The mud left by the Plum Rains began to dry, cracking into a mosaic of hard, uneven plates. The sun, no longer a pale, distant coin, beat down with a fervent heat that promised a sweltering summer.
Lin Chen stood in the yard, shirtless, his skin tanning to a deep bronze under the harsh light. In his hand, he held the iron rod he had forged weeks ago—the "Peak Brand." It was simple, geometric, and stark: a triangle representing the mountain, with a line cutting through it.
Today was the day of the Mark.
"We cannot sell them without it," Lin Chen said, thrusting the iron into the bed of glowing charcoal in the portable forge Dahu was pumping. "And we cannot keep them safe without it. In this world, a man's word is wind, but a burned scar is law."
Zhao Hu stood by the chute, his arms crossed. He looked at Tie Shan, who was currently snorting and pacing in the isolation pen. "Branding the bull... that is a risk. He is calm now, but if you burn him, he might remember the pain. He might hold a grudge."
"He is an animal, Zhao Hu," Lin Chen said, though he respected the soldier's caution. "He respects strength. He respects dominance. If we flinch, we lose him. If we do it swiftly and cleanly, he accepts it as part of his life. Besides..."
Lin Chen checked the system interface.
**[Technique: Branding (Optimal).]**
[Placement: Left Hip.]
[Duration: 3 Seconds.]
[Aftercare: Herbal Salve (Pain relief/Healing).]
"We have the salve," Lin Chen said, pointing to the jar of aloe and herbs. "We do not torture. We mark."
They started with the cows. The two scrawny cows from Wang Da and the recovered Hope.
Lin Chen guided Hope into the crush. She was calm, trusting him. Dahu secured the gate.
"Ready?" Lin Chen asked.
The iron was red-hot, glowing with a fierce, white heat at the tip.
"Breathe," Lin Chen whispered to the cow. He positioned the iron on her left hip, finding the clean patch of skin.
*Hiss.*
A plume of acrid smoke rose, smelling of burnt hair and seared protein. Hope jerked, a low bellow escaping her throat. Dahu leaned his weight against the chute, holding her steady.
*One... Two... Three.*
Lin Chen pulled the iron away.
A clean, blackened mark remained. The Peak.
"Release," Lin Chen ordered.
Dahu opened the gate. Hope trotted out, kicking her heels slightly, clearly agitated but unharmed. She went straight to the water trough.
"Salve," Lin Chen said, grabbing the jar. He walked over to her. "Easy, girl."
He applied the cooling paste. Hope stopped fidgeting, the relief instantaneous. She turned to look at him, her eyes softening. She understood.
"Now," Lin Chen said, his voice dropping an octave. "The King."
***
Moving Tie Shan into the chute was an operation in itself. The massive grey bull sensed the tension in the air. He smelled the burnt hair. He bellowed, a sound that vibrated in Lin Chen's chest.
"Ropes!" Lin Chen signaled.
Zhao Hu and Dahu used the lassos, snagging the bull's horns from opposite sides. They pulled him into the crush with brute force. The wooden frame groaned, creaking dangerously under the strain of 1,600 pounds of muscle.
"He's pushing!" Dahu grunted, his feet sliding in the dirt.
"Hold him!" Lin Chen grabbed the branding iron. It was still hot.
Tie Shan rolled his eyes, showing the whites. He thrashed, slamming his massive shoulder against the wood. *Crack.* A splinter flew.
*Now.*
Lin Chen didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, pressing the iron onto the bull's massive hindquarters. He leaned his entire body weight into it, fighting the bull's movement.
*Hiss. Sizzle.*
Tie Shan roared. He reared up, lifting the front of the crush off the ground.
Lin Chen held the iron for the count of three, then yanked it back. "Done! Let him go!"
They released the ropes and opened the gate simultaneously.
Tie Shan exploded out of the chute. He didn't run. He spun around, his hooves tearing up the earth. He lowered his horns, fixing Lin Chen with a glare that promised murder.
Lin Chen stood his ground. He didn't run. He held the branding iron, still smoking, in one hand, and the jar of salve in the other.
"I am not your enemy," Lin Chen said, his voice cutting through the bull's rage. "But I am your master."
He slowly opened the salve jar. The scent of herbs drifted towards the bull.
Tie Shan snorted. The pain in his hip was throbbing, but the smell was familiar. It was the smell of the vet, the smell of the man who had fed him when he was starving.
He pawed the ground, tearing a furrow in the mud.
"Let me help you," Lin Chen said. He took a step forward.
Zhao Hu hissed, "Lin Chen! Back!"
Lin Chen ignored him. He walked up to the bull. Tie Shan could kill him with a single toss of his head. Lin Chen reached out, not with the iron, but with the cool, medicated paste.
He slapped the salve onto the fresh brand.
Tie Shan flinched, shuddering. But he didn't strike. The cooling sensation flooded the burn. The fire turned to ice.
The bull exhaled, a long, shuddering breath. He shook his head, the aggression draining out of him, replaced by confusion and relief. He turned and walked slowly to the water trough, leaving Lin Chen standing in the yard, heart pounding like a drum.
"A madman," Zhao Hu whispered, wiping sweat from his brow. "You are a complete madman."
"I am a Rancher," Lin Chen corrected, though his hands were trembling. "And now... they are branded. If they wander, if they are stolen, the world knows they belong to the Peak."
***
With the branding done, the immediate work of the ranch was settled. The grass was growing, the animals were marked. But the ranch was stationary.
"We need mobility," Lin Chen said later that afternoon. They were eating lunch under the eaves. "Old Grey is strong, but he is a donkey. He cannot patrol the boundary lines quickly. He cannot carry a man for a full day's ride. I need a horse."
"Horses are expensive," Lin Mu reminded him, chewing on a piece of dried meat. "Good ones cost fifty taels. Even a broken one is twenty."
"We have money from the jerky and the balm," Lin Chen said. "And I have a contract with the Prefecture. I need to make a delivery, and I need to do it in style. I need to show The Immortal Feast that the Peak Brand is professional."
He stood up. "I'm going to the horse market in the Prefecture. Zhao Hu, you're with me. Dahu, watch the ranch."
***
The Prefecture horse market was located on the western edge of the city, a sprawling enclosure of dust and manure. It was filled with the whinnies of horses and the shouts of traders.
Lin Chen walked through the rows, his bamboo hat casting a shadow over his face. He wasn't looking for the glossy, well-groomed steeds that nobles rode. He couldn't afford them.
He was looking for the "problem" horses. The ones with spirit that had been beaten into aggression, or the ones with scars that hid a good heart.
He stopped at a pen near the back. A group of men were gathered around, jeering.
"Look at her! She's crazy!"
"She threw the trainer! Broke his arm!"
"She's a man-eater! Send her to the glue boiler!"
In the center of the ring, a young mare was rearing. She was a chestnut color, a deep, burnished red like autumn leaves. She had a white blaze on her face and four white socks. She was beautiful, but she was terrified.
Her eyes were wild, rolling white. She was lathered in sweat. A man with a whip was snapping it near her ears, trying to force her into a corner.
"Stand down, beast!" the trader shouted, cracking the whip.
The mare screamed, a high-pitched sound of panic, and lashed out with her hind legs, missing the man by inches.
"Easy," Lin Chen whispered.
**[System Analysis: Equine (Mare).]
[Age: 4 years.]
[Breed: Mixed Mongolian/Steppe.]
[Status: 'Cold' backed. Traumatic response to force.]
[Temperament: High Intelligence, High Sensitivity.]
[Potential: Elite Endurance/Speed. Requires 'Soft' handling.]**
"Cold backed," Lin Chen murmured. It meant she had sensitive nerves along her spine. Rough riding or a poor saddle had likely caused her pain, and she associated the rider with agony. The whip was making it worse.
"She is not crazy," Lin Chen said, stepping up to the railing. "She is in pain."
The trader turned, sneering. "Oh? A scholar thinks he knows horses? You want to try your luck, Master? She'll crush your skull."
"How much?" Lin Chen asked.
"Fifteen taels," the trader laughed. "She's worthless for work. But if you want to die, I won't stop you."
"I'll give you ten," Lin Chen said. "And I will show you how to handle a lady."
"Ten? Fine! If you can get a saddle on her, she's yours! If she kills you, I keep the money!"
Lin Chen handed the money to Zhao Hu. He climbed the fence, but he didn't jump in. He just sat on the top rail.
He didn't look at the horse. He looked at the sky. He hummed a low, tuneless melody.
The mare, expecting a whip or a rope, paused. She snorted, watching this strange, calm human.
Lin Chen slowly took off his bamboo hat. He placed it on the fence. He showed her his hands—empty.
"No whip," he said softly.
He dropped into the pen. The mare spun around, presenting her hindquarters, ready to kick.
Lin Chen didn't approach her. He walked to the corner and stood with his back to her. He ignored her.
This confused the horse. Predators chased. They stared. They didn't turn their backs.
Curiosity, the enemy of fear, began to creep in. The mare turned her head, sniffing the air.
Lin Chen backed up slowly, not looking at her. He extended his hand back, fingers loose.
*System Skill: Horse Whisperer (Passive).*
He felt the hot breath on his palm.
"Good girl," he whispered.
He didn't grab her. He just let her smell him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a withered apple he had saved.
He placed it on the ground near his feet and stepped back.
The mare snatched the apple, crunching it loudly.
The crowd was silent. The trader's jaw had dropped.
Lin Chen moved to her side. He ran his hand down her neck. She flinched, her skin twitching.
"You're hurting," he said. "The saddle was bad. I know."
He leaned against her shoulder, establishing a connection. He pressed gently, asking her to move over. She shifted her weight.
"I'm going to get on you," he whispered. "But not with a saddle. Not today. Just me."
He vaulted onto her bare back in one fluid motion.
The mare froze. She tensed, ready to buck. But Lin Chen didn't kick her. He didn't pull her hair. He leaned forward, draping his arms around her neck, hugging her. He pressed his chest against her back, warming the sensitive spine.
"Walk," he murmured, squeezing gently with his thighs.
The chestnut mare took a step. Then another. She didn't buck. She didn't rear. She walked calmly around the pen, carrying the strange scholar who hugged her instead of hitting her.
Lin Chen looked down at the trader.
"She is mine," Lin Chen said. "And her name is *Flame*."
***
They rode out of the Prefecture city gate an hour later. Lin Chen rode bareback on Flame, guiding her with a simple rope around her neck. The horse moved with a floating, elegant gait, her ears pricked forward, alert and happy. She had found a rider who understood her.
Zhao Hu followed on the cart, shaking his head in amazement.
"You have a talent for the broken ones," Zhao Hu said. "The bull, the cow, the dogs, now the horse."
"They aren't broken," Lin Chen said, patting Flame's neck, feeling the powerful muscles ripple beneath him. "They were just waiting for someone to listen. Now..."
He looked at the road ahead. The sun was setting, casting long shadows. He was riding a horse he had bought for ten taels, a horse worth fifty if she stayed sane.
"Now, we ride," Lin Chen smiled. "And the ranch has legs."
**[New Asset: Flame (Chestnut Mare).]**
**[Skill Unlocked: Bareback Riding (Lv. 1).]**
**[Mission Update: Establish Patrol Routes.]**
The "Peak Brand" was no longer just a mark on a hide. It was a flag, flying from the back of a galloping horse.