The early summer wind swept across the West Slope, carrying with it the heavy, humid breath of the approaching rainy season. It was the time of the *Mangzhong* solar term—the season of awning seeds and ripening plums. For the farmers of Willow Village, it meant one thing: the grueling summer harvest was just around the corner.
But for Li Wei, the focus wasn't on the wheat fields below. It was on the dirt beneath his feet.
He stood on the second terrace of the hill, now cleared of rubble and thorns, the earth turned over and exposed to the sun. In his hand, he held the pouch of "Gen II" Ryegrass seeds rewarded by the System.
They looked ordinary—small, beige, slightly oblong. But the System's description was anything but ordinary.
**[Item: Perennial Ryegrass (Gen II).]**
**[Traits: High Sugar Content (12% higher than standard), Rapid Germination (3 days), Deep Root System.]**
**[Effect: Increases daily weight gain in cattle by 15%. Improves milk yield.]**
"We can't just scatter them," Li Wei muttered, kneeling. "The rain will wash them away."
He turned to Da Niu, who was standing by with a basket of ash. "Mix the seeds with the fine soil and ash. One part seed, three parts soil. We need to bulk it up so the wind doesn't take them, and the ash provides a kick-start of potassium."
Da Niu nodded, his movements efficient. The boy had filled out slightly in the past few weeks. Regular meals—even if it was just porridge and vegetables—had put a layer of flesh on his bones, and his eyes had lost that feral, hunted look. He was becoming a worker, not just a survivor.
"Mix it evenly," Li Wei instructed. "Like you're making dough."
Li Jun, who was leaning on a rake nearby, wiped his brow. "Third Brother, are you sure this grass will grow? The first batch was good, but this slope… the soil is still thin in places."
"Trust the process, Jun," Li Wei said, grabbing a handful of the seed mixture. "And trust the manure we hauled up. We're not just planting grass; we're planting a savings account. Every blade of grass that grows here is copper we don't have to spend on feed."
He began to broadcast the seeds with a smooth, rhythmic motion of his wrist. *Flick. Flick. Flick.*
The grey mixture of ash and seeds arced through the air, settling gently onto the dark, manured earth.
"Rake it over," Li Wei commanded. "Lightly. Just enough to cover them. Don't bury them deep, or they'll suffocate."
The three of them worked in a steady rhythm. The sun beat down on their backs, and the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the distant scent of river mud.
By noon, the second terrace was sown.
"Water them," Li Wei said, grabbing a gourd. "Gently. Use the rose head on the watering can so you don't wash the seeds out."
As he watered, he watched the soil darken. It felt like a ritual.
*"System, confirm planting."*
**[Planting Confirmed. Gen II Ryegrass planted: Area 1 Mu.]**
**[Growth Timer Initiated.]**
**[Tip: Irrigation is critical for the first 48 hours.]**
Li Wei stood back, wiping his hands on his pants. He imagined what this hill would look like in a month—a carpet of emerald green, thick and lush, swaying in the wind. It would be a sight this village had never seen.
***
**The Festival Preparations**
Back at the main house, the atmosphere was different. The air was thick with steam and the sharp, herbal scent of bamboo leaves.
It was the day before the Dragon Boat Festival (*Duanwu*).
In the Empire, this was a major holiday. It was a time to ward off evil spirits, honor ancestors, and eat *Zongzi*—sticky rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves.
In the past, the Li family's *Zongzi* had been a sad affair. Plain glutinous rice, maybe a single red date if they were lucky, boiled until the rice was mushy. Meat was a distant dream.
But this year, things were different.
Li Wei walked into the kitchen, and the sight made him pause.
Mother Zhao Lan and Sister Mei were sitting on small stools, surrounded by basins. A pile of green bamboo leaves, soaked and scrubbed clean, sat in the middle. Bowls of ingredients were lined up.
There was the white glutinous rice, soaked until it looked like pearls. There were red beans. But there was also a small bowl of cured pork belly—salty, fatty, and precious.
And in another bowl, salted duck egg yolks.
"Where did the egg yolks come from?" Li Wei asked, surprised. The ducks were not theirs.
"I traded with Widow Zhang down the lane," Mother said, her hands busy folding a leaf into a cone. "She had extra duck eggs. I gave her a basket of our chicken eggs for a dozen duck eggs. I've been salting them for two weeks."
Li Wei's eyes widened. His mother was learning to invest and trade, too.
"And the pork?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
"From the money we made selling the eggs last week," Mei said, smiling up at him. She held up a wrapped *Zongzi*, perfectly pyramidal, tied with hemp string. "We aren't rich, but we can afford to eat a real festival meal this year."
Li Wei felt a lump in his throat. In his past life, he had ordered expensive takeout without blinking, yet the sight of a small bowl of cured pork in his peasant mother's kitchen felt like a victory greater than any corporate bonus.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"You?" Mother laughed. "Your hands are too rough for folding leaves. You'll tear them. Go help Father hang the mugwort on the doors. The spirits get active tonight."
Li Wei nodded and walked outside.
He found Father Li Dazhong standing on a stool, nailing a bundle of dried mugwort and calamus leaves above the main gate. The pungent, herbal smell was strong.
"Tradition," Dazhong grunted as he climbed down. "Keeps the sickness away."
"Sickness comes from bad water and lack of food, Father, not spirits," Li Wei said practically, though he helped steady the older man. "But the smell is nice. Keeps the mosquitoes away, at least."
Dazhong looked at his son. He looked at the stone walls of the house, then up the hill where the new bunkhouse sat like a sentinel.
"You planted the grass?" Dazhong asked.
"Yes. It will sprout in a few days."
"Good." Dazhong paused, digging into his pocket. He pulled out a small, red string. It was a braided bracelet, woven with five colored threads—a talisman for children.
"Your mother made it. For Little Chen. To protect him from the heat." He hesitated, then looked at Li Wei. "And for you. You work too hard. You need protection too."
He thrust the string into Li Wei's hand, looking away. "Don't lose it."
Li Wei looked at the crude but sturdy bracelet. It was a talisman for a child, yet his father was giving it to an eighteen-year-old man.
"I'll wear it," Li Wei said softly, tying it around his left wrist. "Thank you, Father."
***
**The Feast of Zongzi**
The next morning, the household woke up to the smell of boiling bamboo.
The *Zongzi* had been cooking in a massive iron pot over the hearth all night. The smell was intoxicating—earthy, savory, and sweet.
The entire extended family gathered in the courtyard. Grandparents, uncles, cousins. Usually, these gatherings were tense, filled with comparisons of who had more grain and who was struggling more. But today, the mood was lighter.
Li Wei sat on a bench with Li Jun and Li Chen. Da Niu sat a little way off, looking awkward and out of place. He wasn't family, and he knew it.
"Da Niu," Li Wei called out, waving him over. "Sit."
Da Niu hesitated, glancing at the elders.
"Sit," Father Dazhong commanded, though his tone wasn't harsh. "If you work the fields, you eat the rice."
Da Niu sat down quickly, bowing his head in thanks.
Mother Zhao Lan began handing out the *Zongzi*.
"Here, Chen'er, yours has the egg yolk," she said, handing one to the youngest.
"And this one…" She handed a larger one to Li Wei. "Wei'er, this one has pork. You need the strength."
Li Wei unwrapped the leaf. The sticky rice was translucent, clinging together in a smooth mass. In the center, the piece of cured pork glistened with fat, and a bright orange egg yolk sat beside it.
It was a masterpiece of peasant cuisine.
Li Wei took a bite.
The texture was sticky and chewy, the rice having absorbed the flavor of the bamboo leaf. The pork was salty and rich, the fat melting on the tongue, while the egg yolk added a gritty, savory texture.
He closed his eyes, savoring it.
*This,* he thought. *This is why I came back. Not for the system. Not for the money. For a meal where no one is hungry.*
"Good?" Li Hua asked, her mouth full of rice. She was eating a sweet one with red bean paste.
"Delicious," Li Wei nodded. He looked at Da Niu, who was staring at his own *Zongzi*—a plain one with just rice.
Li Wei reached over and swapped his meat-filled *Zongzi* with Da Niu's.
"Boss?" Da Niu froze.
"I don't like pork," Li Wei lied smoothly. "Too salty. I like the plain ones better. Trade me."
Da Niu looked at the pork *Zongzi* in his hand. He knew the boss was lying. He looked at Li Wei's wrist, where the colored string bracelet sat.
"Thank you… Boss," Da Niu whispered, his voice cracking. He took a small bite of the pork, closing his eyes in ecstasy.
Li Jun, sitting next to them, nudged Li Wei. "You're a terrible liar, Third Brother. But you're a good man."
"Shut up and eat your rice," Li Wei grinned.
***
**The Gen II Miracle**
The festival ended in the late afternoon. The family sat around, full and happy, drinking tea made from the boiled water of the *Zongzi* (a local tradition said it prevented summer boils).
But Li Wei couldn't sit still for long. The clouds were gathering in the west, dark and heavy.
"A storm is coming," Grandpa Li noted, looking at the sky. "We should cover the grain stacks."
Li Wei looked up the hill.
"I need to check the terrace," he said. "The seeds."
He jogged up the slope. The wind was picking up, whipping his tunic around him. He reached the second terrace.
The soil was dry. The afternoon sun had baked the top layer. If the rain came down hard, it could wash the seeds right off the slope.
"We need to cover them with straw mats," Li Wei muttered. He ran to the tool shed.
Suddenly, the System pinged.
**[Warning: Environmental Stress detected. Activate Emergency Growth Protocol?]**
*"What is that?"* Li Wei asked internally.
**[Protocol: The Gen II seeds contain a dormant enzyme activated by sudden temperature drops or moisture spikes. They will sprout instantly to anchor the soil.]**
Li Wei blinked. *Instantly?*
The first drop of rain hit his nose. Cold. Large.
Then the sky opened up. It wasn't a drizzle; it was a torrential summer downpour. The sound was deafening, a roar of water hammering the earth.
Li Wei scrambled to pull the straw mats over the terrace, struggling against the wind. He managed to pin down a few corners, but he was soaked to the bone in seconds.
He stood there, wiping the water from his eyes, watching the mud run off the edges of the terrace.
"Please," he whispered. "Hold."
The rain fell for an hour. A deluge that turned the paths into rivers and filled the gullies.
When it finally stopped, the sun broke through the clouds, steam rising from the wet ground.
Li Wei rushed to the terrace. He pulled back the soaking wet straw mats.
He froze.
The soil hadn't washed away. It was held in place by a network of tiny, pale green threads.
Thousands of them.
Tiny, delicate shoots, no longer than a fingernail, had pierced the surface. They were standing upright, shaking off the water droplets, vibrant and alive.
It had only been twelve hours since he planted them.
**[Update: Germination Complete.]**
**[Current Growth Stage: Seedling.]**
**[Root System: Anchored (Level 2). Soil erosion reduced by 80%.]**
Li Wei fell to his knees in the mud, laughing.
"Are you crazy?!" Li Jun shouted, running up the hill with a rain hat. "You'll get sick! Why are you laughing in the mud?"
Li Wei pointed at the ground.
"Look, Jun. Look."
Li Jun leaned in, squinting. "Moss?"
"No. Grass. It's growing. It's already growing."
Li Wei stood up, his clothes plastered to his skin, shivering, but his eyes burning with a feverish light.
"The storm didn't kill it. It fed it."
He looked out over the valley. The storm had passed. The air was clean and sharp. The village below was shrouded in mist.
"Summer is here, Jun," Li Wei said. "And for the first time, I'm not afraid of it."
He turned back to the house. "Come on. Mother made tea. And I have a ranch to build."
The Gen II grass was a success. The silage pit was fermenting. The bull was healthy.
The foundation of Cloud Hill Ranch was no longer just stone and mud. It was rooted in the earth, alive and growing.