The first heavy snow of winter arrived not with a whisper, but with a grinding howl.
It fell for three days straight, blanketing Willow Village in a shroud of white so thick it buried the stone walls and turned the familiar paths into dangerous trenches. The temperature plummeted, freezing the spit before it hit the ground. Birds fell from the trees, their wings iced over.
For the Chen family, the snow wasn't just scenery; it was a siege.
Chen Yuan stood by the window of the main house, scraping a hole in the frost that covered the inside of the paper pane. Outside, the world was a blur of white.
"The road to the city is gone," he said, his voice tight. "Even if the bull can pull the cart, the wheels will freeze."
Chen Dazhong sat by the stove, wrapping his feet in cloth. "The Steward expects the delivery tomorrow. If we are late..."
"The contract says 'first of the month'," Chen Yuan said. "We can't control the weather. But we can try."
He turned to look at the living room. It had been transformed into a fortress of industry. The *kang* was covered in wool. Liu Shi, Wang Shi, and the sisters were working in shifts, needles clicking like insect wings. The sock order had doubled to one hundred pairs, and the deadline was approaching.
"Mother, how is the supply?"
"The wool is holding," Liu Shi said, not looking up from her knitting. "But the lamp oil is low. And the charcoal... we have enough for five days, maybe six."
Chen Yuan nodded. He made a mental note. *Charcoal and oil. Essentials.*
He walked to the door, pulling on his heavy padded coat—a new one, made by Wang Shi from the fabric she had bought with the ranch money. It was stuffed with cotton and lined with old sheepskin. It wasn't fashionable, but it was warm.
"I'm going to the hill," he announced.
"Be careful," Liu Shi called out. "The wind cuts like a knife."
* * *
The walk up the East Hill was a battle against the elements.
The snow was knee-deep in places. Chen Yuan used a bamboo pole to probe the path, checking for hidden rocks or ditches.
When he reached the clearing, he was relieved to see the shed still standing. The roof sagged slightly under the weight of the snow, but the support beams held.
He hurried inside.
The air inside the shed was warmer than outside, thanks to the body heat of the animals and the deep bedding of straw.
"Boss!" Little Stone's voice came from the back. The boy looked like a snowman, his eyebrows white with frost. He was struggling to carry a bucket of water.
"Put it down," Chen Yuan said, rushing to help. "How are they?"
"Good. The troughs are frozen, so we have to break the ice every hour."
Chen Yuan walked down the line of stalls.
Hei Tan, the Black Bull, stood like a statue, his thick coat dusted with frost. He snorted as Chen Yuan approached, his breath forming a white cloud.
"Easy, big guy," Chen Yuan patted his neck. The bull's skin was cold to the touch, but the flesh underneath was warm.
He moved to Hope's stall.
The Brahman cow was lying down, chewing her cud. Her loose skin and the layer of fat she had gained from the Ryegrass and bean cakes insulated her well. She looked up at Chen Yuan with calm, intelligent eyes.
*System.*
**[Subject: Hope.]**
**[Status: Healthy. Body temperature: Normal.]**
**[Note: The hump is serving as a fat reserve. Metabolism is efficient.]**
But Chen Yuan noticed something else. Hope was breathing rhythmically, and her udder looked slightly swollen.
*System, deeper scan.*
**[Reproductive Status: Fertilization Confirmed.]**
**[Gestation: Early Stage (2 weeks).]**
Chen Yuan froze. *Fertilized?*
He looked at Hei Tan in the next stall. The bull had been with Hope in the pasture for weeks before the snows came. It had happened.
*She's pregnant.*
A wave of relief washed over him, followed by a surge of anxiety. A pregnant cow needed even better nutrition. Calcium, phosphorus. If she failed now, he lost the calf.
"Little Stone," Chen Yuan called out. "From today on, Hope gets an extra scoop of bean cake. And mix some crushed eggshells into her feed."
"Eggshells?"
"For the bones," Chen Yuan said. "Just do it."
He walked back to the bull. "You did your job, Hei Tan. Now we need to get the cart to the city."
* * *
Clearing the road was a community effort.
Chen Yuan hired five villagers, offering them copper coins and a promise of hot porridge. They worked for four hours, shoveling the snow from the winding path down to the main road, creating a track wide enough for the cart.
By afternoon, the cart was loaded. Fifty bags of 'Spirit Soil' were stacked high, covered in two layers of oilcloth to protect them from the moisture.
But the donkey was too weak for the heavy load in the snow.
"We use the bull," Chen Yuan decided.
He hitched Hei Tan to the cart. The bull tossed his head, annoyed by the unfamiliar harness.
"Boss, is he safe?" one of the villagers asked, stepping back.
"He's the only one strong enough," Chen Yuan said. He grabbed the lead rope. "Xu Tie, you walk beside him. I'll drive."
They started down the hill.
The snow was slick. The cart slid sideways at the first turn.
"Brake!" Chen Yuan shouted, leaning back.
Xu Tie jammed a wooden wedge behind the wheel, stopping the slide. Hei Tan lowed, his hooves digging into the frozen mud.
"Steady," Chen Yuan pulled the rope. "Pull!"
Hei Tan leaned into the yoke. The muscles in his shoulders bunched. With a groan of wood and a creak of ice, the cart moved.
They reached the main road. It was desolate. No other travelers.
"Walk," Chen Yuan commanded. "Don't run."
The journey to the Prefecture City took three hours—twice the normal time. The cold gnawed at their fingers and toes. Chen Yuan couldn't feel his nose.
When the city gates finally loomed ahead, the guards were huddled in their cloaks, looking miserable.
"Stop!" a guard shouted. "State your business!"
"Delivery for the City Lord's Manor!" Chen Yuan yelled back, his voice hoarse.
The guard looked at the cart, then at the massive black bull pulling it.
"By the heavens... what is that beast?"
"A bull," Chen Yuan said. "Open the gate. We are freezing."
The gates creaked open.
* * *
The City Lord's Manor was warm, a stark contrast to the freezing streets.
Steward Zhou met them in the courtyard, wrapped in a fox-fur robe. He looked at the bags of soil, then pointedly at the sky.
"You are late," Steward Zhou said coldly. "The sun is already setting."
"The road was blocked by snow, Steward," Chen Yuan said, keeping his head bowed but his voice firm. "We shoveled it by hand to get here. The soil is dry and ready."
Steward Zhou sniffed. He walked over to a bag and opened it. He stuck his hand in.
It was cold, but the texture was right.
"Acceptable," Steward Zhou sighed. "But late is late. I cannot pay the full price. Market fluctuations due to the snow... costs have risen."
Chen Yuan looked up. "Steward, we have a contract. Forty coins per bag."
"Contracts are for fair weather," Steward Zhou waved his hand. "I will pay thirty-five. Take it or take the dirt back."
Chen Yuan felt a spark of anger. It wasn't about the money—it was about the principle. But he couldn't afford to take the dirt back. He needed the capital for the winter.
"Thirty-eight," Chen Yuan bargained. "The transport cost us extra labor. I can't feed my bull on charity."
Steward Zhou looked at the bull, then at Chen Yuan's frozen face. He saw the stubbornness there.
"Fine. Thirty-seven. And not a coin more."
"Deal."
Chen Yuan swallowed his pride. It was a loss of three coins per bag. 150 coins total. It stung, but it was better than nothing.
The porters unloaded the cart. As they worked, Steward Zhou lingered.
"The Lady is hosting a Winter Banquet next week," Steward Zhou mentioned casually. "She wants fresh flowers. Forced blooms. Your soil... it is good for that."
"I can provide more," Chen Yuan said. "But the price must stand at forty in the spring."
"We will see," Steward Zhou turned to leave. "Go home, boy. Before you freeze to death on my doorstep."
* * *
The ride back was faster, but colder.
The wind had picked up, driving the snow horizontally. The oilcloth on the empty cart snapped violently.
Xu Tie walked beside the bull, his head down.
"He cheated us," Xu Tie growled.
"He tested us," Chen Yuan corrected, shivering violently. "He wanted to see if we would fold. We didn't. We still made a profit."
He looked at the pouch of silver coins tucked inside his coat. It wasn't as heavy as he wanted, but it was there.
"Brother Xu," Chen Yuan said. "When we get back... we need to fix the roof. I don't trust those beams in this wind."
"Aye."
They reached the village in the dead of night. The lights in the houses were out. Only the Chen household had a dim glow.
They stabled Hei Tan, gave him extra hay, and trudged into the house.
The warmth hit them like a wall.
"You're back!" Liu Shi rushed over, taking their coats. "Hot soup is on the stove."
"How much?" Wang Shi asked, appearing from the shadows.
Chen Yuan placed the pouch on the table. "Thirty-seven coins per bag."
Wang Shi's eyes narrowed. "The contract was forty."
"Steward argued snow tax," Chen Yuan said wearily. "I compromised. It's enough."
He looked at the pile of socks on the *kang*. "How many?"
"Sixty pairs," Chen Mei said, rubbing her red eyes. "We will finish the rest by tomorrow night."
"Good," Chen Yuan nodded. He sat down by the fire, stretching his frozen feet towards the hearth. "We deliver the socks the day after tomorrow. Then we rest."
He looked around the room. His family was tired, thin, and pale, but they were together. They were warm. They had food.
"What about the cow?" Chen Dazhong asked, refilling his pipe.
"She's pregnant," Chen Yuan announced.
The room went silent.
Then, a slow smile spread across Chen Dazhong's face. "Pregnant? Hope?"
"Yes."
"The calf..." Chen Hu whispered. "It will be born in spring?"
"Yes. A Brahman cross."
"Then the bull was worth it," Chen Dazhong nodded, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Every coin."
Chen Yuan looked at the fire. The flames danced, reflecting in his eyes.
The winter was long. The Steward was greedy. The cold was deadly.
But the herd was growing. The family was united.
"We have survived the first freeze," Chen Yuan said. "Now, we prepare for the spring."
He stood up. "I'm going to check the animals one last time. Then I'll sleep."
He walked back out into the cold, but this time, he didn't shiver. He felt a fire burning inside him—a fire that the snow could never extinguish.
The ranch was alive. And so was he.