The headman's courtyard smelled of old wood and tea leaves.
Lin Yan noticed it immediately—not because it was pleasant, but because it was stable. The same smell it had carried since his childhood in this body. No wealth. No decay. Just continuity.
The headman, Old Zhou, sat behind a low table, hands wrapped around a chipped cup. His hair had thinned into a soft white halo, but his eyes were still sharp.
"You're early," Old Zhou said.
"So is the trouble," Lin Yan replied, taking a seat opposite him.
They shared a brief smile.
"I heard about the south market merchant," Old Zhou said. "Xu Wen."
Lin Yan nodded. "He won't be the last."
Old Zhou took a slow sip. "No. Roads invite feet."
Lin Yan laid out his charcoal map on the table.
Old Zhou leaned forward.
The lines were crude but thoughtful—pasture routes, low ground, high ridges, seasonal streams marked with small slashes. The village sat like a knot near the center.
"You're thinking ahead," Old Zhou murmured.
"I have to," Lin Yan said. "If we wait, others will think for us."
Old Zhou's finger tapped a spot just west of the village. "Here. This path—why not let carts through here instead?"
"Because it cuts the barley fields," Lin Yan said. "And because that slope turns to mud in autumn."
Old Zhou grunted. "True."
Silence settled.
Then the headman sighed. "The village is nervous."
"I know."
"They see animals growing fat. Houses improving. They worry you'll forget where you came from."
Lin Yan met his gaze steadily. "I won't. But I can't move at their pace anymore."
Old Zhou studied him for a long moment.
"You want permission," Old Zhou said finally.
"I want acknowledgment," Lin Yan corrected. "If I build something that affects the village, I don't want it called theft later."
Old Zhou chuckled. "Smart boy."
He straightened. "What do you propose?"
Lin Yan didn't hesitate.
"A controlled road," he said. "One route. Reinforced. Maintained by us. Anyone who uses it pays a fee—small for villagers, higher for merchants."
"And the village?" Old Zhou asked.
"Gets a share," Lin Yan said. "For public repairs. Wells. Tools."
Old Zhou raised an eyebrow. "You're asking them to trust you with coin."
"I'm asking them to trust me with structure," Lin Yan replied.
The headman considered.
"Very well," Old Zhou said at last. "Call a meeting. We'll speak openly."
The meeting drew more people than Lin Yan expected.
Not just villagers.
A family from the eastern fields arrived early.
The Hu family.
They were not poor.
Not rich either—but land-rich, with sons and hired hands. Their eldest, Hu Sheng, stood tall near the front, arms crossed, expression polite but cool.
Gu Han leaned toward Lin Yan. "They've been talking."
"I know," Lin Yan murmured.
Old Zhou opened the meeting.
Lin Yan spoke plainly—no grand speeches, no promises of sudden wealth. Just what he planned to build, how it would work, and what it would cost.
When he finished, murmurs rippled.
Then Hu Sheng stepped forward.
"A road is a public thing," Hu Sheng said. "Built on shared land."
Lin Yan nodded. "Which is why I'm asking, not declaring."
Hu Sheng smiled thinly. "And once built, who controls it?"
"The one who maintains it," Lin Yan said. "With oversight."
"Whose?" Hu Sheng asked.
"The village's," Lin Yan replied.
Hu Sheng laughed softly. "Words are cheap."
Lin Yan met his gaze. "So is neglect."
The air tightened.
Hu Sheng folded his arms. "Merchants came to us too."
That drew gasps.
"They offered silver," Hu Sheng continued. "For access. Without fees. Without control."
Old Zhou's eyes sharpened. "And you refused?"
Hu Sheng shrugged. "We listened."
Lin Yan exhaled slowly.
Here it was.
"If carts go through your fields," Lin Yan said calmly, "they'll pay once. If they go through mine, they'll pay every time."
Hu Sheng scoffed. "You think you can enforce that?"
"I think I can document it," Lin Yan replied. "And once something is written, officials get interested."
That hit home.
Hu Sheng's smile vanished.
"So this is a threat?" Hu Sheng said.
"It's a warning," Lin Yan corrected. "To everyone."
Silence fell.
Then an unexpected voice spoke.
Lin Yan's father.
"We've lived poor," he said, voice rough but steady. "We know what broken land means. If this road breaks our fields, we all lose."
The crowd shifted.
The old hunter nodded.
A woman whispered agreement.
Old Zhou raised his hand. "Enough."
He looked at Hu Sheng. "Do you intend to build this road?"
Hu Sheng hesitated.
Old Zhou turned to Lin Yan. "Do you?"
"Yes," Lin Yan said.
Old Zhou nodded. "Then the village will decide based on action, not talk."
He struck the ground with his cane once.
"The Lin family may build a reinforced route," Old Zhou declared. "Fees to be recorded. Maintenance to be shared. Profits—" he paused "—to contribute to village needs."
It wasn't full approval.
But it was permission.
That night, Gu Han sat with Lin Yan under the stars.
"They'll push back," Gu Han said. "Hu Sheng won't let this go."
"I don't expect him to," Lin Yan replied.
"You're drawing lines."
"Yes."
Gu Han smiled faintly. "You're becoming someone."
Lin Yan looked at the pasture, at the quiet breathing of cattle and sheep.
"I was always someone," he said. "I just didn't have ground to stand on."
The system panel appeared, brighter than before.
[Infrastructure Branch: Unlocked (Basic)]
[New Project Available: Reinforced Dirt Road (Prototype)]
[Requirements: Labor x20 | Timber x30 | Stone x15]
Lin Yan closed it.
Tomorrow, he would start gathering people.
Not as laborers.
As partners.