. A dead goat doesn't come back."
He finished the first hoof and moved to the next. The rain poured harder, blurring his vision, but he worked by touch.
By the time they finished the third goat, Lin Chen was shivering uncontrollably. He looked like a mud creature, his robes ruined.
"That's enough," Zhao Hu said, dragging the last goat back to the sheltered spot. "You're going to get sick. And I don't know how to make medicine."
Lin Chen nodded, his teeth chattering. He had inspected the animals. They were thin, but the deworming with pumpkin seeds seemed to be working; the parasites would pass in a day or two. Now, they needed better food.
"We need hay," Lin Chen said as they stumbled back into the hut. "The wet grass will give them diarrhea. We need to dry fodder."
"We have no fodder," Lin Mu said, waking up and looking at his brother with wide, worried eyes. "Brother, you're freezing! Change your clothes."
"I know we don't have fodder," Lin Chen said, stripping off the wet outer robe. He grabbed a dry shirt from the trunk. "That's why we are going to the market in town today."
"In this weather?" Zhao Hu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"In this weather, merchants are desperate to move stock," Lin Chen said, his business mind kicking in. "They won't want to feed their animals another day in the rain on the road. Prices might drop. I have money left. I need to buy dry grass, and... I need to buy a donkey."
"A donkey?" Lin Mu and Zhao Hu asked in unison.
"We can't carry feed and supplies on our backs," Lin Chen said. "We need transport. A horse is too expensive. A donkey is cheap."
***
The journey to the nearest small market town—Qinghe Town—was treacherous. The mountain path had turned into a river of sludge. It took them two hours to walk what usually took one.
Zhao Hu walked ahead, his spear used as a walking stick to test the depth of the mud. Lin Mu walked in the middle, carrying a small basket covered in oilcloth. Lin Chen brought up the rear, his eyes scanning the terrain.
*System, analyze terrain.*
**[Terrain Analysis: Mountain Path. High risk of landslides. Soil composition: Heavy clay.]**
**[Suggestion: Construct drainage ditches on the uphill side when weather clears.]**
"Note that down," Lin Chen muttered to himself. Everything needed work. The path, the land, the house.
When they arrived at Qinghe Town, the market was sparse. The usual bustle was dampened by the rain. Merchants huddled under awnings, looking miserable. Farmers stood by their carts, covered in straw capes, hoping to sell their vegetables quickly and return home.
Lin Chen ignored the vegetable stalls and headed straight for the livestock area. The smell of wet animal fur and manure was overpowering.
He saw a group of sheep huddled under a leaking shed. They looked bedraggled. A farmer sat nearby, smoking a long pipe, his face etched with worry.
"Sheep for sale?" Lin Chen asked, approaching.
The farmer looked up. "Five sheep. Two ewes, three wethers. Healthy. Just wet."
Lin Chen didn't touch them yet. He activated the system.
**[Analysis: Local Sheep.]
[Status: Mild respiratory infection (early stage). Malnourished.]
[Value: Low. Treatment required: Dry shelter, antibiotics (unavailable), herbal steam inhalation.]**
"Open their mouths," Lin Chen said to the farmer.
"What?"
"I want to see their teeth. And their lungs."
The farmer grumbled but complied. Lin Chen leaned in, listening to the breathing. A slight wheeze. He checked the gums—pale.
"They are sick," Lin Chen stated flatly. "Their lungs are rattling. In this rain, two will die before the week is out."
The farmer stood up angrily. "Nonsense! These are my best sheep! You city folk know nothing! Get lost!"
"Wait," a voice called out from the shadows of the next stall.
A short, rotund man with a greasy apron stepped out. He was a butcher. "The scholar is right, Old Li. I heard them coughing this morning. I wouldn't buy them for stew meat in this condition."
Old Li's face fell. He slumped back down. "My family needs rice... I can't take them back up the mountain."
Lin Chen felt a pang of sympathy, but he crushed it. This was business. Survival. "I will give you one tael of silver for all five," Lin Chen said.
"One tael?" Old Li shouted. "They are worth four!"
"They are worth four if they were healthy and dry," Lin Chen corrected. "Right now, they are liabilities. I have dry shelter and medicine. I will take the risk. One tael, or you watch them die."
Old Li looked at the rain, then at his starving sheep. Tears mixed with the rain on his face. "Fine. Take them. Just... take them."
Lin Chen handed over the silver. He turned to Zhao Hu. "Tie them together. We have a herd."
"You are crazy," Zhao Hu muttered, taking the rope. "Buying sick sheep."
"I am a rancher," Lin Chen corrected. "Sickness is just a problem to be solved."
He then moved to the back of the market. There, tied to a post, stood a grey donkey. It was old, its ribs showing, and it had a nasty look in its eyes. A merchant was trying to sell it to a farmer who was shaking his head.
"It's too old!" the farmer complained. "It can't pull a full cart!"
"It eats nothing! Very cheap to keep!" the merchant countered.
Lin Chen walked over. He looked at the donkey. The donkey tried to bite him. Lin Chen dodged instantly—he had expected it.
**[Analysis: Donkey (Mule-type build).]
[Age: 12 years.]
[Status: Malnourished, Arthritis in hind legs.]
[Hidden Trait: Strong endurance. Once rehabilitated, can carry heavy loads on mountain terrain.]**
"I'll buy it," Lin Chen said. "Fifty copper coins."
The merchant stared at him. "Fifty coins? You insult me!"
"It will die on you in a month if you don't sell it today," Lin Chen said calmly. "Look at its legs. It needs rest and proper feed. I have a farm. Fifty coins, and I take the saddle and the two sacks of feed you have there."
The merchant hesitated, looking at the worsening storm. "Fine! Take the beast! It bites, by the way."
"I noticed," Lin Chen said, handing over the coins.
He loaded the donkey with the two sacks of cheap feed the merchant threw in. It was barely enough, but it was a start.
As they prepared to leave the town, leading a string of coughing sheep and a limping donkey, Zhao Hu walked beside Lin Chen.
"You spent nearly all your money," Zhao Hu said, his voice low. "On garbage. Sick sheep and a broken donkey. If they die, you are bankrupt."
"They won't die," Lin Chen said, adjusting his hat against the wind. "The sheep need ginger and garlic steam to clear their lungs. The donkey needs rest and bran mash. I know what I'm doing, Zhao Hu."
"You are a gambler," Zhao Hu said, shaking his head.
"I am an investor," Lin Chen replied. "I bought potential. Cheap potential."
They walked back up the mountain. The road was harder going up than down. At one steep section, the donkey slipped, its legs sreading out on the mud.
"Whoa!" Lin Chen grabbed the reins. The donkey panicked, eyes rolling white. It tried to kick.
"Easy!" Lin Chen didn't pull hard. Instead, he stepped to the side, bracing his shoulder against the donkey's flank, pushing it upright. He spoke in a low, rhythmic hum, a technique the system suggested—calming vibrations.
The donkey stilled. It looked at Lin Chen, breathing hard.
"See?" Lin Chen whispered, patting its neck. "I'm not going to let you fall. We are partners now."
The donkey snorted, but it didn't try to bite him again. It righted itself and continued walking.
Zhao Hu watched the interaction silently. He didn't say anything, but the disdain in his eyes had shifted to curiosity.
When they finally reached the hut, night had fallen. The fire inside was dying. Lin Mu rushed out to help them pen the new animals.
"Brother! So many!" Lin Mu cried, then coughed. The cold was getting to the boy too.
"Bring them in," Lin Chen ordered. "We can't leave them in the pen tonight. They are too weak. We clear the corner of the hut. They sleep inside with us tonight."
"Inside?" Zhao Hu asked. "The smell?"
"Warmth saves lives," Lin Chen said. "Tonight, we are all livestock, huddling for warmth. Tomorrow, we build a proper shelter."
They worked through the night. Lin Chen set up a pot of boiling water over the fire. He threw in crushed ginger and garlic cloves. He had the sheep inhale the steam, covering their heads with a cloth to trap the vapors.
The hut was crowded, hot, and smelled strongly of wet wool, manure, and garlic. It was a far cry from the magistrate's manor. It was a peasant's life.
But as Lin Chen sat by the fire, watching the sheep's breathing slowly steady, and seeing the donkey munching on a handful of premium hay he had reserved for it, he felt a sense of peace.
**[Mission Update: Acquire 10 head of livestock. (8/10 Complete).]**
**[New Mission: Treat the sick flock. 0/3 treated.]**
He looked at his hands. The blisters had burst, and the raw skin stung. But he didn't care.
"Zhao Hu," Lin Chen said suddenly.
The soldier looked up from his spot by the wall, where he was drying his boots.
"You said you would stay for a few days. The roof is fixed," Lin Chen said. "But I need to build a barn. And I need to clear the land. I can offer you... three copper coins a day. And food. And a place by the fire."
Zhao Hu looked at the rain battering the door, then at the sick animals, and finally at Lin Chen's determined face.
"Three coins," Zhao Hu scoffed. "I make five guarding a caravan."
"Caravans move," Lin Chen countered. "This is a home. And I have a feeling... the meat these animals will produce will be worth more than any caravan cargo. You can leave whenever you want. But if you stay... you might see something no one in this empire has ever seen."
Zhao Hu was silent for a long moment. He kicked a loose stone on the floor.
"I'll stay until the rain stops," he grunted. "But only because I don't want to walk down that mudslide you call a road."
Lin Chen smiled. He knew Zhao Hu wouldn't leave. Not yet.
"Good. Then tomorrow, we start chopping wood for the barn."
Lin Chen leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. The sound of the rain was no longer a threat; it was a rhythm. A lullaby for the rebirth of a dream.