Seven days passed in a blur of sweat, splinters, and sore muscles.
The Westland, once a silent expanse of yellow grass, now rang with the rhythmic sound of chopping wood and the lowing of cattle. The "fortress" Li Wei had envisioned was slowly taking shape. It wasn't a fortress of stone, but of bamboo and determination.
Chen Hu had proven to be worth his weight in gold. The former soldier had not only dug pit traps around the perimeter with the precision of a military engineer but had also helped Li Wei construct a sturdy, three-sided shelter using the bamboo Li Wei had purchased. It was a simple structure—open to the south to catch the winter sun, with high rafters to let the heat escape in summer—but to the weary cattle, it was a palace.
Li Wei stood by the creek, washing his face in the cold water. He looked at his reflection. The soft, pale scholar was disappearing. In his place was a man with tanned skin, hair tied back roughly with a strip of leather, and eyes that scanned the horizon with a predator's alertness.
"Boss," Chen Hu called out, approaching with a heavy iron object in his hand. "The blacksmith in town finished it. Cost us two hundred copper coins, but it's solid."
Li Wei took the object. It was a branding iron. At the end of the rod was a simple, bold design: a circle with a vertical line cutting through it, intersected by two diagonal slashes.
**The Westland Brand.**
It looked like a rudimentary 'W' wrapped in a rising sun. It was a symbol of ownership, of identity. In this world, branding was reserved for the military or government herds. Private farmers rarely bothered, relying on ear notches or rope colors. But Li Wei knew better. In the vast open ranges of his dreams, a brand was the only law.
"Good work," Li Wei said, weighing the iron. "Today, we mark the herd."
Li Sheng, who was carrying a bucket of water, paused. "Brother, are you going to burn the cows? Won't that hurt them? It seems... cruel."
"It hurts less than a wolf bite, Sheng," Li Wei said sternly. "And it hurts less than being stolen. If these cattle wander into a neighbor's field, or if bandits come, that mark tells the world they belong to us. It is their armor."
He walked toward the makeshift corral. The herd was looking better. The daily grazing on the hidden clover and the fresh water had put a shine on their coats. Even the 'General', the Black Bull, looked less like a skeleton and more like a tank.
"We'll start with the cows," Li Wei ordered. "Chen Hu, bring the fire to a white heat. Sheng, you hold the rope. Keep it tight. If they pull, you fall."
Li Wei grabbed a long rope, forming a makeshift lasso. He had practiced this in his mind a thousand times, watching videos of Montana cowboys. The reality was harder. The rope was heavier, the timing trickier.
He stepped into the corral. The cows shuffled nervously.
With a flick of his wrist, he threw the loop. It sailed through the air and settled perfectly around the neck of a sandy-colored cow.
"Got it!" Li Wei shouted, surprised by his own success. "Pull, Sheng!"
The cow panicked, bucking and kicking up dust. Li Wei held the rope, his boots digging into the dirt. The raw power of the animal was shocking, vibrating through the rope and into his shoulders.
"Easy! Easy!" Li Wei commanded, wrapping the rope around a sturdy bamboo post to take the strain.
He approached the cow from the side. She was terrified. Li Wei placed a hand on her flank, feeling the tremors.
"It's alright, girl," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, rhythmic hum. It was a tune he remembered from an old country song his father used to play. *"Don't fence me in..."*
The cow stilled, confused by the noise.
Chen Hu approached with the branding iron, the tip glowing cherry-red.
"Hold her head," Li Wei said.
*HISSSSSSSS.*
The smell of singed hair and burning hide filled the air. The cow bellowed, a low, mournful sound, and jerked violently. But Li Wei held firm, pressing his weight against her until the job was done.
When he released her, she ran to the far corner of the pen, nursing a new, raw scar on her hip. The circle and the line. The Westland Brand.
"One down," Li Wei panted, wiping sweat from his eyes. "Nine cows, the bull, and the horses to go."
It was brutal work. By midday, Li Wei's arms were jelly, and his hands were blistered. Even Chen Hu looked tired. But as they stood over the herd, now marked, a sense of accomplishment settled over them. They weren't just scavengers anymore. They were ranchers.
"Boss," Chen Hu said, pointing toward the road. "Visitors."
Li Wei squinted through the heat haze. A carriage was bouncing along the rough dirt track leading to the Westland. It was a sleek, black carriage with the Zhao family crest on the side.
"Sheng, go wash your face," Li Wei said quickly. "That's your sister-in-law."
Li Wei quickly adjusted his robe, trying to tuck the shredded sleeves out of sight. He had just succeeded in looking like a beggar; he didn't need his wife seeing him quite so disheveled, though he knew it was futile.
The carriage stopped at the edge of the bamboo fence. A servant jumped down and placed a wooden stepping stool. A delicate foot in embroidered silk shoes stepped out, followed by the swishing of green robes.
Zhao Qingyu stood before the ranch.
She looked around, her expression unreadable. She took in the crude bamboo fence, the piles of manure, the smell of the branding fire, and the scrawny, marked cattle huddled in the corner.
Li Wei walked over, wiping his hands on a rag. "Wife. This is a surprise. Did you come to collect the debt early?"
Zhao Qingyu looked at him. Her eyes traced the dirt on his face, the grime under his nails, and the raw calluses on his palms.
"I came to see if you were dead," she said coolly, though her voice lacked its usual bite. "Father asked for a report on the... investment. He didn't trust a written letter."
"The investment is alive and kicking," Li Wei said, gesturing to the herd. "As you can see."
She walked toward the fence. The animals looked up at her with large, liquid eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the fresh brand.
"You branded them?" she asked, surprised. "That iron... I designed it?"
"I forged it," Li Wei corrected. "Or rather, I paid a blacksmith to forge my design. It is the mark of the Westland Ranch."
"A ranch?" She turned the word over in her mouth. It was a foreign concept. In the Great Liang, men had farms. They had estates. "Ranch" sounded barbaric.
She looked at the Black Bull, 'General', who was watching her from the shade of the new shelter. Despite his still-thin frame, the bull carried an air of majesty.
"That beast," she pointed. "He looks dangerous."
"He is," Li Wei admitted. "He fought off wolves two nights ago. Saved the herd."
Zhao Qingyu froze. "Wolves? There are wolves here?"
"This is the frontier, Wife. The Westland is wild. But we handled it." Li Wei pointed to the wolf pelt, which was now tanned and draped over a log near the fire pit. "That is our trophy."
Zhao Qingyu looked at the pelt. It was rough, hastily skinned, but the ferocious head was still intact. She looked back at Li Wei, really looking at him this time. Not the useless scholar, but the man who stood in the dust with a branding iron.
"You killed a wolf?" she asked skeptically.
"The bull killed it. We finished it," Li Wei said honestly. "I am a cattleman, not a warrior. Chen Hu is the warrior."
He called Chen Hu over. The big man limped forward, bowing low to the lady of the house.
"My Lady."
Zhao Qingyu nodded, assessing the soldier. "You hired a cripple?"
"I hired a man who knows how to dig a pit trap and swing an axe," Li Wei said, his voice hardening slightly. "A man's worth isn't in his leg, but in his loyalty."
Zhao Qingyu's eyes softened for a fraction of a second. She understood being judged. As a woman managing accounts, she was constantly doubted by the male merchants.
"You have built a shelter," she observed, changing the subject. She walked along the bamboo fence. "It is... ugly. But sturdy."
"It keeps the wind out. We are preparing for winter," Li Wei said. He gestured to the land. "This land is full of hidden riches, Qingyu. The grass here, once you clear the scrub, is sweet. The cattle are gaining weight already. Give me a year, and these scrawny cows will be the envy of the county."
Qingyu stopped. She looked at the dusty ground, then at the sweating man before her.
"You are... different," she said quietly. It was almost an accusation.
"I am doing what I was born to do," Li Wei replied. "I was never a scholar. I was never a bureaucrat. I am a man of the soil. I just didn't know it until now."
A long silence stretched between them. The wind rustled the bamboo leaves.
"Father sent you food," Qingyu said abruptly, turning back to the carriage. "And wine. He said... he said to keep warm."
She signaled the servant, who brought out two large hampers. They smelled of roast chicken and steamed buns.
Li Wei's stomach growled loudly. The sound was jarringly human in the quiet standoff.
Qingyu's lips twitched. It wasn't a smile, but it was close.
"Also," she said, reaching into her sleeve. She pulled out a small, leather pouch. "This is for the branding iron."
"I already paid for it."
"This is for the design," she said, tossing the pouch to him. He caught it. It was heavy. Silver. "If this... ranch... truly becomes something, that brand will be the face of the family. A good merchant knows to invest in their logo."
She turned to leave, her movements graceful and swift.
"Wait," Li Wei called out.
She paused, half-turning.
"Will you stay for dinner?" Li Wei asked. "We have... well, we have wolf meat soup. And roasted sweet potatoes."
The corner of her lip curled down in mild disgust. "Wolf meat? I think not. I have accounts to balance."
She stepped into the carriage.
"Li Wei."
Her voice came from the window of the carriage.
"Yes?"
"Don't let the wolves eat you. Father would be displeased at the loss of his investment."
The carriage rattled away, leaving a cloud of dust.
Li Wei stood there, holding the pouch of silver. He felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun.
"Brother!" Li Sheng ran up, eyeing the hampers of food. "Is that... roast duck? I smell five-spice powder!"
"Take it to the table, Sheng," Li Wei laughed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "We feast tonight."
He looked at the pouch in his hand. It was ten taels. A return of his investment already? No, it was a gesture. A small sign of acknowledgment.
He turned back to the corral. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the hills. The 'General' snorted, pawing the ground, demanding his evening feed.
"Alright, General," Li Wei said, walking toward the bull. "I see you. I see the empire we're going to build."
The system chimed in his head.
**[Mission Complete: Survive First Week.]**
**[Reward: Basic Veterinary Knowledge Pack (Unlocked).]**
**[New Quest: Secure Winter Feed. Stockpile 500 bundles of hay/fodder.]**
**[Time Limit: 30 Days before first snow.]**
Li Wei's face tightened. 500 bundles. It was a mountain of grass. He had a month. He looked at the retreating carriage, then at his weak arms.
"Chen Hu! Sheng! Stop drooling over the duck. We eat fast, then we cut grass until dark. Winter is coming."
The lazy son-in-law was gone. The Rancher had fully awakened.