The first egg appeared on the eighth morning after the chicks settled into the coop.
Lin Yan found it tucked into the straw, still warm.
He didn't call anyone immediately. He crouched there for a long moment, holding it carefully, as if sudden movement might break something fragile—not the shell, but the future it represented.
Livestock Status Updated:
Chickens (5)
Laying Rate: Low (Beginner Stage)
Byproduct Unlocked: Poultry Manure
Suggested Use: Soil Fertilization (+15% fertility)
A system note followed quietly.
Basic Agricultural Loop Established
Eggs meant protein.
Manure meant soil improvement.
Together, they meant sustainability—something poor farmers almost never achieved.
That afternoon, Lin Yan mixed the dried manure into the edge of his system land. The soil absorbed it greedily, darkening further.
He marked out a second plot.
Soybeans this time—nitrogen-fixing, hardy, useful for both food and rotation.
But before he could plant, news came down the village path like a cold wind.
"The county's sending inspectors."
The words spread from house to house before evening.
Grain inspection wasn't routine. It meant the county treasury was short—or the magistrate was tightening control.
Either way, small villages suffered first.
That night, Lin Yan's father sat silently by the oil lamp.
"They'll check land," he said finally. "Yields too."
Lin Yan nodded. "Sweet potatoes aren't heavily taxed."
His father didn't look reassured. "But they'll ask why."
Good harvests invited questions.
Questions invited scrutiny.
And scrutiny, in villages like Qingshui, always passed through Uncle Zhang's hands first.
Two days later, the sabotage began.
Not openly.
Subtly.
Lin Yan noticed water channels upstream had been redirected overnight. His field didn't flood—but it dried faster than usual.
At the market, sweet potato prices dropped suddenly to five copper coins.
When Lin Yan asked around, stall owners shrugged.
"Uncle Zhang said the county prefers stable pricing."
Lin Yan understood immediately.
Control the water.
Control the price.
Control the narrative.
That evening, Shen Qinghe arrived earlier than usual.
She didn't bring a basket this time.
"I came to help," she said simply.
Lin Yan handed her a hoe without ceremony.
They worked side by side, breaking clods, reinforcing the edges of the field with stones. No idle talk. Just the sound of iron biting earth.
After a while, she spoke.
"My father says inspectors often eat at the inn in the next village."
Lin Yan paused. "Your father hears things."
"He sells meat," she replied. "People talk when they're hungry."
She wiped her brow with her sleeve. "Uncle Zhang told people you were 'lucky,' not skilled."
Lin Yan almost smiled.
Luck was the most dangerous word in a farming society. It implied instability. Something temporary.
"Thank you for telling me," he said.
She shook her head. "I'm not helping you," she said quietly. "I'm helping your field."
It wasn't a declaration.
It was better.
The next morning, Lin Yan carried eggs to the market.
Eggs sold fast—three copper coins each, no haggling. He didn't sell many. Just enough to circulate his name differently.
Not as a lucky boy.
But as someone producing variety.
A merchant muttered, "Lin family's land's improving."
That was enough.
When the county inspectors arrived, Uncle Zhang walked them through the village personally.
They stopped at Lin Yan's field.
One inspector bent down, scooped soil, rubbed it between his fingers.
"Fertilized," he said. "Properly."
Uncle Zhang smiled thinly. "The boy works hard."
The inspector nodded. "Hard work shows."
No accusations. No praise.
Just acknowledgment.
That night, Lin Yan sat outside his house, repairing a broken basket.
Shen Qinghe handed him water.
"You didn't argue," she said.
"There was nothing to argue," Lin Yan replied. "Not yet."
She considered that.
After a moment, she said, "If they make things harder… my father won't refuse to speak."
Lin Yan looked at her.
He didn't thank her.
He just nodded.
In a world built on land, grain, and quiet pressure, trust was heavier than silver.
And much harder to earn.
In the coop, another hen settled into the straw.
Tomorrow, there would be another egg.
And another step forward.