The three days following the exam were the longest of Chen Yuan's life.
The weather had cleared, revealing a sky of piercing blue, but the atmosphere in the Chen household was stifled. The family moved through their chores like ghosts, ears straining for the sound of hoofbeats or a shout from the village below.
The planting of the summer grass was in full swing. Chen Yuan had selected a plot on the southern slope of the East Hill, where the sun was strongest.
"Spread the seeds evenly," Chen Yuan instructed, his voice raspy. He was walking behind Hei Tan, guiding the bull as it pulled a crude harrow—a frame of wood with iron teeth that broke up the soil clods. "Don't bunch them up. They need room to breathe."
Little Stone and a few hired village boys scattered the *Alfalfa* and *Tall Fescue* seeds. These were System-enhanced seeds, designed for the heat and drought of the coming summer.
Chen Yuan wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was covered in dust. His hands were blistered from the plow handles.
"Boss," Little Stone ran up, panting. "The... the list! I just came from the village! The notice board!"
Chen Yuan stopped. Hei Tan stopped with him, sensing the tension in the reins.
"Is it up?"
"Yes! The Prefecture School list! It's posted at the Yamen!"
Chen Yuan dropped the reins. "Xu Tie! Watch the bull!"
He didn't run; he sprinted. He tore down the hill, his boots sliding in the loose dirt. Little Stone struggled to keep up.
By the time they reached the village center, a crowd had already gathered in front of the notice board near the Village Chief's house. The air was thick with tension. This wasn't just about one boy; the success of a village boy in the Prefecture School exam was a matter of pride for all of Willow Village.
Chen Yuan pushed his way through the crowd.
"Let me through!"
He reached the front. The red paper was pasted to the board, the names written in bold, black calligraphy.
There were fifty names. Only fifty spots for the entire Prefecture.
Chen Yuan's eyes scanned the list frantically.
*Wang, Li, Zhang, Zhao...*
His heart hammered.
*Chen...*
There.
*Rank 14: Chen Ming (Willow Village).*
Fourteenth. He had passed. Not just passed, but in the top tier.
"Fourteenth!" someone shouted from behind him. "Willow Village has a scholar in the top twenty!"
"It's Old Chen's son!"
"Aiya, Dazhong has a promising son!"
The villagers erupted. The envy and gossip of the past few months evaporated, replaced by a collective, beaming pride. In this world, a scholar was a face for the village. If Ming succeeded, Willow Village would be respected in the county.
Chen Yuan let out a breath that felt like it emptied his entire body. His legs wobbled. He leaned against a post.
*He did it. He actually did it.*
"San Lang! Did you see?!"
Chen Yuan turned. His father, Chen Dazhong, was running up the path, his face streaked with tears. He had been working in the fields and heard the shouting.
"He passed, Father!" Chen Yuan grabbed his father's shoulders. "Fourteenth place!"
Chen Dazhong fell to his knees, facing the direction of the ancestral shrine. "Ancestors! Ancestors bless us! My son is a scholar!"
The joy was overwhelming. Even Wang Shi was crying, blowing her nose loudly into a handkerchief.
"We need to celebrate!" Wang Shi declared. "We must kill a chicken!"
"Kill two!" Chen Hu shouted.
But Chen Yuan, amidst the jubilation, felt a cold prickle on the back of his neck. He looked across the crowd.
Standing near the edge of the square, looking bored and indifferent, were two men in leather vests. The same Lin family thugs who had visited the ranch.
They weren't celebrating. They were watching the Chen family.
One of them sneered, turned, and walked away.
*They know,* Chen Yuan thought. *They know we have money now. They know we have status. And they know we are vulnerable.*
* * *
The celebration that night was modest but joyous.
Ming, the center of attention, sat at the head of the table, looking dazed. He was wearing his new blue robe, which was now stained with a splash of oil from the feast.
"Eat, Ming!" Liu Shi piled meat into his bowl. "You are growing. You need strength for the school."
"Brother," Ming looked at Chen Yuan, his eyes shining. "I couldn't have done it without the inkstone. And the tutor. Thank you."
"It was your hard work," Chen Yuan said, raising his cup of rice wine. "But Ming... Prefecture School is not the village school. The boys there... they will be sons of merchants, officials, and wealthy landlords. They will look down on you. You must be strong."
"I know," Ming nodded, his expression serious. "Master Qian taught me that. He said, 'Let them mock your clothes, but never let them mock your words.' I will study harder than anyone."
"Good."
Chen Yuan looked at Master Qian, who was eating quietly in the corner. The tutor looked tired but satisfied. His three taels of silver had been earned.
"Master Qian," Chen Yuan called out. "Will you stay? Ming will need guidance even in school. I can pay a retainer."
Qian Zhong shook his head. "No. The boy has surpassed me. He needs to stand on his own now. I will return to the city. But... if you need letters written or business contracts reviewed... I am available."
"Thank you."
* * *
The joy of the exam result acted like a stimulant for the ranch.
With the planting of the summer grass done, Chen Yuan turned his attention back to the most pressing issue: The Lin Family.
The Bacon trade was booming. The news that the Prefecture School student's family made the meat had actually helped sales in the city. People liked buying from a 'scholarly' family. It felt cleaner.
But the Lin family wasn't sitting idle.
Three days later, Chen Yuan took a cart of bacon and soil to the city.
As he approached the city gates, he saw a line of carts backed up. The guards were inspecting every single cart thoroughly—overturning baskets, poking spears into grain sacks, causing massive delays.
"What is this?" Chen Yuan asked a farmer waiting in line.
"New orders," the farmer spat. "The Guild Head complained about 'smuggled goods' entering the city. Now the guards check everything. They ruined my eggs just now, poking them!"
Chen Yuan frowned. He looked at his own cart. He had twenty slabs of bacon, neatly packed. If a guard decided to stab them with a sword to "check for rot," he would lose half his profit.
He waited in line. When his turn came, the guard captain stepped forward. It was a different man than usual—burly, with a pig-faced mask over his nose.
"Open the cart," the captain barked.
Chen Yuan jumped down. "Officer. It's cured meat. Soil. And flowers. You can see the seal of the City Lord's Manor on the soil bags."
"New regulations," the captain sneered. "We have to check for contraband. And meat... meat needs to be inspected for freshness."
He drew his sword.
"Wait," Chen Yuan raised his hand. "If you cut the meat, it spoils. You are looking for contraband, not rot. The Meat Guild has no jurisdiction over cured goods. If you destroy this, I will file a complaint with the Steward. I supply the Immortal Pavilion and the City Lord's wife."
The captain hesitated. The mention of the Steward was powerful. But then, a voice called out from the gatehouse.
"What is the delay here?"
A man in a fine silk robe walked out. It was Manager Lin himself.
"Ah, Manager Lin," the captain instantly bowed, his attitude changing. "This merchant is refusing inspection."
Manager Lin walked over, twirling a folding fan. He looked at Chen Yuan with a predatory smile.
"Chen Yuan. Congratulations on your brother. Fourteenth place. Imppressive."
"Thank you, Manager Lin," Chen Yuan said, keeping his face neutral.
"It is a shame," Manager Lin sighed, shaking his head. "Education is expensive. And dangerous. Young scholars... they get sick easily. Accidents happen."
The threat was barely veiled.
"Manager Lin," Chen Yuan said loudly, making sure the surrounding crowd heard. "I am a simple merchant. I have a license to sell dried goods. If your guards destroy my goods without cause, it is robbery. The City Lord does not like robbers disrupting the city's commerce."
Manager Lin's eyes narrowed. He didn't like being threatened back.
"Inspect it," Manager Lin waved his hand dismissively. "But be gentle. We wouldn't want to upset the *Steward*."
The captain sheathed his sword but ordered the bags to be emptied. The soil bags were opened, spilling the dark earth onto the road.
"My soil!" Chen Yuan shouted. "It is mixed! I cannot re-bag it easily!"
"Clean it up," the captain laughed. "You want to enter? Clean it up."
Chen Yuan's fists clenched. This was harassment. Pure and simple. They were trying to make his business unprofitable by increasing his labor and damaging his product.
Xu Tie, who was sitting on the cart, stood up. His hand went to his waist.
"Xu Tie," Chen Yuan said sharply. "No."
He turned to Manager Lin. "I will remember this kindness, Manager Lin."
"I'm sure you will," Manager Lin chuckled and walked away.
It took Chen Yuan two hours to scoop the soil back into the bags. He missed the delivery time for the restaurant. He had to store the goods at a warehouse and sell them the next morning at a discount.
* * *
That night, Chen Yuan sat in his room, staring at the wall.
The Lin family was a wall. A massive, slimy wall. He couldn't climb over it, and he couldn't break through it. Not yet.
"We need a different path," he muttered.
He looked at the map of the Prefecture. The City was the center. The Lin family controlled the center. The East Gate, the West Gate, the markets.
But what about the outside?
"The army," he whispered.
Captain Liu. The militia.
The militia was always underfunded. They bought cheap, tough grain. They bought coarse cloth.
*I have bacon,* Chen Yuan thought. *But bacon is 'luxury' food.*
*I have soil.*
*I have... cattle.*
He looked at the system interface.
**[Ranch Funds: 8 Taels.]**
**[Livestock: 4 Sheep, 1 Bull, 1 Cow, 1 Calf.]**
**[Current Problem: Market Access.]**
*System, what does an army need?*
**[An army marches on its stomach.]**
**[High Demand Items:]**
* *Durable Preserved Meat (Jerky).*
* *Horses.*
* *Leather.*
*Jerky.*
Bacon was fatty and required cooking. Jerky was lean, dry, and could be eaten on the march. It was the perfect military ration.
But jerky required lean meat. Lean meat was what the Lin family was dumping because they couldn't sell the tough cuts to the city folks.
"They are throwing away the very thing I need," Chen Yuan realized. "They want the fat for the rich. They discard the tough muscle."
He stood up.
"Father!" he called out.
Chen Dazhong came in. "What is it, San Lang?"
"Tomorrow, I'm going to see Captain Liu. Not as a merchant. As a supplier. I need to make a deal."
He paused.
"And I need to buy the 'waste' from the slaughterhouses. The tough meat, the tendons, the offal that nobody wants."
"That's garbage," Dazhong frowned.
"That's army rations," Chen Yuan corrected. "And leather."
He looked out the window. The moon was rising.
The Lin family thought they had cornered him in the city market. He would simply leave the city market. He would sell to the people who protected the city.
If the Lin family wanted a fight, they would find that the rancher had an army behind him.
"Tomorrow," Chen Yuan said. "We start the second phase."