The heatwave persisted, pressing down on Willow Village like a heavy hand. The river level dropped, revealing cracked mud banks that hadn't seen the sun in years. For the farmers, every drop of water was worth a drop of sweat.
But on the West Slope, the word "drought" was becoming irrelevant.
Li Wei stood in the main workshop of the ranch—a converted storage shed that now smelled of wet clay and kiln smoke. He was holding a section of baked clay pipe, about two feet long. It was rough, reddish-brown, and unglazed.
"Tap it," Li Wei told Da Niu.
Da Niu tapped it with a wooden mallet. *Thud.* A dull, solid sound.
"Good," Li Wei nodded. "Now, plug one end with the wooden stopper. And take the awl."
Da Niu plugged the end. He took a sharp iron awl and, following Li Wei's instructions, carefully twisted it into the side of the pipe near the bottom, creating a tiny hole no bigger than a grain of rice.
"Perfect," Li Wei said. "This is the 'vein'. The water flows through the main line, and gravity forces it out through this hole. Not a splash, not a gush. Just a drip. One drop at a time, right at the roots of the grass."
"It seems too slow," Da Niu admitted, wiping soot from his forehead. "The sprinklers work faster."
"The sprinklers waste water to evaporation," Li Wei explained, arranging the pipes in a line. "This is precision. The water goes straight into the soil. It stays moist for hours with a fraction of the water. We can irrigate three times the area with the same reservoir."
He stood up. The workshop was filled with hundreds of these pipes. He had hired the village potters—usually idle during the summer farming lull—to mass-produce them based on his molds.
"Load them up," Li Wei ordered. "We're installing the first line in the Gen II pasture today. We're going to turn this hill into a sponge that never dries out."
***
**The Dairy Revolution**
While the men laid the clay veins in the pasture, the women of the Li family were fighting their own battle against the heat in the kitchen.
Milk was the enemy in summer. It soured in hours. The yogurt was selling well, but the demand from the Magistrate's kitchen had tripled, and they needed a product that could survive the journey to the town without spoiling.
Li Hua stood over a large wooden churn, rhythmically pushing the plunger up and down. *Swish, splash. Swish, splash.*
"How long do we have to do this?" she groaned, her arms aching. "It's just cream turning into… more cream."
"It's separating," Li Mei corrected, wiping her brow with a clean cloth. She was monitoring the temperature of the cool cellar. "Third Brother said patience is the secret ingredient."
Li Wei walked in, dusty from the fields. He checked the churn.
"Stop," he said. "Let it rest."
He peered inside. The cream had thickened into a pale yellow mass, floating in thin, milky liquid (buttermilk).
"It worked," Li Wei smiled. He scooped the yellow mass into a fine cheesecloth and squeezed it tight, removing the last of the liquid. He then placed it in a wooden mold carved with the Cloud Hill brand—a simple cloud shape.
"Salt it heavily," Li Wei instructed. "And press it under a heavy stone for two hours."
"What is it?" Mother Zhao Lan asked, peering over his shoulder.
"Butter," Li Wei said. "Fat. Pure energy. It doesn't spoil like milk. In the winter, it keeps for months. And in the town, the bakers pay a fortune for good butter to make pastries for the rich. Oil is cheap; butter is luxury."
He held up a small pat of the finished product. It was golden, firm, and smelled rich.
"Take a taste."
Mother spread a tiny bit on a piece of bread. Her eyes widened. It was creamy, salty, and melted on the tongue instantly.
"Heavenly," she whispered. "This tastes like… like the food of officials."
"Exactly," Li Wei grinned. "We sell this for ten coins a small jar. It costs us nothing but labor and milk we already have."
He turned to Hua and Mei. "This is your department now. The 'Dairy Division'. You manage the production. I want twenty jars ready for the market by Friday."
Hua looked at the golden pat, then at her aching arms. She grinned. "Twenty? We'll make fifty. I want my dowry to be in silver, not chickens."
***
**The Village Crisis**
Thursday afternoon, just as the clay pipes were being laid, a commotion rose from the lower village.
It wasn't the usual shouting of children or the barking of dogs. It was a wail. A high-pitched, mournful sound that made the hair on Li Wei's neck stand up.
He dropped his pipe and ran down the hill. Ranger bounded ahead, barking.
In the central square, a crowd had gathered. In the center, Old Man Sun was kneeling in the dust, cradling the head of his prize ox. The animal was lying on its side, legs stiff, foam bubbling from its mouth. Its eyes were rolled back, showing the whites.
"He just fell!" Old Man Sun cried, pounding the dirt. "He was drinking water and he just fell! My ox! My life!"
Li Wei pushed through the crowd. "Back up! Give him air!"
He knelt beside the ox. The animal was in convulsions.
**[System Scan: Target.]**
**[Condition: Tetanus (Lockjaw).]**
**[Cause: Deep puncture wound on hoof (likely from a rusty nail).]**
**[Status: Critical. Terminal Stage.]**
Li Wei's face fell. Tetanus was a death sentence in this era. Once the toxin reached the nervous system and the jaw locked, there was no coming back. The spasms would get worse until the animal suffocated or its back broke.
"Can you save him?" Old Man Sun grabbed Li Wei's arm, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Li Wei! You can save anything! Use your magic hands!"
Li Wei looked at the old man. He saw the despair. This ox wasn't just property; it was the engine of Sun's farm. Without it, he couldn't plow. He couldn't plant. He would starve.
"I can't cure this," Li Wei said gently but firmly. "The poison is in his nerves. It's too late."
The crowd gasped. Old Man Sun slumped, defeated.
"However," Li Wei said loudly, standing up. "We can prevent this tragedy from happening again."
He pointed to the foam. "This is 'Lockjaw'. It comes from dirty wounds. From nails in the mud. From cuts on the hooves that aren't cleaned."
He turned to Da Niu. "Bring the Magnesium Sulfate and the sedative herbs from the kit."
"You said you can't cure him," Li Jun whispered.
"I can't cure him," Li Wei replied softly. "But I can end his suffering. And I can harvest the meat before the toxins spread to the muscles, provided the meat is cooked thoroughly. It will be tough, but it will feed his family. But first, we need to clean up this village."
He prepared a strong sedative. He administered it quickly. The ox's spasms slowed, and then the animal fell into a deep sleep, passing away peacefully shortly after.
It was a grim task, but Li Wei directed the butchering on the spot. He showed the villagers where the infection had started—a small, blackened hole in the frog of the hoof.
"See this?" Li Wei held up the hoof. "This is why we check the hooves. This is why we clean the pens. This is why the co-op contract says 'Hygiene First'."
He looked at the silent crowd. The death of the ox was a shock, but Li Wei's handling of it—turning a tragic waste into food and a lesson—was a display of leadership.
"Old Man Sun," Li Wei said, handing him a share of the preserved meat and a pouch of coins (a condolence payment from the ranch's welfare fund). "Come to the ranch tomorrow. We have a spare ox from the finishing program. I'll lease him to you for the season. You can pay me back with the calf in the spring."
Old Man Sun looked up, stunned. "Lease? But… but I have no money now."
"Pay me when the harvest comes," Li Wei said. "I need a strong neighbor, not a starving one."
The tension in the square broke. The villagers looked at Li Wei not just as a successful businessman, but as a protector.
"He's a good boy," Auntie Wang whispered, wiping her eyes. "A good boy."
***
**The Midnight Letter**
That night, Li Wei sat in his office, the ledger open before him. The day had been draining. The cost of the clay pipes, the condolence payment to Old Man Sun, the lease of the ox—it was a hit to the cash flow.
But he had secured the loyalty of the village. And the butter experiment was a success.
Ranger scratched at the door.
Li Wei opened it to find the runner again. This time, the man looked excited.
"Li Wei! A fast messenger from the Capital! It's from the General's staff!"
Li Wei took the sealed scroll. He broke the wax—a military crest.
He read it quickly.
*To Li Wei of Cloud Hill Ranch,*
*The Imperial Kitchen has accepted the sample of beef sent by Scholar Li. The Head Eunuch remarks that the marbling is "like snow on red jade".*
*However, the Palace requires a specific tribute for the upcoming Mid-Autumn Festival. They wish to commission a "Moonlight Banquet". Ten head of your finest cattle, delivered live to the Capital, to be slaughtered in the Imperial Butchery.*
*Payment: 200 Taels of Silver (Half advance).*
*The catch: The cattle must arrive within 40 days. The roads are dangerous. Bandit activity has increased due to the drought. The escort provided will be minimal due to border tensions. You must provide your own security.*
*Signed,*
*General Teng.*
Li Wei stared at the letter. 200 Taels. That was a king's ransom. It was enough to pay for Chen's entire career, expand the ranch ten times over, and buy the title of a low-level noble.
But the risk.
Forty days. A thousand miles. With bandits swarming.
And he only had minimal finished cattle ready right now. He needed to finish ten more in forty days.
He looked at the calendar.
"System," Li Wei thought. "Calculate feasibility."
**[Quest Generated: The Imperial Tribute.]**
**[Objective: Deliver 10 Prime Cattle to Capital.]**
**[Time Limit: 40 Days.]**
**[Risk Assessment: Extreme.]**
**[Reward: 200 Taels + Royal Supplier Title.]**
Li Wei stood up. He walked to the window and looked out at the sleeping ranch.
The clay pipes were laid. The butter was churned. The walls were built.
He had been defending. He had been building. Now, he had to attack.
"We're going to the Capital," Li Wei whispered to the night. "And we're taking the herd with us."
He turned to the sleeping Da Niu in the next room.
"Wake up!" Li Wei shouted, clapping his hands. "We have work to do! Wake the village! We're going to war!"