The first frost arrived with a silence that was louder than the thunder.
Lin Chen woke to a world painted white. The mud was hard as iron, the puddles in the yard frozen into mirrors, and the breath of the animals in the shed hung in the air like ghostly clouds.
He stepped out of the hut, the crunch of frost under his boots satisfyingly loud. The "charity" coal from the Su manor had arrived late last night, dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. It was a rough, sooty anthracite, but it burned hot.
"Zhao Hu," Lin Chen called out, seeing the burly man already awake, chopping wood with rhythmic precision. "Save the strong pieces. We need fence posts today."
Zhao Hu paused, wiping his brow despite the cold. "The ground is frozen, Scholar. Driving posts now will break your back. Or the wood."
"Then we dig holes," Lin Chen said, wrapping a thick scarf around his neck—a piece of cloth he had hastily sewn from an old blanket. "The sun will soften the surface by noon. If we wait for perfect weather, we'll never build anything."
He walked over to the animal shed. The smell of warm manure and hay greeted him. The sheep and goats huddled together, their bodies creating a pocket of warmth.
Lin Chen counted them. One, two, three goats. Five sheep.
He frowned.
He counted again.
"Six," he whispered.
The largest of the wether sheep—a greedy, woolly creature Lin Chen had nicknamed "Big Ears"—was missing.
Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in his chest. He rushed to the back of the shed. There, in the corner, a section of the rough stone wall had collapsed. A hole, hidden by straw, gaped open.
"Zhao Hu!" Lin Chen shouted, running back out. "One is gone! Big Ears!"
Zhao Hu dropped the axe. "The black one? He was heavy. He can't have gone far."
"He can have gone all the way down the mountain," Lin Chen said, his heart sinking. A sheep on the loose in wolf territory was a dinner bell. "Mu'er! Wake up! We have a runner."
***
They found the tracks easily enough in the frost. Heavy, cloven prints leading not down the mountain towards the village, but up, towards the dense pine forests on the ridge.
"Crazy beast," Zhao Hu grunted, tracking the prints. "Going up where the predators are."
"He's scared," Lin Chen said, huffing as he climbed the steep slope. "He found a hole and ran. We need to catch him before he tires himself out or gets scented."
They trekked for twenty minutes. The terrain grew rugged, covered in sharp rocks and thorny bushes that tore at their clothes.
"There," Lin Mu pointed, his young eyes sharp.
In a small clearing ahead, Big Ears stood stubbornly. The sheep had gotten his wool caught on a thorny bramble and was tangled, bleating in frustration and fear.
"Easy," Lin Chen whispered. He signaled for the others to stay back. "If we rush him, he might tear his fleece or break a leg."
He approached slowly, hands open. "Good boy, Big Ears. Just calm down."
The sheep stopped bleating, eyeing him with wild, rolling eyes. As Lin Chen got within five feet, the sheep yanked hard, tearing a clump of wool off, and bolted—straight towards a rocky drop-off.
"No!" Lin Chen lunged. He didn't try to tackle the animal; he knew he wasn't strong enough. Instead, he pulled the coil of rope from his belt.
It was a move he had only read about in the system's archives, a technique from the vast plains of the West, translated into the body of a weak scholar.
He swung the loop.
The rope hissed through the cold air.
It missed the sheep's neck by a foot.
Big Ears scrambled over the rocks.
Lin Chen didn't hesitate. He coiled and swung again. His wrist snapped the rope with a sharp *crack*.
This time, the loop settled perfectly over the sheep's horns and neck.
Lin Chen yanked the rope tight instantly, anchoring himself behind a sturdy pine tree. The rope snapped taut. The sheep choked, jerking to a sudden halt, its legs flailing.
"Got you!" Lin Chen gasped, the impact nearly pulling his shoulder out of its socket.
Zhao Hu rushed forward, grabbing the sheep by the horns and wrestling it to the ground. "Nice throw," he admitted, panting. "A soldier's snare. Where did you learn that?"
"It's called a lasso," Lin Chen said, rubbing his throbbing shoulder. He walked over to the panting animal. He didn't scold it. He knelt and checked the neck. No damage, just a scared animal. "It's how they catch horses in the far West. Or so the books say."
He patted the sheep's flank. "Let's get him home."
***
The walk back was somber. The incident was a wake-up call.
When they returned to the ranch, Lin Chen didn't put the sheep back in the pen immediately. He sat on a rock outside the shed, the rope in his hands.
"The fence is a joke," Lin Chen said quietly. "The stone wall is unstable. We were lucky today. Next time, it might be a wolf, or a thief."
"We don't have the wood for a full timber fence," Zhao Hu said, tossing a pebble. "And the ground is freezing."
"We use what we have," Lin Chen said. He stood up, his eyes burning with a new intensity. "We dig a trench. We use the thorny bushes we cleared. We weave them between the posts. A hedge of thorns. It keeps wolves out and sheep in."
He looked at Zhao Hu. "And I need to practice."
"Practice?"
"The lasso," Lin Chen said, coiling the rope. "I missed the first time. If I had been faster, we wouldn't have chased him for an hour. I want you to make me some targets. Stumps, logs. I'm going to learn to catch anything that moves."
Zhao Hu looked at the scholar, then at the rope. There was something in Lin Chen's eyes that hadn't been there a week ago—a predatory focus.
"Alright," Zhao Hu smirked. "I'll set up the targets. But you teach me too. That throw... it has uses beyond catching stupid sheep."
***
The afternoon was spent in rigorous labor. They dug a two-foot trench around the perimeter of the pen, using the frozen earth to create a barrier. They dragged the piles of thorny brambles they had cleared earlier and packed them into the trench, creating a formidable defensive hedge.
It was ugly, prickly work. Lin Mu's hands were scratched, and Lin Chen's fingers were numb. But by sunset, the animal pen was a fortress of thorns.
That evening, inside the hut, the atmosphere had changed.
The charcoal brazier glowed a deep orange, warming the small space. Lin Chen sat cross-legged on his mat, unwrapping the cloth from his hands. The blisters had calloused over, turning into hard, rough skin.
He opened his system interface.
**[Skill Unlocked: Basic Lasso Technique (Level 1).]**
**[Proficiency: 5/100. Requires continuous practice.]**
**[Mission Update: Secure the Perimeter. (Complete).]**
**[Reward: Blueprint - Wooden Chute (For herding and medical treatment).]**
"Brother," Lin Mu said, holding a bowl of hot broth made from the bones of a rabbit Zhao Hu had trapped. "Your hands... they look like a farmer's now."
Lin Chen looked at his palms. They were scarred, dirty, and strong.
"Good," Lin Chen said. "A scholar's hands shake when they hold a sword. A farmer's hands hold the world."
He took a sip of the broth. It was salty, with a hint of wild ginger. Simple, but revitalizing.
"The sheep is back," Zhao Hu said, sitting across from them, sharpening his knife. "The fence is fixed. But winter is getting colder. We have food for the animals for a month, maybe two. After that?"
"After that, we need to expand," Lin Chen said. "The silage will be ready in two weeks. If it works, we have a surplus. I want to buy a cow."
"A cow?" Lin Mu asked. "They cost ten taels! Or more!"
"A local cow," Lin Chen clarified. "A plow cow. Old, maybe infertile. One the farmers think is useless. I don't need it to pull a plow. I need it to... breed."
He didn't explain the system's genetic modification capabilities. He didn't need to. Not yet.
"I saw a farmer in the village, Old Liu," Zhao Hu recalled. "He has a yellow cow. Can't work anymore. Leg injury. He was going to sell it to the butcher for meat."
"Tomorrow," Lin Chen said. "We visit Old Liu. If the meat is all it's good for, I'll buy it for meat prices. But if I can heal it..."
He trailed off, looking into the fire. The system had given him the knowledge of the **Brahman** breed—resilience, hardiness. If he could crossbreed a local cow with a bull he would eventually acquire, or perhaps trigger a genetic awakening through the system's specific feed formulas... the possibilities were endless.
But first, he needed the mother.
"Rest early," Lin Chen said, standing up. "Tomorrow, we add a cow to the herd. And Zhao Hu?"
"Hmm?"
"Find me a good piece of leather. I need to make a proper belt for this rope. This scholar's sash isn't built for this work."
Zhao Hu let out a rare, genuine chuckle. "Aye, Boss. I'll find you a belt. We'll turn you into a country bumpkin yet."
Lin Chen smiled. "Country bumpkin? No."
He looked out the window at the dark, starlit mountains.
"I'm going to be the King of this Mountain."