The thaw had turned the ranch into a grey, slushy mess. The mud was relentless, clinging to boots and hooves, turning the paths into precarious slides. But despite the filth, the air felt different. It smelled of wet earth, pine resin, and the faint, sweet scent of new grass beginning to shoot up beneath the rotting snow.
Lin Chen stood by the fence of the isolation pen, watching Tie Shan.
The Brahman bull was acclimating well. His initial aggression had mellowed into a haughty arrogance. He stood in the muddy corner, his massive hump casting a shadow over the trough. He was no longer the skeletal, frantic beast of the market; the silage and rest had put a sleek sheen on his ashen coat.
"He's staring at the cows," Dahu noted, leaning on his shovel. He was nervous around the bull, and with good reason. "He knows they're there."
"Of course he knows," Lin Chen said, adjusting his bamboo hat. "He can smell them. That's why we need to move fast. If he gets too frustrated, he'll try to break through the fence."
Lin Chen turned to the small herd in the adjacent paddock. The fifteen sheep were recovering well, their wool fluffing up. The two cows bought from Wang Da were still thin, but their coughs had ceased. And then there was Hope.
The yellow cow stood near the fence, chewing a mouthful of dried grass. She looked at Tie Shan with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She was the healthiest of the lot, her hip fully healed, her body sturdy.
"She's ready," Lin Chen murmured. "But Tie Shan is too heavy. If he mounts her naturally, he could crush her spine. We need a breeding chute."
"A what?" Zhao Hu asked, walking up with a load of wooden planks.
"A structure to support the cow," Lin Chen explained, grabbing a piece of charcoal and sketching on a board. "We build a sturdy frame. The cow stands inside it. We place a belly band under her to support her weight. When the bull mounts, the frame takes the weight, not the cow's back. It's safer for both of them."
It was technology from the modern era, adapted for ancient wood and rope. It was necessary not just for safety, but because Lin Chen had a secret weapon he needed to administer.
*System, prepare the Genetic Stability Serum.*
**[Item: Genetic Stability Serum (x1).]**
**[Function: Stabilizes dominant genes during conception. Ensures offspring inherits superior traits (Brahman/Angus) over recessive local traits.]**
**[Note: Must be administered to the mother via injection immediately before breeding.]**
Lin Chen felt the weight of the small glass vial in his pocket. This was the moment. If this worked, Hope's calf wouldn't just be a slightly better local cow. It would be the first true beef cattle of this world.
"Let's build," Lin Chen said.
***
The construction took the entire morning. They used the thickest pine logs they had, sinking them four feet into the ground. The crossbeams were lashed with iron nails and reinforced ropes.
Dahu and Er-Leng watched Lin Chen work with a new kind of respect. The Scholar wasn't just directing anymore; he was sawing, hammering, and measuring alongside them. His hands were blistered and scarred, no different from theirs.
"The belly band needs to be loose enough for comfort, but tight enough to catch her instantly," Lin Chen instructed, threading the thick leather strap they had tanned from the wild boar hide.
By noon, the chute stood ready in the center of the yard. It looked like a stockade, a heavy, imposing structure.
"Now comes the hard part," Lin Chen said, wiping sweat from his brow. "We need to get Hope inside."
Hope, however, had other ideas. The yellow cow had become accustomed to a life of leisure and recovery. She looked at the dark, narrow chute and refused to budge, planting her hooves firmly in the mud.
"She's stubborn," Zhao Hu grunted, pushing her rump. "Like a mule."
"Don't force her," Lin Chen said. He walked to her head. He didn't pull. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple he had saved from the winter stores. It was withered and soft, but to a cow, it was candy.
"Come on, girl," Lin Chen whispered, stepping into the chute backwards. "Look. It's safe. Just a little walk."
Hope snorted, eyeing the apple. She took a step. Then another.
Lin Chen led her slowly, the apple held just out of reach. When her head was fully inside the chute, Zhao Hu and Dahu quickly closed the front gate and secured the rear bar.
Hope panicked for a moment, bumping the sides.
"Easy!" Lin Chen stroked her neck. He reached for the belly strap, buckling it firmly under her abdomen. "Just relax."
Now came the critical moment.
Lin Chen looked at Zhao Hu. "Open the gate to Tie Shan's pen."
The heavy wooden gate creaked open.
Tie Shan lifted his head. He smelled the pheromones. The massive bull let out a low, rumbling bellow that shook the air. He stepped out of the mud, his muscles rippling under his grey hide.
"Dahu, stand back!" Lin Chen ordered. "Er-Leng, have the fire extinguisher ready!" (A bucket of sand and water, their primitive version).
Tie Shan didn't run. He walked with a predatory grace, circling the chute. He sniffed the air, snorting. He approached Hope.
Hope froze, unable to move within the chute, but the heavy strap held her steady.
Tie Shan tested the structure. He bumped it with his shoulder. The logs groaned, but held.
"Now," Lin Chen muttered. He quickly pulled the syringe from his pocket. While Hope was distracted by the massive bull behind her, Lin Chen slid the needle into the muscle of her neck and depressed the plunger.
**[Genetic Stability Serum Administered.]**
**[Status: Active. Countdown: 5 minutes.]**
"Come on, big guy," Lin Chen whispered, stepping back and climbing onto the fence to watch.
Nature took its course. Tie Shan, driven by instinct, mounted the chute. The wooden frame creaked loudly, straining under the nearly ton-weight of the bull. The belly strap tightened, lifting Hope slightly, protecting her spine from the crushing weight.
It was a primal, violent, yet necessary act. The frame held. The ropes held.
Minutes later, Tie Shan dismounted, snorting steam into the cold air. He looked satisfied, turning to walk back towards his water trough.
Hope stood trembling in the chute, but she was uninjured. The structure had done its job.
Lin Chen exhaled, his lungs burning. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath.
"Did... did it work?" Lin Mu asked from the doorway of the hut, where he had been watching with wide eyes.
"We won't know for a few weeks," Lin Chen said, jumping down from the fence. He checked the strap, unbuckling it. "But the physical act is done. Now we wait for the miracle."
***
The atmosphere that evening was solemn but hopeful. The fire in the hut crackled, warming the cold dampness of the spring night.
Lin Chen sat at the table, staring at the empty vial of serum.
*System, confirm conception probability.*
**[Analysis Complete.]
[Subject: Hope (Yellow Cow).]
[Status: Fertilization Successful (99.9% Probability).]
[Gestation Period: 283 Days.]
[Offspring Prediction: Male Calf.]
[Traits: Brahman Hump (Recessive expression suppressed by Serum), Angus Marbling potential (Latent), Local Adaptability.]**
It was done. In ten months, the first calf of the new breed would be born.
But the good news was tempered by the reality of their situation.
Lin Mu placed a bowl of thin porridge on the table. There was no meat tonight. The jerky was sold, and they were saving the remaining stores for the animals.
"Brother," Lin Mu said quietly. "The ledger. We have less than one tael of silver left. The coal is almost gone. And... we need to buy seed for the spring planting. If we want to grow the ryegrass and alfalfa, we need to buy the seeds from the Prefecture."
Lin Chen rubbed his temples. The serum had been a one-time reward. The bull had cost five taels. The jerky profit was gone.
They were broke.
"We have assets," Lin Chen said, trying to sound confident. "We have the herd. We have the bull. But cash flow... cash flow is the killer."
He looked at the hide of the wild boar, tanning in the corner. He looked at the small pile of wool they had sheared from the sheep.
"We need a big sale," Lin Chen said. "Not jerky. Something high value. But what?"
"The bull?" Zhao Hu suggested.
"Never," Lin Chen said instantly. "He is the engine of this ranch. We sell him, we go back to being peasants."
"The wool?" Dahu asked. "The village women spin it, but it's cheap."
"Raw wool is cheap," Lin Chen agreed. "Processed wool... blankets... but we don't have the time or the skills."
He stood up and paced. The ranch was technically thriving, but economically, it was on a knife's edge.
"Tomorrow," Lin Chen decided. "I go to the Prefecture City. Not the county seat. The Prefecture. I need to find a high-end buyer. A restaurant, a noble house, someone who pays for *quality*. I will take samples of the jerky, and I will take a sample of... something else."
He looked at the small jar of rendered fat on the shelf. It was tallow, mixed with herbs. It had healing properties for dry skin and chapped hands—a common ailment in the winter.
"I'll take the 'Mountain Balm'," Lin Chen said. "And I'll see if I can find a merchant who wants more than just cheap meat."
***
The next morning, the road to the Prefecture City was long and arduous. Lin Chen took Dahu and the donkey cart. They left early, the mist still clinging to the ground.
They arrived at the massive walls of the Prefecture City by midday. It was ten times the size of the county seat. The gates were heavily guarded, and the traffic was dense.
Lin Chen paid the entrance tax—ten copper coins, a steep price for a peasant.
Inside, the city was a riot of color and noise. Silk shops, tea houses, brothels, and jewelry stores lined the paved streets. This was where the real money flowed.
Lin Chen didn't go to the livestock market. He went to the "Medicine Street," a row of shops selling herbs and remedies. He stopped in front of a respectable establishment called "Benevolent Hall."
"Wait here," he told Dahu.
He walked in. The smell of ginseng and antler filled the air. A clerk looked him up and down, eyeing his muddy boots.
"We don't buy beggar's herbs," the clerk said dismissively.
"I'm not selling herbs," Lin Chen said, placing the jar of tallow balm on the counter. "I'm selling a cure for winter rot. For soldiers, for farmers. Try it."
The clerk sneered, but an older man behind the counter—the shopkeeper—looked up. "Let me see."
He opened the jar. He smelled the herbs—the rare mountain pepper and the pine resin. He dipped a finger in and rubbed it on his dry, cracked knuckles.
Almost instantly, the cooling, soothing sensation took effect.
"This... this is good," the shopkeeper admitted. " base is beef tallow, but the herbal infusion is professional. Who made this?"
"I did," Lin Chen said. "I have the recipe. I can supply fifty jars a month."
The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes. "Five copper coins a jar."
"Fifteen," Lin Chen countered. "Or I walk to the shop next door."
The shopkeeper chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain, young master. Ten. And I'll take twenty jars now, if you have them."
"Deal," Lin Chen said. "But I need payment now."
He didn't have twenty jars. He only had five. But he had a deposit.
"I have five now. The rest in ten days."
He walked out of the shop with fifty copper coins. Not a fortune, but enough to buy the grass seeds.
As he walked back to the cart, he saw a commotion near a grand restaurant called "The Immortal Feast." A porter had dropped a crate of chickens, and they were squawking everywhere.
A man in fine silk robes stepped out of the restaurant, holding a handkerchief to his nose, looking disgusted.
"Filthy birds," the man sneered. "I want beef! Real beef! Not the tough, stringy leather you call meat! If I cannot find a tender steak for my master's banquet tonight, I will have this place shut down!"
Lin Chen stopped.
Beef. Tender steak.
He remembered the **[Wagyu]** traits in his system bank. He didn't have them yet, but he had the knowledge of how to prepare meat to *taste* tender.
He walked up to the silk-clad man.
"Excuse me," Lin Chen said, bowing. "I could not help but overhear. You seek tender beef?"
The man looked down at him. "Who are you? A farmer? Don't waste my time. The city butchers have nothing but old oxen."
"I am not a city butcher," Lin Chen said. "I am a Rancher. I raise my cattle on the mountain. I have... methods."
"Methods?"
"I have meat," Lin Chen lied. He didn't have beef ready to slaughter. But he had the bull... no, he couldn't kill Tie Shan.
Wait. The wild boar.
"I have wild mountain meat," Lin Chen corrected. "Boar. But treated with a special technique to make it tender as fish. If your master wants a dish that has never been tasted in this city, give me a chance."
The man sneered. "Boar? It smells like gamey sweat."
"Not mine," Lin Chen said confidently. "Meet me at the North Gate in two hours. I will bring a sample."
The man hesitated, then waved his hand. "Fine. Two hours. If it's tough, I'll have the guards beat you."
Lin Chen bowed and turned back to Dahu.
"Dahu, run back to the cart. We need the pot, the soy sauce we bought, and the ginger. We are going to cook."
"Cook? Here? On the street?"
"No," Lin Chen said, his eyes shining. "We are going to cook our way into the elite."
He had no money, no beef, and a herd of animals that were currently eating his last reserves. But he had a client who wanted something the market couldn't provide.
He would improvise. He had to. The ranch was counting on it.