Shen Yue returned the next morning.
Not with ceremony, not with curiosity—but with a bundle of dried herbs tied neatly in cloth. She stopped at the edge of the pasture and waited instead of calling out.
Lin Yan noticed immediately.
People who waited usually understood boundaries.
"You're early," he said, walking over.
"Animals don't choose convenient hours to fall sick," Shen Yue replied. Her tone was calm, professional. "I heard you separated the piglets yesterday."
"I did," Lin Yan said. "One's been restless."
She nodded. "Then I should look."
They worked without talking much. Shen Yue checked the piglet's eyes, its gums, its breathing. She crushed a few leaves, let the animal sniff them, then mixed a small portion into warm water.
"Digestive heat," she said. "Too much growth feed too fast."
Lin Yan watched closely. "You treat causes, not symptoms."
She glanced at him. "So do you."
That was enough to establish respect.
By midmorning, the village stirred—and with it, opportunity.
A merchant arrived on horseback, robes bright, smile practiced. He dismounted quickly, eyes already scanning the pasture, the fences, the animals.
"I am Qian Luo," he said smoothly. "I trade in entertainment logistics."
Old Chen snorted from nearby. "That's a new name for gambling."
Qian Luo laughed lightly. "Call it what you like. I call it silver."
He spread his hands. "Yesterday's demonstration drew attention. If we expand it—weekly races, bull strength contests—we can draw crowds from three villages."
"No," Lin Yan said simply.
Qian Luo blinked. "You didn't hear the numbers."
"I heard the word crowds," Lin Yan replied.
"Crowds bring money," Qian Luo insisted. "Food stalls. Entry fees. Even officials take interest when taxes grow."
Lin Yan's gaze hardened slightly. "Animals break when used for noise."
Qian Luo leaned closer. "Everything breaks eventually. Better to profit first."
Shen Yue straightened slowly. "That thinking fills my clinic."
The merchant smiled thinly. "Broken animals can be replaced."
Lin Yan stepped forward.
"Land remembers abuse," he said. "So do people."
Silence fell.
Qian Luo exhaled and straightened his robes. "Then consider a compromise. One larger event. Monthly."
Lin Yan shook his head. "When people rush here for profit, rules weaken. When rules weaken, blood appears."
"You're afraid," Qian Luo said lightly.
Lin Yan met his eyes. "I'm responsible."
Qian Luo studied him for a long moment, then laughed again—this time without warmth.
"Very well," he said. "Others won't be so patient."
He mounted and rode away, dust trailing behind him like a warning.
Old Chen muttered, "That one will return."
"Yes," Lin Yan replied. "With pressure."
That afternoon, Shen Yue stayed.
She helped Lin Yan's mother reorganize stored herbs and taught the children how to wash wounds properly. She spoke little but observed everything.
"You don't waste," she said quietly while watching pork fat being carefully measured.
"Waste teaches carelessness," Lin Yan replied.
As evening fell, the piglet ate again—calmer now.
Shen Yue washed her hands and paused. "If you expand livestock, you'll need disease prevention plans."
"I was thinking the same," Lin Yan said.
Their eyes met briefly—an understanding, not a promise.
Dinner was quiet.
No pork tonight.
No complaints.
After the meal, the system interface appeared, heavier, more insistent.
[Commercial Pressure Detected]
[Relationship: Cooperative Trust Forming]
[Next Choice Node: Scale or Consolidate]
Lin Yan closed it slowly.
Scale brought silver.
Consolidation brought stability.
Outside, the pasture rested. Hooves had not touched it since morning. Grass stood upright, resilient.
Shen Yue prepared to leave. At the gate, she paused.
"People like Qian Luo won't stop," she said.
"I know," Lin Yan replied.
She hesitated, then added, "If you ever need medical help—animal or human—I live near the river."
Lin Yan inclined his head. "I'll remember."
After she left, Old Chen joined him by the fence.
"You refused easy money," the old man said.
"Yes," Lin Yan replied.
Old Chen smiled. "Good. Easy money brings hard consequences."
Lin Yan adjusted his leather hat and looked down the road where dust still lingered faintly.
Profit had knocked.
He had not opened the door.
But the knocking would grow louder