The thaw had turned the world into a brown, slurry mess.
The beautiful white snow that had blanketed Willow Village was gone, replaced by a landscape of churning mud and exposed, rotting vegetation. The roads were nearly impassable, and the air smelled of damp earth and decaying leaves.
For Chen Yuan, the arrival of spring wasn't just a change of season; it was a starting gun.
He sat in the main room of the house, the letter from the Prefecture School open on the table. A small, neat list of requirements was written on the bottom of the page.
*"Examination Fee: 500 Copper Coins."*
*"Materials: 'The Great Learning', 'The Analects' (Official Commentary Edition), Brush, Ink, Paper."*
*"Attire: Clean scholar's robe (Blue or White)."*
Five hundred coins for the exam alone. The books would cost another tael. The robe... that was another story.
"The examination is on the 15th of the Third Month," Chen Yuan said, tapping the paper. "We have one month."
Little Ming sat opposite him, looking pale. "Third Brother... the exam fee is so high. Maybe I should wait until next year?"
"No," Chen Yuan said firmly. "Opportunity doesn't wait. The Lady of the City Lord recommended you. If you wait, the connection goes cold. We do this now."
He looked at his father. Chen Dazhong was smoking his pipe, his brow furrowed.
"The money we have... it's enough for the fee," Chen Dazhong said slowly. "But the books... and the tutor. You said he needs a tutor to pass the Prefecture exam. The village teacher isn't enough for this level."
"The village teacher taught him the basics," Chen Yuan agreed. "But the Prefecture exam tests interpretation and poetry. He needs someone who has passed the provincial level, or at least attempted it. He needs a real scholar."
"Real scholars cost silver," Wang Shi chimed in from the kitchen, her voice sharp but lacking its usual malice. She was counting copper coins at the counter. "We have the bacon money coming, but that's for the spring planting seeds and the new barn roof. If we spend it all on books..."
"We spend it on books," Chen Yuan cut her off. "Sister-in-law, calculate the liquid assets. Everything we can spare."
Wang Shi grumbled but pulled out the heavy iron key for the money chest. She counted silently, her lips moving.
"From the bacon sale to the Immortal Pavilion... and the remaining soil money... we have three taels and two hundred coins."
Three taels. It was a fortune to a peasant, but a pittance to a scholar.
"It's enough," Chen Yuan stood up. "I'm going to the city. I need to find a tutor and buy the books. Second Brother, prepare the cart. Use the bull. The roads are too bad for the donkey."
* * *
The journey to the Prefecture City was a grueling test of endurance.
The cart wheels sank into the mud up to the axles. Hei Tan, the black bull, pulled with his head low, his muscles straining against the suction of the earth. Chen Hu walked beside the wheels, shoving wood blocks under them to gain traction every time they got stuck.
"Damn mud," Chen Hu cursed, wiping sludge from his face. "It's like the earth is trying to eat us."
"It's spring," Chen Yuan said, holding the reins tight. "The earth is waking up hungry."
It took them four hours to reach the city gates. By the time they arrived, the sun was high, and Chen Yuan's back ached from the constant jolting.
He left Chen Hu to watch the cart and the bull (giving him strict instructions not to let Hei Tan gore anyone) and headed straight for the bookstore district.
The "Great Wisdom Bookstore" was a quiet, dusty place filled with the smell of ink and old paper.
"I need the official examination curriculum," Chen Yuan told the clerk. "The Great Learning, The Analects... and a book of past examination essays."
The clerk pulled the books from the shelves. They were thin pamphlets bound in blue paper, but the price was shocking.
"One tael and two hundred coins," the clerk said.
Chen Yuan winced. Paper was expensive in this era. He paid the money, feeling the purse lighten significantly.
Now for the harder part. The tutor.
He left the bookstore and walked towards the "Scholars' Lane"—a street where failed scholars and retired officials often lived, scraping by on calligraphy or tutoring.
He stopped in front of a small, dilapidated gate. A piece of paper was pasted on the door: *Tutoring for Hire. Reasonable Rates.*
Chen Yuan knocked.
The door creaked open. A middle-aged man with a thin, scholarly beard and a robe that had been washed so many times it was almost white stood there. He looked frail, his fingers stained with ink.
"I am looking for a tutor," Chen Yuan bowed. "For my brother. He is taking the Prefecture School entrance exam."
The scholar looked at Chen Yuan's clothes—sturdy, practical, smelling of livestock. "My rate is fifty copper coins per session. Does your brother have a foundation?"
"He has studied the Thousand Character Classic and the Analects with the village teacher," Chen Yuan said. "He has talent. But he needs guidance on the 'Eight-Legged Essay' structure."
The scholar hesitated. He needed the money, but he also knew the odds. "The Prefecture School is competitive. Most boys study for years. One month is... difficult."
"He is determined," Chen Yuan said. "And I am willing to pay for intensive study. Two sessions a day. I will pay for the month in advance. Three taels of silver."
Three taels. It was a low price for a whole month of intensive work, but high enough to catch the scholar's eye.
"Three taels..." The scholar's Adam's apple bobbed. He looked at Chen Yuan. "You are a merchant?"
"A rancher," Chen Yuan corrected. "But I understand value. I am not paying for you to teach him everything. I am paying for you to teach him how to pass. Just pass."
The scholar straightened his back. He seemed to find a shred of dignity in the blunt assessment. "I am Qian Zhong. I passed the county exam at fifteen. I know the tricks of the examiners. If your brother has the brain, I will sharpen it."
"Deal." Chen Yuan pulled out the silver. "Pack your things, Master Qian. You are coming to Willow Village. My house is simple, but the food is good. We have bacon."
"Bacon?" Master Qian's eyes lit up slightly. "I... I haven't tasted meat in a month."
"Then you will eat well."
* * *
The return trip was slower, laden with the scholar, the books, and the heavy burden of expectation.
Master Qian sat in the cart, clutching his small bundle of clothes, looking around at the desolate fields with a hint of despair. "It is very... rural."
"The air is clean," Chen Yuan said. "And it's quiet. Good for studying."
When they arrived at the Chen house, the family was waiting.
"This is Master Qian," Chen Yuan announced. "He will be staying with us for a month to prepare Ming."
Liu Shi immediately bustled about. "Welcome, Master! Please, come in. The room is ready."
Wang Shi brought out hot water and towels. She looked at the scholar's thin frame and whispered to Chen Yuan, "He looks like a stiff wind would blow him over. Can he really teach?"
"He has the degree," Chen Yuan whispered back. "And he's hungry. Hungry men work hard."
Little Ming came out, bowing low. "Greetings, Master."
Master Qian looked at the boy. He saw the nervousness, but also the brightness in his eyes. "Show me your hand."
Ming held out his hand. It was rough from farm work.
"Rough hands," Qian sighed. "But the eyes are clear. Go get your brush. We start now. No time for dinner."
The household shifted into a new gear of intensity.
While the family worked in the fields and the shed, the sound of recitation drifted from the small side room.
*"The way of great learning consists in manifesting bright virtue..."*
*"Again! Your tone is flat! You sound like a cow mooing! Again!"*
The pressure on Little Ming was immense. He studied until the oil lamp flickered out, then woke up before dawn to practice calligraphy.
* * *
Meanwhile, on the East Hill, the ranch was battling the mud.
The thaw had turned the low-lying areas of the pasture into a bog.
Chen Yuan stood in his rubber boots (a luxury he had bought from a traveling merchant), watching the sheep. They were sinking up to their ankles in the mud near the water trough.
"We need to elevate the trough," Chen Yuan said to Xu Tie. "And we need to lay down stone paths. If the sheep get hoof rot now, they won't recover in time for shearing."
"The stone pit is flooded," Xu Tie reported. "We can't quarry."
"Use the wood," Chen Yuan decided. "Logs. Split them in half and lay them flat like a bridge. Corduroy road."
"That will rot in a year."
"Then we replace it in a year. We survive today so we can worry about next year later."
They spent the next three days hauling logs from the forest. Cousin Bao, surprisingly, was the strongest carrier. He trudged through the mud with logs on his shoulder, his face set in a grimace.
"This is miserable," Bao grunted, dropping a log with a splash. "Why can't we just let them walk in the mud?"
"Because they are assets," Chen Yuan said, nailing the log into place. "And assets that are sick cost money. Assets that are healthy make money."
He looked at Bao. The cousin had been working hard lately. No gambling, no complaining. The winter and the steady meals had filled him out.
"Bao," Chen Yuan said. "After the mud is fixed, I have a job for you in the city."
Bao perked up. "City? Not carrying night soil?"
"No. I need someone to watch the market. The pork belly prices. I heard the Lin family is raising them again. I need to know by how much. Go to the teahouses, listen to the rumors. I'll pay for your meals."
"Spy work?" Bao grinned, showing a gap in his teeth. "I'm good at listening."
"It's market research," Chen Yuan corrected. "Go."
* * *
A week later, Bao returned with news that soured Chen Yuan's mood.
"The Lin family has locked down the wholesale market," Bao reported, slurping his tea. "They are buying all the pigs from the surrounding villages before they even reach the slaughterhouse. They are selling pork belly to the restaurants for fifty coins a catty."
"Fifty?" Chen Yuan slammed his hand on the table. "They sell it to me for forty!"
"That's the point," Bao said. "They are squeezing the small guys. If you want to buy pork belly to make your bacon, you have to go through them. And they know you are selling to the Immortal Pavilion."
Chen Yuan paced the room. This was the danger of a monopoly. The Lin family realized that the restaurant was buying processed meat, effectively bypassing their fresh meat supply. They were striking back by cutting off the raw material.
"They want to force me to buy from them at their price," Chen Yuan realized. "Or they want to force me to sell them my bacon recipe."
"What do we do?" Wang Shi asked. "We have a contract with Chef Zhang."
"We fulfill the contract," Chen Yuan said, his eyes hard. "But we don't buy from the Lin family."
"Then where do we get the meat?"
Chen Yuan looked at the map on the wall.
"North," he said. "The mountain villages. The Lin family's influence is strong in the lowlands, but the mountains are poor. The roads are bad. They don't bother sending buyers there because transport is too hard."
"But the roads are terrible," Chen Hu said. "We can't get a cart through."
"We don't use a cart," Chen Yuan said, looking at Hei Tan. "We use sleds. The snow is gone in the valley, but in the high mountain passes, there is still drifts. And mud... the bull can handle mud."
He turned to Xu Tie. "Brother Xu. We are going on a trip. A supply run."
"It's dangerous," Xu Tie said. "Mountain bandits."
"Bandits don't attack a bull that looks like Hei Tan," Chen Yuan smiled grimly. "And they don't attack a man with a spear. We leave tomorrow."
* * *
The next morning, while Little Ming was being drilled by Master Qian on the finer points of the 'Eight-Legged Essay', Chen Yuan and Xu Tie set off.
They traveled north, away from the fertile valley, into the rugged foothills of the Great Qing Mountains.
The terrain changed drastically. The road became a rocky path, winding through dense pine forests. The air was colder here.
After a day of hard travel, they reached a small, isolated village nestled in a valley. It was a poor place. The houses were made of stone and thatch. The villagers looked thin.
Chen Yuan stopped a village elder.
"Elder, do you have pigs? I want to buy meat."
The elder looked at the massive bull and the armed guard. "We have pigs. But the traders don't come here. The path is too steep."
"I will come," Chen Yuan said. "I will buy your pigs. Live or dressed. I will pay market price. Twenty coins a catty. Cash."
"Twenty coins?" The elder's eyes widened. The Lin family agents usually offered ten or twelve, citing 'transport difficulties'.
"I pay twenty. But I need you to help me load them. I have sleds."
It was a hustle. They spent the afternoon purchasing three whole pigs that had been slaughtered and frozen in the snow storehouses of the villagers. The villagers were overjoyed to get cash.
Loading three whole pigs onto the sleds was a nightmare. Hei Tan groaned as the weight increased.
"Pull, Hei Tan," Chen Yuan whispered, feeding the bull a handful of the special Ryegrass. "This is for the ranch."
The bull lowered his head and pulled. The sled groaned, then slid forward.
They traveled back through the night.
It was a grueling journey. The path was steep and slick. At one point, the sled nearly tipped over a ravine. Xu Tie used his spear as a lever to hold it while Chen Yuan dug his heels into the mud to push.
"Push!" Chen Yuan gritted, his muscles screaming. "Don't let it drop!"
"Steady!" Xu Tie barked.
They righted the sled. They pushed on.
By the time they returned to the East Hill, Chen Yuan was covered in mud from head to toe, his hands raw and bleeding. But on the sleds lay three massive, frozen pigs.
"Boss!" Little Stone ran out. "You're back!"
"Get the knives ready," Chen Yuan said, sliding off the bull. "We have work to do."
He walked into the house, limping. The sun was rising.
He passed the study room. Little Ming was asleep at the desk, his head resting on an open book. Master Qian was also asleep in the corner, a half-empty cup of tea beside him.
Chen Yuan walked over and covered Ming with a blanket.
"Sleep well, brother," he whispered. "I'll handle the money. You handle the books."
He went back outside.
"Start the smoker," Chen Yuan ordered Wang Shi. "We have bacon to make."
The Lin family wanted a war? They would get one. Chen Yuan wasn't just a rancher anymore. He was a logistics master. And he would find a way to feed his family and his dreams, no matter how much mud he had to wade through.