The third egg, the one from the spotted hen, was deemed too precious to eat. Its thin, soft shell spoke of her still-recovering system, but it was a symbol. Lin Yan placed it carefully in a small basket lined with straw, a promise of future broods. The other two eggs, however, were transformed into a steaming, fragrant egg-and-wild-green soup that evening, thickening the gruel into something that almost resembled a meal. The mood in the hut was lighter, the silence less desperate, filled instead with the practical sounds of spoons scraping bowls and the soft, satisfied sighs of stomachs that were not entirely empty.
Hope, Lin Yan was learning, was a more potent nutrient than millet.
The next morning, the family's new routine began. Lin Dahu and Lin Tie still left at dawn for the creek, but their steps seemed less burdened. Lin Zhu did not go to Old Chen's. Instead, he stood with Lin Yan and Lin Xiao in the grey morning light, looking at the pathetic lean-to.
"Father says we help you," Lin Zhu said, his clever hands already testing the strength of a wall plank. It wobbled dangerously. "This thing wouldn't stop a determined fox, let alone a cold rain. What do you need?"
Lin Yan had spent the night planning. He had 17 system points. The "Coop Blueprint: Basic Weatherproof Design" cost 30. He needed 13 more, and he needed to gather materials.
"We need to make it strong," Lin Yan said. "Walls that fit. A proper roof. A raised floor to keep them dry, with a way to clean it. And a secure door."
Lin Zhu whistled softly. "That's not a chicken coop. That's a palace for birds. We need wood. Good, straight wood. And more thatch. And time."
"We have the wood," Lin Yan said, pointing to the forested hillside behind their plot. "The county permits villagers to take deadfall for personal use. We just need to haul it."
"And the thatch?"
"The marsh reeds by the south bend of the creek. They're thick and dry."
Lin Zhu looked at his younger brother, reassessing. This wasn't the frail boy talking about herbs anymore. This was someone with a clear vision. "Alright. But deadfall is heavy. We'll need A-Tie's shoulders later."
For now, they started with what they had. Lin Yan and Lin Xiao returned to their insect-hunting with a new fervor, their focus on the damp, rotten logs that also hid the best grubs. Every time they overturned a log swarming with life, Lin Yan felt a small surge of satisfaction. The system recognized it as "Ecosystem Management for Forage" and awarded a point or two. Slowly, his point total crept upward: 18… 19…
Lin Zhu, meanwhile, began dismantling the old lean-to with efficient movements, saving every usable nail and piece of less-rotten wood. He sketched rough measurements in the dirt with a stick, his carpenter's mind engaging with the problem.
By mid-morning, Wang Shi and the girls returned from foraging. Seeing the activity, Wang Shi paused. "Xiaohua, take your sister and see if you can cut some of the strong, flexible willow withes by the water. We'll need them for lashing." She then set her own basket down and approached Lin Yan. "The herbs you used yesterday. Show me."
Surprised, Lin Yan led her to the dandelion and plantain patches. With his "Basic Plant Identification" knowledge, he explained not just what they were, but how to prepare them for the chickens, and mentioned other common plants with medicinal properties for livestock—chickweed for general health, nettles (dried) for vitamins.
Wang Shi listened intently, her sharp eyes missing nothing. This was her domain—the keeping of life, the nursing of the sick. "This is… good knowledge, Yan'er. Where did you learn it?"
"I… noticed patterns," Lin Yan said, the half-truth coming easier now. "When the yellow hen ate these leaves, she seemed brighter. I just… put things together." He tapped his temple, suggesting intuitive wisdom.
Wang Shi looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Your grandmother had such an eye for plants. Perhaps it skipped a generation." She accepted the explanation, weaving it into the family's own narrative. "We will gather these as well. A household needs more than one healer."
[Action Recognized: Knowledge Transfer – Basic Herbalism. Family Skill Base Improved. Points awarded: +5.]
Points: 24.
Lin Yan suppressed a smile. Teaching the system's knowledge to his family was itself rewarded. It was a positive feedback loop.
The real work began in the afternoon when Lin Tie returned, his powerful frame glistening with creek water. After a brief, grim report of only one meager fish, he joined them. With Lin Tie's strength and Lin Zhu's direction, they ventured into the woods. Lin Yan and Lin Xiao followed, gathering armfuls of the long, dry marsh reeds they had cut earlier.
Haunting the forest, Lin Yan's new plant knowledge proved invaluable again. He avoided poisonous look-alikes and pointed out patches of edible mushrooms to his mother, who added them to her basket with quiet excitement. He also found a stand of wild garlic, its pungent smell a treasure trove of flavor and health.
But the system's true prize came when Lin Yan, digging near a half-rotted stump for grubs, uncovered not just insects, but a network of fat, white, tuberous roots. His knowledge module flared: Wild Yam (Dioscorea polystachya). Highly nutritious, carbohydrate-rich. Storable.
"Mother! Look!"
Wang Shi was beside him in an instant. She dug her fingers into the soil, her eyes widening as she traced the size of the root cluster. "Yam! A full nest of them!" This was real food. Sustaining, filling food. In minutes, they had carefully excavated a haul that filled half a basket with thick, starchy tubers. It was more solid nutrition than they'd seen in weeks.
[Action Recognized: Discovery of Significant Wild Food Source. Directly contributes to family sustenance. Points awarded: +10.]
[System Note: Host is demonstrating exceptional resource integration. Bonus for sustained multi-faceted development: +5.]
Points: 39.
He had it. More than enough for the blueprint.
As Lin Tie and Lin Zhu hauled the last of the straight, strong deadfall timber back to the plot, Lin Yan found a moment of solitude. He focused on the system store and purchased the Coop Blueprint.
A flood of information, not just images but techniques, poured into his mind. How to notch logs for stability. How to weave reed thatch for maximum water runoff. How to construct a slanted, removable dung board beneath a raised slatted floor. It was simple, rugged, and perfect.
He walked over to where Lin Zhu was squinting at his dirt sketches. "Second Brother, I have an idea for how to put it together…"
What followed was a subtle dance of leadership. Lin Yan couldn't claim the knowledge outright. Instead, he offered suggestions. "What if we stacked the walls like this, with the notches interlocking?" He drew in the dirt with a stick, mimicking the blueprint in his mind.
Lin Zhu frowned, then his eyes lit up. "Yes… that would be stronger than just nailing planks. It would bear weight better. How did you think of that?"
"I saw the way Old Chen's woodshed is built," Lin Yan lied smoothly. "But smaller."
Lin Zhu nodded, accepting it. With the blueprint's principles guiding them indirectly, the construction took shape with remarkable speed. Lin Tie, wielding their only axe with controlled power, sized and notched the logs. Lin Zhu, the precision craftsman, fitted them together. Lin Yan and Lin Xiao fetched and prepared materials, and the women worked on bundling the reeds into thick thatch sheets.
It was a family endeavor. Even Lin Xiaolian, her usual liveliness focused into determined effort, worked tirelessly weaving willow withes into ties. The shared purpose warmed the chill spring air.
They were halfway through raising the first wall when Old Chen appeared again.
His approach was silent, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene: the Lin family, not weeding his fields or begging for loans, but working together on a substantial, well-designed structure. His eyes flicked from the pile of good timber to the basket of wild yams sitting proudly by the hut door, to the three chickens now pecking contentedly in their temporary pen, their feathers looking fuller already.
"A new shed, Lin Dahu?" Old Chen called out, his voice jovial but his eyes cold. Lin Dahu, who was holding a log steady, straightened up, wiping his brow.
"For the chickens, Uncle Chen," he replied, his voice respectful but no longer submissive.
"For the chickens," Old Chen repeated, as if the words were absurd. He walked over, inspecting the notched joints. "Fine work, Lin Zhu. You learned well in town. A waste of skill on a chicken house, though." The insult was veiled as pity.
"The chickens are laying, Uncle Chen," Lin Yan spoke up, drawing the man's gaze. He met it steadily. "Three eggs in two days. A sturdy home will help them lay more. Then we can pay our debts sooner."
Old Chen's smile tightened. The equation was clear: the Lin family was investing in an asset that could generate wealth, not just survive. It was a direct challenge to his cycle of dependency. He looked at the yams again. "The woods and the marsh provide for us all. But they are not a family's private preserve. Be mindful of taking too much."
It was a warning, a claim of implicit ownership over the commons they were using.
"We are mindful, and grateful," Lin Yan said, bowing his head just enough. "We only take what we need to stand on our own feet, so we are no longer a burden to our neighbors."
The verbal parry was delicate. Old Chen couldn't argue with the sentiment, but the implication—that his "help" was a burden they wished to shed—clearly rankled. He hmphed, his gaze lingering on the industrious family. "See that you do. The tax collector cares not for chicken eggs. He wants grain. Or silver."
With that final reminder of the ultimate authority, he turned and walked away, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.
The work continued, but the mood had sobered. The reality of taxes, of silver, was a cliff still looming.
As dusk fell, the new coop was not finished, but its skeleton stood—strong, square, and promising. It was twice the size of the old lean-to, with a high, sloped roof frame ready for thatch. It looked permanent.
Exhausted but united, the family ate a supper that felt almost lavish: wild greens stir-fried with strips of the lone fish, and chunks of boiled wild yam. The starchy, nutty flavor of the yam was a profound comfort. For the first time in memory, no one left the table feeling the sharp, gnawing pang of hunger.
Later, Lin Yan lay on the kang, his muscles aching but his spirit thrumming. He pulled up the system screen.
[Mission Progress: 3/50 Eggs. Days Remaining: 27.]
[Total Points: 9 (after blueprint purchase).]
[New Structure: Coop (Under Construction). Quality: Good. Estimated effect on livestock productivity: +25%.]
[Family Cohesion: Increased. Skill Base: Expanded.]
[External Pressure: Village Dynamics – Status: Challenged. Debt Obligation: Active. Imperial Tax Liability: 38 Days.]
The mission was progressing, but the system was now contextualizing his journey within a wider world. The ranch was not just about eggs. It was about economics, social standing, and imperial demands.
He listened to the soft, rhythmic snores of his father. He heard Lin Xiao mumble in his sleep about "big eggs." Outside, in their temporary pen, the chickens were quiet.
They had laid the foundation today—not just for a coop, but for a future. It was made of deadfall timber, marsh reeds, and the unyielding will of a family that had decided, together, to build something better.
Lin Yan closed his eyes. Tomorrow, they would thatch the roof. Tomorrow, the hens would have a palace. And tomorrow, he would need to think about silver.