The morning mist over the West River had a new companion: the scent of sweet vegetation.
It wasn't the sharp, dry smell of wild grasses or the dusty odor of harvested wheat. It was a lush, intoxicating fragrance, heavy with moisture and life.
Li Wei stood on the porch of the bunkhouse, pulling on his boots. He adjusted the wide-brimmed hat on his head—the rough, oiled cloth stiff against his forehead. It wasn't leather yet, but it cast a long shadow over his eyes, shielding him from the pale dawn light.
He whistled, a sharp, trilling note that cut through the air.
From the stable, a brown blur shot out. Storm, the scrub horse, galloped into the corral, kicking up his heels. He had finally filled out. The ribs were no longer visible, covered by a layer of sleek muscle. The daily diet of alfalfa and the care for his hooves had transformed the "man-eater" into a spirited, healthy steed.
But Li Wei's attention was on the hillside.
The five *mu* of cleared land had vanished. In its place was a rolling, undulating ocean of emerald green.
The alfalfa had matured.
It stood knee-high, dense and thick, a carpet of three-lobed leaves and purple flower buds. It was a sight that defied the logic of the local farmers. In a land of yellow earth and rocky soil, Li Wei had grown a jungle.
"Boss," Da Shan walked up, wiping sleep from his eyes. He stopped, staring at the field. "It... it grew again last night. I swear it was ankle high yesterday."
"Alfalfa grows fast when it's happy," Li Wei said, patting his leg. "And right now, it's very happy. But we have a problem."
"A problem? It's a miracle!"
"It's too much," Li Wei said seriously. "The cows can't eat it fast enough. If we let it grow too tall, the stems will get woody. The nutrition will drop. And if it rains and the bottom layer rots, we'll invite fungus and bugs."
He turned to his foreman. "We need to harvest. Today. All of it."
"All of it?!" Da Shan's eyes nearly popped out. "Boss, that's five *mu*! It will take us a week with sickles!"
"Not if we work smart," Li Wei said, walking towards the equipment shed. "Wake the men. Get the scythes. I have a plan."
***
**The Battle of the Green Field**
Breakfast was a hurried affair of porridge and pickled eggs. The workers ate quickly, sensing the urgency in Li Wei's voice.
"The goal isn't just to cut it," Li Wei explained, drawing a diagram in the dirt with a stick. "We cut it, we let it wilt in the sun for half a day to reduce moisture, and then we store it."
"Store it?" Ox asked, mouth full. "The barn is full of hay already."
"We're not making hay," Li Wei said. "We're making silage."
"Si... what?"
"Silage," Li Wei repeated. "Pickled grass. It stays green and juicy all winter. The cows love it, and it makes them fat."
The workers looked at each other. Pickled grass? The boy was mad again.
But they had learned to trust him.
They moved into the field. The alfalfa was so dense that walking through it was like wading through water. Dew soaked their trousers instantly.
"Form a line!" Li Wei commanded. He held a scythe—a long, curved blade on a wooden handle. He adjusted his grip.
**[System Knowledge: Scything Technique.]**
**[Focus: Rhythm. Keep the blade low. Slice, don't chop.]**
*Swish.*
The blade sang through the thick stems. A swathe of green collapsed.
*Swish.*
The workers followed. *Swish, swish, swish.*
It was backbreaking labor. The sun climbed higher, turning the field into a steaming sauna. The scent of cut alfalfa filled the air, sweet and cloying.
Li Wei worked at the front, setting the pace. He didn't stop. The system guided his breathing, allowing him to push past the burning in his shoulders.
"Da Shan! Rake the cuttings into windrows! Don't leave clumps!" Li Wei shouted over the noise.
By midday, half the field was gone. It looked like a barber had given the hillside a half-shaved haircut. The ground was littered with green piles.
"Water break!" Li Wei called out.
They collapsed under the shade of the bunkhouse eaves. Ox drank an entire gourd of water in one go.
"Boss," Ox panted. "My back is broken. Can't we just let the cows eat it?"
"The cows will trample half of it," Li Wei said, wringing out his shirt. "And when winter comes and the ground is frozen, what will they eat? This grass is our bank account. We are depositing it now so we can withdraw it in December."
He looked at the sun. "Two more hours, then we start the pit."
***
**The Silage Pit**
Li Wei had chosen a spot near the barn—a depression in the ground that was naturally sheltered from the wind.
"Dig it out," he had ordered earlier. "Make it deep. Line the walls with straw."
Now, the pit was a gaping maw in the earth.
"Bring the carts!"
They loaded the wilting alfalfa onto the donkey cart and the handcart. Trip after trip, they dumped the green mass into the pit.
"Get in there!" Li Wei jumped into the pit. "We have to trample it!"
"Trample it?" Li Chen, who had come to watch after school, giggled.
"Yes! Like making wine!" Li Wei shouted, stomping on the grass with his boots. "We need to squeeze all the air out! If there's air, it rots. If there's no air, it ferments! Come on!"
Ox and Da Shan jumped in. They began to stomp on the grass, packing it down tight. It was like a strange, green dance.
"Faster! Harder!"
They packed layer after layer. The pit began to fill. The smell changed from fresh grass to a sharp, acidic tang—the beginning of fermentation.
As the sun began to set, the pit was full. It was a mound of compressed green.
"Cover it," Li Wei panted, climbing out. "Straw first. Then a layer of mud. Seal it tight. We don't want any holes."
They shoveled mud over the straw, plastering the mound until it looked like a giant earthen igloo.
"That's it," Li Wei wiped his muddy hands on his pants. "In three weeks, we open it. If it smells like vinegar and apples, we're rich. If it smells like garbage... we have compost."
***
**The Unwanted Observer**
As they were washing up by the river, a shadow fell over the water.
Li Wei looked up. A man stood on the ridge. He wasn't a villager.
He wore the dark blue tunic of a Yamen runner, but his build was heavier, and he had the swagger of a thug. He wasn't the one Li Wei had seen before.
"Is this the Li Family Ranch?" the man called out. His voice was nasal and arrogant.
Li Wei stood up, drying his hands. "I am Li Wei. Who are you?"
"I am Steward Zhou's man," the runner said, walking down the slope. He looked around, his eyes lingering on the alfalfa field—which was now half-cut—and the sealed silage pit. "The Steward heard you were doing... landscaping. He didn't like the look of it."
"Landscaping?" Li Wei frowned. "It's farming."
"Is it now?" The runner sneered. "Clearing land without a permit? Digging pits? It looks suspicious. Could be a trap for bandits. Or a hideout."
"We have a tax agreement," Li Wei said calmly, though his heart beat faster. "We paid the deposit."
"Deposit is for the land tax," the runner scoffed. "This is about the 'Environmental Fee'."
"Environmental Fee?"
"The Steward says your digging is disturbing the dragon veins of the river. Bad feng shui. Might bring floods to the village. He's worried. For a fee, he can stop worrying."
Blackmail. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Li Wei stared at the man. He was just a lackey. The Steward—or someone above him—had realized the wasteland was productive. The rot had set in.
"How much?" Li Wei asked.
"Five hundred coins. Monthly."
"Five hundred?" Li Wei laughed. "I don't make five hundred coins a month."
"Don't play poor with me," the runner stepped closer, jabbing a finger at Li Wei's chest. "I saw the chickens. I saw the cows. The Steward knows you're selling eggs to the big restaurant. You're the new rich boy in town. Pay up, or the pit gets filled with stones."
Li Wei didn't step back. He looked the runner in the eye.
"Tell Steward Zhou," Li Wei said slowly, "that I respect the law. I will pay the standard land tax at the harvest festival, as agreed. As for the 'dragon veins'... I am improving the land. The village chief has already inspected it."
The runner's face darkened. "You think the Village Chief can save you? He's a frog in a well. The Steward is a dragon."
He spat on the ground. "You have three days. Or the cows get confiscated for 'inspection'."
He turned and walked away, whistling a tune.
***
**The Night Council**
That night, the atmosphere in the bunkhouse was heavy.
"We can't pay that," Da Shan said, slamming his fist into his palm. "Five hundred coins? That's robbery!"
"It's because they see the green," Li Wei said, sitting on his bunk. He was sharpening a knife. The rhythmic *shing-shing* of the stone was the only sound for a moment. "They see the grass. They smell the money."
"We can fight," Ox growled. "I can break that skinny runner in half."
"No," Qin Hu said from the corner. He was polishing his crutch, but his eyes were sharp. "Fighting a yamen runner is rebellion. That brings the army. We can't fight force with force. Not yet."
Li Wei stopped sharpening. "Big Qin is right. We have to be smarter."
He looked at the system interface.
**[Warning: External Pressure Detected.]**
**[Reputation: Rising (Attracting Greed).]**
**[Recommendation: Secure a powerful backer or increase economic value to become indispensable.]**
"We need a backer," Li Wei said. "Someone the Steward is afraid of. Or someone who benefits from us more than the Steward can extort."
"The Restaurant?" Da Shan suggested.
"Too weak," Li Wei shook his head. "They just buy eggs. They won't fight the Yamen for us."
He thought about the "Golden Eggs." He thought about the beef he was going to produce.
"The beef," Li Wei whispered.
"What?"
"We need to speed up the breeding," Li Wei stood up, a new fire in his eyes. "We need to produce the highest quality meat this province has ever seen. And we need to give it to the right person."
He looked at Qin Hu. "You said you served in the frontier. Did you ever hear of the Imperial Guard? Or the Magistrate's superior?"
"The Prefect," Qin Hu said slowly. "He visits once a year for the harvest festival. He's a glutton. And he hates the local Yamen for being corrupt."
Li Wei smiled. It was a cold, calculating smile.
"The Prefect," Li Wei said. "In three months, at the festival, I'm going to serve him a steak. A steak so good he'll ask for the chef. And when he finds out it came from a poor boy being shaken down by the Yamen..."
"He'll protect the cow to protect his stomach," Qin Hu finished, a rare grin spreading across his scarred face.
"Exactly."
Li Wei looked at his workers. "We have three days to stall. Ox, when they come back, act stupid. Confuse them. Da Shan, double the guard on the cows. No one sleeps alone."
"And the runner?" Da Shan asked.
"I'll handle the runner," Li Wei said. "I have a plan for him too."
He walked out of the bunkhouse and into the night. The silage pit sat in the darkness, a sealed tomb of potential energy.
"System," Li Wei thought. "Unlock the Brahman crossbreeding protocol."
**[Requirement: 5 Head of Cattle (Met).]**
**[Requirement: High-Protein Forage (Met - Silage Pending).]**
**[Initiating Protocol: Genetic Selection.]**
He walked to the barn. Black Wind, the bull, snorted as Li Wei approached.
"You and me, big guy," Li Wei whispered, scratching the bull's ears. "We're going to make history. But first, we have to survive the wolves at the door."
He checked the lock on the gate. It was strong.
But he knew it wasn't strong enough. He needed to turn this ranch into a fortress, and he needed to turn his cows into gold.
The race against winter—and the Yamen—had officially begun.