The sun had not yet crested the eastern ridges of the Stone Creek mountains when Lin Yan was awakened by a sound that shouldn't have existed.
Chirp. Chirp-chirp.
It wasn't the weak, pathetic peep of a dying chick. It was a robust, demanding sound. Lin Yan sat up on the k'ang, his muscles aching from the previous day's labor, and checked the System interface.
> [Livestock Monitor: 'Vitality' Chickens]
> Growth Progress: Day 2 (Equivalent to Day 10 of normal breed).
> Health: 100%.
> Status: Hungry.
> Note: System-modified breeds have a high metabolic rate during the 'Booster' phase.
>
Lin Yan slipped out of the house, moving quietly past his sleeping brothers. Outside, the air was sharp enough to sting his lungs, but the backyard was no longer a graveyard of grey dust. The ten-square-meter patch he had treated with the Soil Revitalizer seemed to glow with a faint, healthy vitality even in the pre-dawn gloom.
He opened the small, straw-insulated door of the coop. Ten golden balls of fluff erupted onto the dark soil. To his shock, they were already the size of a man's fist, their wing feathers starting to sprout with a healthy, waxy sheen.
"Slow down, you little gluttons," Lin Yan chuckled. He reached into the System's 'Resource Tab' and withdrew a handful of Starter Forage—a mixture of crushed grains and fortified minerals.
As he scattered the feed, the chicks swarmed his feet. They weren't skittish like the local village birds; they were bold, their eyes intelligent. Lin Yan felt a strange surge of pride. In his past life, he managed digital assets and "human resources." Here, he was managing life.
The Neighbor's Eye
"Yan'er? What in the ancestor's name is that?"
Lin Yan stiffened. He turned to see Lin Er, his second brother, standing by the well with a wooden bucket. Lin Er's jaw was practically on the ground. He dropped the bucket with a loud clatter that surely woke the neighbors.
"Are those... the chicks from yesterday?" Lin Er scrambled over, falling to his knees beside the coop. "They were the size of walnuts yesterday! Now they look like they've been growing for a fortnight!"
"The 'Old Man's' breed is different, Second Brother," Lin Yan said, keeping his voice low but firm. "They grow fast, but they eat more. We need to find more than just grain. We need insects, worms, and the right greens."
Lin Er didn't care about the logistics; he was busy counting. "Ten. Still ten! Not a single one died in the night? In this cold?" He looked at Lin Yan as if he were a wandering immortal. "Brother, if the village finds out..."
"That's exactly what I'm worried about," Lin Yan interrupted.
But it was too late.
The Lin family's "backyard" shared a low, crumbling stone wall with the Zhao family. Zhao Fugui was a man whose name meant 'Wealthy,' but whose heart was as narrow as a needle's eye. He was the village's minor usurer, a man who lent grain at 30% interest and watched his neighbors starve with a smile.
A head popped over the wall. Zhao Fugui, with his wispy goatee and eyes like a rat's, squinted at the dark, rich soil and the bustling golden chicks.
"Lin Er, what's all that racket?" Zhao Fugui's eyes landed on the birds. His pupils dilated. "Those... those are fine birds. Where did a family of beggars like yours get birds like that?"
Lin Yan stepped in front of his brother, shielding the coop from view. "Found some eggs in the wild, Uncle Zhao. Just lucky."
"Lucky? In winter?" Zhao Fugui sneered, his gaze shifting to the soil. "And that dirt... it smells like a mountain spring. You Lins haven't been stealing manure from the village magistrate's stables, have you?"
"We've stolen nothing," Lin Yan said, his voice turning cold. "The land finally decided to be kind to those who work it. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have chores."
Zhao Fugui didn't move. He watched the golden chicks with a predatory hunger. In a world where a chicken was worth three days of a man's labor, ten healthy birds were a fortune.
The Plan for the Market
By mid-morning, the entire Lin family was gathered around the coop. The parents, Lin Shun and Zhao Mei, were terrified.
"Yan'er, Fugui is a snake," Lin Shun whispered, his hands wringing his tattered cap. "He'll go to the Village Head. He'll say we're hiding wealth or practicing forbidden arts."
"Let him talk," Lin Yan said. He was looking at his sisters, Yue and Hua. "Sisters, I need you to weave three sturdy transport baskets. Not for the chickens—not yet—but for what we're going to collect."
"What are we collecting, Brother?" Lin Yue asked, her brow furrowed.
"The 'Black Gold' of the forest," Lin Yan smiled. "The System—I mean, my vision—told me that the pine needles and the rotted leaf mold under the old cedars on the North Slope can be turned into fuel and fertilizer if processed right. We're going to the County Market tomorrow. Not to sell, but to buy."
"Buy with what?" Lin Da asked, gesturing to their empty pockets.
Lin Yan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy pouch. It wasn't gold, but a handful of 'System-Refined Salt'—pure, white, and fine as snow. It was a one-time 'New User' gift he'd found tucked in the corner of his inventory.
In the Great Yan Dynasty, salt was a government-monopoly. Most commoners ate 'Yellow Salt'—bitter, rocky stuff filled with sand. This white powder was worth its weight in silver.
"This is our seed money," Lin Yan said. "We go to the market, buy a used cart, some iron tools, and a breeding pair of goats if we can. We're moving past survival, brothers. We're building a ranch."
The First Trek
The journey to the county seat was twelve miles of winding, frozen mountain paths. Lin Yan, Lin Da, and Lin Er set out at dawn the next day. Lin Yan insisted on going, despite his body still feeling like it was made of glass. He needed to see the world—the real world.
The Great Yan Dynasty was a sprawling, ancient empire. As they walked, Lin Yan saw the reality of the countryside. It wasn't a pastoral paradise; it was a struggle. Most farmers looked like walking ghosts. The cattle he saw were rib-thin, scrawny things that could barely pull a plow.
Just you wait, Lin Yan thought, looking at a particularly pathetic ox. I'll bring the Angus and the Brahman here. I'll show you what a real beast of burden looks like.
When they reached the County Market, the sights and smells hit Lin Yan like a physical wall. The shouts of vendors, the smell of fried dough, and the rhythmic clirr-clirr of official carriages.
They headed straight for the 'Three Harmonies' Salt and Grain Shop.
The shopkeeper, a fat man in silk robes named Manager Qian, looked at the three dusty youths with disdain. "Out, out! No begging today!"
Lin Yan didn't flinch. He walked to the counter and placed a small piece of cloth on the wood. He opened it, revealing the snowy white crystals.
The shopkeeper's sneer froze. He licked a finger, touched the salt, and tasted it. His eyes nearly tripled in size.
"This... this is Snow-Flake Salt? This is Tribute Grade!" Qian whispered, his voice trembling. "Where did you get this?"
"My family has an old recipe," Lin Yan said, his face a mask of calm confidence. "I have more, but I only need enough for some supplies today. Are you buying, or should I go to the 'Jade Pavilion' across the street?"
"No! No, wait!" Qian scrambled. "Five... no, eight silver taels for the lot!"
Lin Da and Lin Er nearly fainted. Eight silver taels? That was enough to buy a small house in the village!
The Return and the Confrontation
They left the market with more than they came with: a sturdy, second-hand wooden cart, two bags of high-quality seed grain, a set of iron hoes, a heavy wool shawl for their mother, and—most importantly—a scrawny, discarded mountain goat that Lin Yan insisted on buying for a few copper coins.
"Why this one, Yan'er?" Lin Er asked, looking at the limping goat. "It's half-dead."
"It's not dead," Lin Yan said, checking the System.
> [Target Identified: Mountain Goat (Female).]
> Condition: Malnourished, Parasites.
> Potential: Grade C (Excellent for cross-breeding with 'Boer' Bloodline).
>
"It just needs a little 'Ranch' magic," Lin Yan whispered.
As they neared Stone Creek Village, the sun was setting. They were laughing, the weight of a year of hunger finally lifting. But as they turned the corner toward their hut, the laughter died.
A crowd was gathered in their front yard. Zhao Fugui stood at the front, flanked by two burly men holding clubs. Beside them was the Village Head, a stern-looking man in a clean robe.
"There they are!" Zhao Fugui pointed a trembling finger at the new cart and the supplies. "Look at that! Yesterday they were eating dirt, and today they bring back a cart of wealth! Village Head, I told you! They must have stumbled upon a hidden tomb of an ancient general and stolen the burial goods! That, or they've made a pact with a demon to make their chickens grow like monsters!"
Lin Yan stepped off the cart, his hand gripping the new iron hoe. He felt the cold anger of a modern man who had worked himself to death once—he wasn't about to let a local bully take his second chance.
"The only demons here, Uncle Zhao," Lin Yan said, his voice echoing in the evening air, "are the ones who can't stand to see an honest family finally have a full belly."
He turned to the Village Head. "You want to know where the wealth came from? It didn't come from a tomb. It came from the dirt you all called 'barren.' And if you'll let me speak, I'll show you how this 'demon' dirt can feed the whole village."
The Village Head narrowed his eyes. "Talk then, Lin Yan. But if you're lying, the law of the Great Yan is not kind to thieves."
Lin Yan smiled. This was the moment. The "Cowboy" wasn't just about cows—it was about leading people.